The cook had taken Peters’s advice and was only providing one meal to humans, including Peters and Todd since the waiter couldn’t tell the difference. That reduced by one the number of things they had to make decisions about. Peters was eating fourth meal, all Grallt items except for mashed potatoes, when Dee came up and informed him that Chief Joshua would see them at 2100 hours; she didn’t stay to chat, and Peters had to retrieve the handheld to translate that into “only twenty minutes for fifth meal.”
When fifth ande rolled around, Veedal needed another two and eight tle to finish the man he was measuring. That done, they barely had time to change in time for their appointment. “Hell with it,” said Peters. “We’ll eat in the bar. Assumin’ we want to eat, afterwards.”
Todd shrugged. “Dreelig’s pretty bright, and I trust him. But you’re right, we’ll eat in the bar. What’s money, after all?”
There was no sentry by either entrance to the enlisted quarters, but a Second Class Machinist’s Mate sat behind a desk with a logbook and wanted them to sign in; a much more reasonable and Navy-like arrangement, Peters thought. This llor was payday; the envelope was there on the desk, with eight four-ornh notes. Great. Settling up tomorrow, with everything else.
He was about to slip the jumper of his undress blues over his head when it occurred to him that the kathir suit, underneath, didn’t have a white T-shirt collar to show. He swore, squirmed out of trousers and kathir suit, and put on skivvies and a T-shirt, then rearranged the blues. They felt strange, loose and airy, and scratched his legs. The things you get used to.
Todd had “solved” that problem by pulling a t-shirt over the kathir suit. Peters was dubious—the suit showed over the neck of the t-shirt—but they were out of time. Dreelig was waiting in the corridor; they marched down to the Chief’s quarters, and Peters did the honors of banging on the door, pausing to make the first stroke at 21:00:00 by the handheld.
“Come!” was the response.
They did what was meant, which was open the door and enter. Master Chief Joshua was sitting in one of the desk chairs; he’d found time to present a more normal appearance, pressed, polished, and glittering. Dreelig stood by the window; the other chair was occupied by Chief Spearman, not so well turned out, sitting with arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. Dreelig opened the balclass="underline" “Pleasant greetings, Master Chief Joshua. Thank you for seeing us.”
Joshua nodded by way of acknowledgement. “Pleasant greetings to you, Ambassador Dreelig. I understand you wanted this meeting to clarify the status of these two sailors here.”
“That is correct, Chief.”
“The situation could use some clarification,” the other chief remarked. “These two men are not part of our detachment, and by rights shouldn’t be here.” He wasn’t one of the ones who had been dealing with the Grallt regularly; you could tell by the way his eyes shifted around the room to avoid looking Dreelig in the face.
“Peters and Todd were assigned to Llapaaloapalla, and my captain has delegated me to supervise their work,” said Dreelig smoothly. “I do not believe that we have met, Chief.”
“I’m sorry,” said Joshua in a tone that made it clear the apology was perfunctory. “Ambassador Dreelig, this is Yeoman Chief Spearman. He has a legal specialty, and is here to advise me if necessary.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Chief Spearman,” said Dreelig calmly.
“And I you, Mr. Ambassador,” said Spearman, arms still folded, eyes slitted. “What is your position aboard this ship?”
“We do not use the same structure you do, but in your terms my rank would be approximately Lieutenant Commander,” said Dreelig without any particular emphasis. “I am head of the division you would probably call ‘Alien Relations.’”
“And as regards these men, sir?” Spearman persisted. “The situation is extremely unclear, and I for one could use some guidance. Commander Bolton won’t be here until next week. Can you provide us a way to communicate with our superiors?”
“No. We have no way to communicate except by physical travel.” The two chiefs looked at one another, dismay showing, and Peters did his best to keep his face immobile. I tole you t’ bring radios, dammit! “At any rate, we are all responsible, intelligent beings,” Dreelig continued. “I don’t believe the situation is so complex that we cannot solve it ourselves.”
Joshua closed his eyes for a moment, looking pained, then looked directly at the Grallt for the first time. “What is your understanding of the situation, sir?”
“When the contract that permits your presence was being finalized, we concluded that we required the assistance of persons who were knowledgeable about the quarters and other conditions you would require. We requested that assistance, and your command authority was pleased to grant it, in the persons of Peters and Todd.” Dreelig indicated the two sailors with a gesture. “They were assigned to my division. Again in the terms you would use, I am their division officer.” Peters could hear the smile in Dreelig’s voice, and wondered what the chiefs made of his facial expression. “In fact, since you are also assigned to the Alien Relations division, I am your division officer also.”
“I understand, sir.” Spearman shifted his gaze to Peters. “Have these men performed their duties to your satisfaction?”
“Peters and Todd have been performing their duties to my complete satisfaction,” Dreelig said. “Those duties will not be completed before this vessel departs on its voyage, at which time I will assign them to Detachment One, as a transfer within my department. In the meantime, they are subject to your orders, as any sailor of similar rank would be, subject only to my override.”
“Aye, sir,” said Joshua. “As a matter of interest, sir, do you have the power of reassignment over all the men in the detachment?”
“An excellent point, Chief. I do not, by specific provision of the contract,” Dreelig replied. “However, as you have pointed out, Peters and Todd are not part of Space Detachment One until and unless I assign them so.”
“Aye, sir,” said Joshua again. Spearman’s eyes were wide; he made a sound approximating “Ah!” When Dreelig sought eye contact he looked down at his shoes.
“Did you have a question, Chief Spearman?” Dreelig asked mildly.
“Only for clarification, sir. May I have permission to recapitulate the situation as I understand it, sir?”
“Certainly, Chief.”
“Aye, sir. We have here two groups of people, both assigned to your division. In the first are the members of Space Detachment One, who are here to fulfill the terms of the, ah, contract as you call it, between the U.S. Navy and yourselves. In the second, smaller group, are Petty Officers Peters and Todd, who are here to fulfill a separate request made by yourselves to the Navy.”
“That is correct, Chief Spearman. An admirable summation.”
“Thank you, sir. In that case, our ordinary customs and regulations are sufficient to cover the situation. The previous misunderstanding—” his hand twitched slightly “—was due to our failure to understand this.” He glanced briefly at Chief Joshua.
“Very good. I trust those procedures will be followed in good faith, Chief.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Very good,” Dreelig said again. “There is one more thing, Master Chief Joshua.”