“Thank you, I accept,” Dreelig replied. He settled into a chair, lifted his hand to attract the bartender, and leaned back with a sigh. When the tender brought his order, something with ice in a tall glass, he took a long pull. “Ah. I know it is largely a matter of mental attitude, but that tastes better than usual.” He looked over the top of the glass at Peters. “If your invitation was sincere, you should pay the man one half ornh.”
“Ornh, eh?” Peters said. “We knew it was money, but we didn’t know the name.” He dug out a square silvery coin and handed it over.
“Yes, ornh is money,” Dreelig told them. “You should have received half a square of ornh each. That is the living allowance for an ordinary member of the crew. Have you paid for your meals?”
“Yep, got that done before the officers got here,” Todd confirmed.
“Good. I am sorry I was not there to help you, but I am afraid I was busy.” Dreelig took another, smaller sip of his drink. “I think that will be a permanent condition in the near future. Your officers are very demanding.”
“We figured it out,” Todd told him. “It wasn’t really all that hard.”
“Yes.” Dreelig pushed his glass around, smearing the condensed moisture into a rough circle. “You have gotten a great deal of work done with a minimum of supervision, and adjusted to new conditions without much fuss.” He looked up at them from under his brows and sighed. “I suppose I expected the same from them. Now I do not believe that it will work out that way.”
“Prob’ly not,” said Peters dryly. “They’re too used to folks jumpin’ when they holler frog to be easy when things ain’t exactly what they expect.”
“That is a colorful way of saying it, but I believe you are correct.” He sipped again. “Commander Bolton has decreed that the officers need not learn the language, so I must now tell Znereda that the service people—the stewards—must all be taught English. I do not anticipate the interview with pleasure, but I do not see a way to avoid it, if the ladies and gentlemen are to be served as they require.” He came down just a little harder on ‘ladies and gentlemen’ than necessary.
“Maybe we can be practice targets for the stewards as they learn,” Todd offered. “That’d take some of the load off old Znereda.”
Dreelig smiled. “That is what I intended to ask of you. Thank you for volunteering.” He finished his drink and rattled the ice. “Of course, your other duties will remain.”
“No problem,” said Peters. “If we’re ‘ordinary members of the crew,’ we ought to lend a hand.”
Dreelig nodded. “I wish to rest before the departure of your officers and machines. I recommend that you do the same. The second group will be arriving an ande later, and there will be few opportunities for rest.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Peters. He drained the last of his glass and stood up. Todd followed, tossing an ornh-piece on the table.
“I almost forgot my reason for searching for you,” Dreelig confessed as he stood. “The Commander also says that kathir suits are not proper uniforms, even with correct markings. When required, the suit is to be worn underneath your ordinary clothing.”
Peters sighed. “Well, Hell, we can pull dungarees on over it. But I was lookin’ forward to not havin’ to do laundry no more.” He plucked at the material of the kathir suit.
“Laundry,” said Todd in a tone of loathing.
“Look on the bright side,” Peters advised. “No skivvies to wash, anyways.”
“Hunh. You’re right, of course, but I’m not looking forward to trying to keep uniforms looking good for two years,” said Todd crossly. “Especially dungarees. And do we wear boondockers, or not?”
“Not,” Peters decided after a moment. “Dreelig, you can tell ‘em they mark up the deck or something.”
“I can do that.” Dreelig smiled. “We will meet another time, ke?”
“Yeah,” Peters agreed. “See you later.”
Showered, shaved, and spiffed, they were down in the bay in plenty of time. They set up their little group near the aft end of the midships hangar bay door and waited.
Dee led the officers out the forward door of their quarters, where they formed a double file and marched toward the planes. A pair split off to stand by each Hornet. “Oh, shit, we shoulda had a working party to take the ladders down,” Peters groaned, but that had been thought of. Pilots boarded, and the other officer in each pair took the ladder down and stowed it. They then doubled across to the Tomcats, where they did the same. Canopies sighed down and clamped, and one by one, the Tomcats backed up a few feet, then turned forward down the centerline of the bay.
That brought the first one abreast of Donollo, who was standing, smiling benignly, a little in front of the group. Commander Bolton presented a salute, the best possible in flight suit, helmet, and gloves; Donollo responded by raising his left arm, nodding, and lowering the arm like a waiter showing someone to a table. Bolton brought his hand back down, and the Tomcat shot off down the bay, catching the sunlight, turning into a spark, then gone.
The others repeated the ritual in turn, Donollo putting in a magnificent performance as a catapult officer, the pilots following along because it closely resembled what they were used to. When the last Hornet was away, Donollo said something in a soft voice, making Dreelig laugh.
“Thank God they’re gone,” said Dee, and both sailors looked at her. “We don’t believe in that way,” she said, smiling, “but the phrase seemed appropriate.”
“Real appropriate,” Peters assured her.
“Very well done, everyone,” said Dreelig. He was also smiling. “And now, rest if you can. The second group will arrive sometime after the middle of the next ande.”
Five utle later they were again standing in the ops bay, watching sparks assemble aft.
These weren’t nearly so spiffy. All of them hit the bay opening without breaking anything, but the sailors winced several times. Todd, who had watched a lot of flight ops, thought they might have been better off to pick up the tempo a bit. A slow approach gave lots of time for minor corrections, and the paths were crooked as a snake’s track because most of the corrections were from nerves. It took over an utle to complete the evolutions with the ladders, and one pilot almost fell when the ladder, not properly secured, slumped to rest against the aerodynamic strake below the cockpit.
Forming up and marching was within their capabilities. Donollo said something, Dreelig repeated what he’d said before, and the sailors stood at attention and saluted at the right places. They were wearing undress blues over the kathir suits, and nobody paid them much attention.
“I’m Lieutenant Commander Carlyle,” the leader told Dreelig. “As you can see, we need a lot more practice to be good enough.”
“Senior Donollo thought you did very well,” said Dreelig generously, after translating that for Donollo and getting a reply. “I introduce Dee. She will show you to your quarters.” Dee gave him a black look and stepped to the front, and the company marched off across the bay, keeping rather better intervals than the first-line crews had.
They had filled out the welcoming party with half of the stewards, the ones who had helped out with unloading personal gear before. “All right, you know what to do,” Peters told them, then in Grallt, “Work you know. Do.” Peer grinned and nodded, gabbled at the rest of the group, and headed for the first Hornet. Peters and Todd sighed and looked at one another.