Todd snorted. “Fat chance,” he opined. “I suppose the officers’ll get to go.”
“You know, I don’t think so,” Peters said. “Just a feelin’.”
That got a grin, shrug, and grimace from Todd. “You say it.”
This was first ande for the Grallt, second for the humans. The schedule was for an ande of off-time, then a second mock-combat session; the second session came off on schedule and without a hitch, with the same conclusion as the first. Ghnal Dhango stayed by the Number One console during the entire evolution, conspicuously ignoring Howell to the extent possible and paying little visible attention to anything except the business at hand. At the end she was escorted away by Chief Spearman, to join Khrog Dhakgo and disappear into the officers’ quarters hatch.
Very shortly after that the enkheil boarded their ships for the last time, the Combat Dancers doing another skit as the support crews climbed into their transports, fatter versions of the combat ships with windows—or rather, round portholes—down the side. Neither Ghnal Dhango nor Khrog Dhakgo tried to speak to Peters, or even acknowledge him beyond Ghnal’s parting nod as she joined her mate aboad the lead transport. Peters was relieved, but had to admit a little disappointment.
And, well, a little resentment, too, he was forced to admit, at least to himself. He thought about that as he helped boom Tomcats down; scuttlebutt had it that they’d be leaving soon, and Chief Warnocki didn’t know if that was right or not but didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Maybe even a lot of resentment. He thought about it some more as he showered and dressed for chow. Oh, well, the Navy was the Navy; you could do a lot of things, but bucking the system wasn’t one of them.
About the time he’d reached that conclusion Cleeves was banging on his door with a summons to attend the Master Chief. The runner had arrived with news from the bridge: High Phase would begin at the next ande, only a few minutes away. Their next destination was called Zenth, whatever and wherever that was. He thanked the runner, who took herself off, and shared a shrug with the Master Chief. There was nothing strange here but the funny-looking people. When you’re in the Navy, you go where the boat goes.
When he got back to his room there was a surprise waiting; a package wrapped in brown cloth and tied with soft string. Todd professed ignorance. “One of the Grallt, the regular ones, not the zerkre, brought it by and said it was for you.”
“So what is it?”
Todd shrugged. “Damifino. Open it up, then we’ll both know.”
The contents of the package was a statuette about thirty centimeters high, depicting a male-female pair of Combat Dancers in the pose they’d used at the end of their routine when they first came aboard: male crouching, female erect, both with wings spread. The material was some kind of wood, dark brown with a green tinge, and the artist had used the grain of the wood to emphasize the lines of the dancers’ wings. “Damn, that’s pretty,” Todd observed. “What’s the note say?”
Peters hadn’t noticed the note, a slip of folded paper, creamy white with some kind of design or logo embossed on the front. Keep us in mind, it said in Grallt, and there was a squiggle below that, probably somebody’s signature. He read it to Todd. “As if I could forget any of this shit,” he said softly.
“Look at it this way,” Todd suggested. “You’ve made at least one friend.”
Peters snorted. “Yeah, and a whole bunch of enemies, I reckon, and the enemies are a lot closer. Whoa, here we go.”
Llapaaloapalla had been maneuvering as they spoke, stars flitting across the window in jumps and skips; there came the odd decelerating sensation of entry to High Phase, with the same special effects they’d seen before. Peters looked at the statuette in his hand for a long moment, then carefully set it in one of his locker cabinets, slipping the note under the base.
“You ought to keep it out to look at,” Todd objected. “It’s pretty.”
“Nah,” Peters said, and latched the cabinet. “It’d just collect dust. I’ll take it out from time to time, but there ain’t no need to be too obvious about it.”
Todd shrugged. “It’s your statue.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kennard and Tollison started the exercise sessions back up as soon as possible. Peters joined in as something to do more than anything else; most of the others seemed to feel the same way. The Grallt, not given to mincing words, called it “dance class”. Peters forebore to explain that to anybody. Tollison would have laughed; he didn’t know Kennard much.
Their diet started changing. The first new item to appear was a cloudy pink beverage; Zeep brought them each a glass without being asked and bustled off. Todd tasted it cautiously. “Milk,” he diagnosed. “Kind of a funny flavor, but not bad.” Peters tasted and agreed.
After that they got on average one new item per meal. Zeep would bring something, tell them the name, and bustle off while they tried it. Some of it they liked, some they didn’t; none of it made them sick, although almost all the humans had weak allergic reactions to one or more items.
That was remarkable when you thought about it. Peters asked, and Zeep explained: “Oh, it all has to be tested, that’s why you don’t get it all at once.” He shrugged. “If it was only us we wouldn’t need to test, we know the enkheil well. But you humans are new.” Peters and Todd shared raised eyebrows. Apparently there was a little more to food service on Llapaaloapalla than met the eye.
Peters and Tollison, along with a few others, got called away from the exercise sessions regularly, because Chief Warnocki wanted to get started on the forward bay door. They got out the bucket lift and turned to; the mechanism wasn’t in quite as bad shape as the aft one had been, probably because the Grallt’s operations pattern used it less, but several gear teeth were cracked, and the thing needed oil like a last-century automobile did. Dhuvenig’s admonition not to open the doors during high phase left them with no way to test it until Cleeves suggested that they disconnect the drive chain from the door itself. “We know the door moves,” he observed.
“Yeah, and the carrier bearings on that are next on the list for grease,” Warnocki growled. “But yeah, you’re right. We’ll do it that way.” It took an extra watch, but at the end they were confident that the doors would work when needed.
The enkheil had used lasers, or something like lasers, in the mock combat, and the Navy blue paint on the planes had absorbed the energy just fine, thank you. They had blotches where the paint had been burned off, and those had to be cleaned, filled, and repainted. Peters wasn’t involved in that, but Todd was, and when he remarked about it, Peters explained what the enkheil had told him: “They reckon it must be the same thing, but they ain’t got a clue what it really is, because they buy ‘em off the shelf and they’re all sealed up, so you can’t tell how they work.”
“Sounds like an opportunity for us,” Todd observed. “Maybe we could sell them cheaper or something.”
Peters snorted. “Hnh. Just don’t let the Master Chief hear you talkin’ like that. That’s officer business, accordin’ to him, and enlisted better keep their nose out.”
Todd grinned. “What I think is, Master Chief Joshua wants your ass.”
“We don’t get on too well, and that’s a fact.”
During the workups for the voyage Peters and Todd hadn’t seen a great deal of one another, each being pulled into the orbit of his particular specialty despite the strong association formed by their being tossed together and into a strange situation. Now that they were roommates they had begun to take up where they’d left off, taking chow together, talking over the day, and grousing about conditions.