That part was a joy and a pleasure, as usual with the first-line crews. Each of the graceful darts hit near as dammit dead center, and their velocities were so closely matched that Retard Three had no business at all. One, two, three, through nine and ten, then seven Tomcats, one every thirty seconds, easy as pie, regular as clockwork. It looked like they did it every day, which they didn’t, quite.
The nekrit headed for the guest quarters hatch in their usual sloppy gang. This was the first group they’d encountered who didn’t seem to feel that a little ceremony was appropriate.
“Well, that’s it, I guess,” said Howell, as the human pilots exchanged glances and began moving off toward their quarters in their own loose group.
“Yeah,” said Peters. “Wonder how it went?”
Rupert sneered. “You have to ask?”
Peters slung his helmet on an empty chair and began shuffling out of his flak jacket. “How’d it go?” he asked.
“You have to ask?” Todd was disposing of his own deck gear the same way. The planes were out for the second round; they were taking it by turns to eat before getting back and preparing for recovery.
“Hell, yeah, I have to ask. Did our guys just win, or smash the bastards?”
“Well, Commander Collins was grinning something fierce,” Todd noted. “Based on what’s gone on before, I’d say that means we beat their butts as usual.”
Peters nodded. “Wonder why most of these folks ain’t got much idea how to go about it.”
Todd shook his head. “Well, from what I can see, for most of them it’s a kind of game, they don’t take it as seriously as our guys do.”
“Yeah.” Peters thought a moment. “I reckon there’s another thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, if zifthkakik are expensive it means they probably ain’t got very many of ‘em. I’m just speculatin’ here, but maybe there ain’t enough spaceships around to get into wars with.”
Todd nodded. “That could be. Whereas our guys have been fighting people with airplanes for a century and a half. Lots of practice.”
“Yeah. Say, did you hear what Jacks came up with?” When the response was a negative headshake, Peters described what they’d learned about nekrit reproductive systems.
“Shit.” Todd made a sour grimace and shook his head. “You know, before we got out here I’d never thought about it. There’s men, and there’s women, and that’s the way it works, right?”
Peters grinned back. “Well, we done found out it ain’t necessarily so.”
“Yeah… It doesn’t seem like the basis for any kind of society we’d like. Nasty.”
“You got that right.”
“You say Se’en came up with this? Has anybody passed the word?”
Peters frowned. “I dunno. I reckon Dreelig oughta know about it.”
“Dreelig.” Todd’s tone was dismissive.
“Yeah, he ain’t been distinguishing himself lately. What’s your point? The nekrit are here today, they’ll be gone tomorrow. It don’t make no difference where little nekrit come from, ‘cept for us to snigger about.”
Todd picked at his food. “It occurrs to me that a society based on a system like that wouldn’t include much in the way of ideas like fairness,” he pointed out. “The nekrit lost the ship contest. Who’s to say they wouldn’t like to get a little of their own back some other way?”
“So? The only ones they’d be likely to go after would be the officers, and they’re pretty well isolated.”
“Not all of them. Remember the crew that couldn’t get their shitbox started?”
“Yeah. They didn’t even try it the second time.”
“Right. They’ve been lounging around the ready room waiting for the rest of it to be over with, and not all of our guys are out.”
“Alternate crews?”
“And some of the primaries.” Todd grinned. “If you want a clue as to how it went, there’s one for you. Half the flight crews this time are alternates.”
“And you think we oughta warn somebody about the possibility of dirty work.”
“Yes, I do.”
Peters sighed. “I ain’t real anxious to get noticed again, but I’m afraid you’re right.”
The watchstander in the duty office on the main deck wasn’t the brightest bulb in the string. “What’s up?” he wanted to know.
“You seen the two nekrit that didn’t go out?” Peters asked him.
“You mean the aliens? Yeah, they hung around here for a while, then they went upstairs.”
“Anybody else up there?”
“Medics, a couple of the pilots. What’s it to you?”
Peters didn’t feel like taking the time to fill in the blanks. “Need to visit the infirmary.”
The sailor shrugged. “Sign the book.” Peters complied, and the watchstander added, “Don’t dawdle, and don’t go past the third door. You ain’t supposed to be fooling around up there.”
“I know the drill,” Peters said shortly. “Come on, Todd.” They took the steps two at a time.
Silence, except for a low murmur of voices from the wardroom. “I ain’t real happy with this,” Peters observed, keeping his voice low.
“Nor me,” Todd conceded. “We could tell the medics and let them pass the word.”
Peters considered. “Probably the best thing… what’s that?
“That” was a bump or thud behind a door. “What’s in here?” asked Peters worriedly when it came again, this time accompanied by a low wordless cry.
“How do I know?” demanded Todd. “They don’t exactly set up tours.”
“We better check it out.”
“Yeah.” The two sailors looked at one another for a moment. Finally Todd grabbed the door handle; Peters stood in a half crouch, ready to move or block as necessary. He nodded. Todd yanked.
“Whathefuckisthis!” Two nekrit, one big and one little, had somebody down on the floor, and there was a pair of khaki pants slung alongside one of the cabinets. Neither sailor had seen a nekrit wearing khakis.
Peters pushed off against the bulkhead just as one of the nekrit, the little one, stood up. Well, Hell, at least I get to do the easy one, he thought, then found out he was wrong; the fairy nekrit was wiry, strong, and agile.
The big one moved to help the little one, and the person on the floor was Lt(j.g.) Briggs. Todd leaped into the scuffle and got lucky, and a little help from the victim; Briggs tripped the big one, who fell just where a size-nine boondocker could connect properly, right behind the ear. Best of all, the alien had some kind of gadget in a little flap holster. Todd didn’t know what it did, but he yanked it out, shoved it against the little one’s head, and mashed the button.
Nothing happened except that the alien went white, started gabbling, and quit squirming around. The other one cooled off too, and Peters, who had almost been down for the count, started squirming out of his flak jacket. “Loan me your knife.” It wasn’t a request.
Todd pulled out his flick-knife, flipped it open, and handed it over, and Peters began ripping the tough fabric. Todd moved to help, and the two made sure the nekrit were securely tied before turning to the object of all the ruckus.
“Jeez, Ms. Briggs, you OK?” asked Todd.
“No, God-damnit, I am not OK!” she said. “Todd, is that you? Who the Hell’s that with you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, ma’am,” said Todd. “This is my buddy Peters, from the retarder crews. Come on, ma’am, we need to get you to the doc.”
“Shit, no,” said Briggs. “Look, thanks, Todd, but just help me get back to my quarters. Damn, that hurts.” The woman was shaking, white, and shivery.