“These will remain only long enough to be measured for kathir suits,” Dreelig commented. “They must return for their free day, if I understand correctly.”
“It’s a free day for everybody. Thanksgiving.” Peters looked sour. “Good and bad. We gotta work harder, but it’ll be over with sooner.”
“Yes, that is all true,” said Dreelig. “I must go.”
“Aye, aye,” said Peters loudly. Dreelig looked startled, then amused, and went to collect the first group to be measured. The two sailors bore a hand with the unloading, fetching, and carrying.
The alternates were less standoffish than the primaries had been, to the extent that they were willing to accept the two enlisted men as guides and for familiarization with the facilities. All of their guides and advisors, including the stewards, were grateful for that. It meant they could take turns for naps of a few utle without leaving the officers to their own devices, and the officers themselves went down during fourth ande to be fresh for the trip. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.
Only about two-thirds of the pilots saluted Donollo as they departed, but “the Senior” raised his arm and beamed at each and every one of them, exactly as he had done for the first group. When they were finally away Peters and Todd were at least as beat as they had ever been, and Dee and Dreelig were wilting too. “Thank God they”re gone,” Todd said to Dee, and she just smiled tiredly and flapped a hand at him.
Chapter Ten
“There is more that you need to know about the operation of the ship, so that you can instruct your associates when they arrive,” Dreelig told them over the second meal. They’d skipped the first, sleeping in; after all, it was Thanksgiving. “And we need to consult with Znereda about how you can best assist him with language instruction for the stewards.” He looked at his watch and frowned. “Znereda will not be available until the fourth ande. We should proceed with instruction. It should not take long.”
“Lead on,” said Peters.
Dreelig led them to the ops bay, then aft. The sailors got a bit apprehensive as they approached the open door, but the deck continued flat to the threshold, with no structure similar to the “round-down” of the aircraft carrier. Hefty pegs on top and bottom of the door held bearings that ran in slots that crossed the door opening, curving to continue parallel to the midships structure. Four low consoles stood next to the guide slot, spaced ten meters apart, in a row parallel to the ship’s centerline. “These are the retarder controls,” Dreelig explained.
“Retarder controls?” Peters said with a frown as he and Todd bent to examine one. Like the control panel of the dli, it was sparsely populated: a pair of large knobs, two backward-reading meters, and little else.
“The retarders are used to slow incoming ships,” Dreelig told them. “I don’t fully understand it myself. The controls must be set for the mass and speed of the incoming vessel.”
“Arrestin’ gear,” said Peters with a nod and a grin. “I been runnin’ arrestin’ gear damn near eight years now. I reckon I can learn a new type.”
“You may know more about it than I do,” Dreelig confessed.
“Probably,” said Todd in a matter-of-fact tone. “Why doesn’t one of the regular crew come and explain it while you translate? It’s not convenient for you to be running back and forth every time we have a question you can’t answer.”
Dreelig looked alarmed. “What do you mean, the regular crew?” he demanded. “We are all crew, yourselves included.”
“Look, Dreelig, no offense and all that, but you couldn’t run this ship with a gun at your head,” Todd told him calmly. “Just about anything we want to know, you’ve never troubled yourself to ask about. There have to be tech types who run the ship while you traders go along for the ride.” He shrugged. “You called them ‘the ship people’ a while ago. We saw some down tending the engines. They wear blue and white on their suits.”
“You have seen the engines?” Dreelig was thunderstruck. “I have lived on Llapaaloapalla for four eights of uzul, and I have never seen the engines. I do not know how to reach them anyway.”
“Yeah,” said Peters. “You stick to your own knittin’ while the others get on with gettin’ their jobs done. That’s a good way to work, but it’s got limits.” He glanced sidelong at Todd. “In this here case, we’re gonna need to know quite a bit about these controls. Todd’s right, we better have a tech type around to answer questions.”
“You make a good point.” Dreelig stood, frowning, right arm across his breast, chin supported by the knuckles of his left hand. “But this arrangement has not been made. It will be a little difficult.”
“Can’t see why,” Todd pointed out.
“Yes, there is no reason you should know or understand,” said the Grallt calmly. “Perhaps you should go back to your quarters. I will meet you there after I speak with the others.”
“You got it,” said Peters. “This is likely to take a while, I gather.”
“Yes. Several utle, at least.”
“Then we’ll probably fool around for a while,” Peters told him. “If you don’t find us in our quarters, just come on down, we’ll probably be here.”
“Yes, that is a satisfactory arrangement.” Dreelig nodded and hurried off,looking concerned.
When he was out of sight, Peters turned to Todd. “That was a Hell of a surprise to pull on your old buddy Peters.”
“Sorry.” Todd spread his hands. “I just now thought of it, actually. All the people in the engine room were dressed alike, and there have to be tech types around somewhere, but I just now made the final connection.” He looked at Peters. “Makes sense, though.”
“Damn right it makes sense. I’d've liked a little more warnin’, is all.”
“Yeah, like I said, it just now came to me.”
Peters looked at the controls for a moment, then turned away. “Ain’t no point in hangin’ around here. We don’t know what the adjustments are, and we ain’t gonna find out until somebody tells us.”
Todd sighed. “So we wait.”
Third meal came and went without Dreelig showing up, and they idled around their quarters until time for the next one rolled around. Fourth meal was a surprise: no choices today, everybody got turkey and dressing and all the usual trimmings. Highly appropriate down below, but the Grallt seemed a bit dubious. Todd saw one lift a sporkfull of cranberry sauce and look at it suspiciously; he pointed it out to Peters, and the two shared a chuckle.
After the meal they ambled back to quarters. The bay doors were open, fore and aft both, and the bow was pointed at the sun, making it hard to look in that direction and throwing long shadows from the rubble and clutter. That made it easy to find, and left them more dismayed than before at the sheer quantity of it.
It was about two utle, and seemed like a lot longer, before there was a knock on Peters’s door. He had been lounging on his bunk, bored and half asleep, and took his time answering.
“This is Engineer Keezer,” said Dreelig without preliminary, indicating his companion with a gesture. The new Grallt was female, a little shorter than Dreelig and about the same age; she wore a two-color suit like the ones in the engine room, blue and white in four parts. “Keezer will explain the retarder controls and answer your questions. She is not very patient, so we should, ah, I believe your phrase is ‘get on with it.’”
“Sure,” said Peters. “Lemme get Todd.” “Pleasant greetings, Keezer,” he said to the engineer in Grallt, and the other looked surprised. She was babbling at Dreelig, tone questioning, as Peters banged on Todd”s door. “Look alive in there,” he called.