“Yes, ma’am, I’m Peters.”
“And of course I know Todd. You seem very fluent.”
“Well, ma’am, I done learned a bit of the lingo,” Peters admitted cautiously.
“I see. Wait where you are,” she ordered crisply, and took the few brisk steps necessary to enter the hatch.
“Yes, ma’am,” Peters said to her retreating back, and he and Todd shared a look.
“What’s happening?” Gell wanted to know. “We should get started. There is a schedule.”
Peters shrugged. “The woman we just spoke with is the second of our group. Her name is Collins, and she told me to wait. If Commander Collins tells me to wait, I wait.”
“So I see.” Gell was smiling. “How long is this likely to take?”
“I have no estimate.”
“Ssth.” Gell shook his head. “There was a fitting on the left wing that didn’t look quite right when I inspected it. I’ll check it again while we wait.”
Peters shrugged. “You are the operator.”
Gell ducked around the tail and disappeared. A few moments later Commander Collins poked her head out the hatch. “Where did the pilot go?”
“He said he had somethin’ to check, ma’am, since we was waitin’ anyway.”
“He does seem conscientious.” Collins focused on Peters, eyes narrowed. “You come with me, sailor. You, too, Todd, there’s space.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Peters resignedly, and stepped up the walkway.
“You are going to solve a problem for me,” Collins declared as they approached.
“How’s that, ma’am?”
“I’m a pilot,” she said as they entered, taking the lead up the aisle and turning her head to speak in a tone that brooked no argument. “I don’t like riding in back, and I haven’t had a chance to sit up front and see how it works. You,” she turned and pointed at Peters, “are going to sit in the cockpit with me and translate while the pilot tells me what’s going on.” The rest of the officers in the cabin had an assortment of frowns and smiles, mostly the latter; one in the second row applauded.
She marched through the VIP cabin with the two sailors following. Commander Bolton, in the left front seat, turned and frowned. “What’s this all about, Nadine?”
“I am going to sit in the right seat on the way down, unless the pilot kicks me out,” Collins said flatly. “Peters here is going to translate when the guy doing the driving explains what’s going on, and his buddy’s coming with us because I say so.” She smiled. “If you’re very nice to me I may share some of it.”
Bolton’s face darkened. “That’s not a solution I would have thought of,” he said, glancing at Dreelig, who was sitting in the right rear seat and keeping his mouth shut.
“Neither would I if I hadn’t heard him gabbing away when I was late boarding,” Collins told him with something like triumph in her voice. “You did end up handing him an NCM for what amounts to knowing what was going on better than you did, if you’ll recall.”
“Yes, I recall. I also recall a lot of fast talk leading up to that.” Bolton spread his hands. “I might just shanghai your interpreter on the way back up, find out for myself what he can and can’t do. That suit you, Peters?”
“Yes, sir,” Peters nodded. It didn’t, but…
“Come along,” Collins said firmly. “Commander Bolton can sort out his own arrangements. Later.” She led the way into the control cabin, and Peters followed, glad to escape from Bolton, whose expression was quickly developing into a full-scale scowl.
Collins seated herself, avidly scanning the sparse panel. Peters coughed behind his fist; when she looked up he said diffidently, “Ma’am, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place. The pilot sits on the sta’brd side.”
“Oops.” She got up quickly and took the left chair. “You sit behind the pilot, so we can talk,” she directed, pointing. “Why do you suppose the pilot sits on the right? It’s arbitrary, I suppose.”
Peters sat down, leaning forward to say, “Yes, ma’am, I reckon it don’t matter a whole lot, but didn’t airplanes use to have a lot of stuff in the middle?”
“Yes, they still do, the bigger ones,” she said, abstracted in her study of the panel.
“Well, ma’am, most Grallt are left-handed, that I’ve come across, that is.”
“Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”
“What’s this?” Gell wanted to know as he entered. His tone was amused rather than hostile.
“Commander Collins wants to observe as you operate the dli,” Peters explained.
“So she brought you along to interpret the explanations.” Gell looked at Collins. “It’s nice to know they aren’t all morons.”
“So there are no problems?”
“Not from my side.” Gell seated himself and looked back at Peters, still amused. “Your problems are your own.”
“All right, Peters, what’s going on?” Collins asked sharply.
“I explained to the pilot that you wanted to observe on the way down, ma’am, and he said he’d be delighted.”
“I’ll just bet,” Collins noted cheerfully. “What’s the pilot’s name?”
“Gell. He’s… just a minute, please, ma’am.” She nodded, and Peters turned to ask, “Gell, what is your precedence?”
“I am a zerkre of the fourth precedence, and second smallcraft operator of Llapaaloapalla.”
“Thank you.” Peters took a breath. “His rank’s somethin’ like warrant officer, ma’am, and he’s the second most senior pilot on the ship.”
“I see. What’s he doing now?”
That was familiar from working with Vredig. “He’s bringin’ up the zifthkakik, ma’am. The meter just in front and a little to the right shows the power level… their meters read backwards to ours, ma’am.”
“Zifthawhat?”
“Zifthkakik,” Peters pronounced slowly and distinctly. “It’s what they call the gadget that makes it go.”
“Oh, yes, I remember now. And here we go!”
“I take it from her careful examination of the controls that our guest is a ship operator,” Gell remarked as the dli shot out the bow door.
“Yes, a highly skilled and experienced one,” Peters explained.
“Oh, good.” Gell’s tone was amusedly malicious. “I was tired anyway. Tell her it’s all hers.” He pointed at the planet looming ahead. “We should go that way.” Then he leaned back and folded his arms in ostentatious leisure.
No one was touching the controls, which didn’t worry Peters as long as they weren’t close to anything. “Ah, ma’am, Gell says you should take over.”
“What?” She looked over at Gell, who smiled and gave her a little go-ahead gesture. Her posture came erect, and she began seriously scanning the panel. “What do I do?” she snapped.
“Take hold of the andli, ma’am, the thing like a fat arrowhead by your left hand.”
The dli lurched. “This?”
“Yes, ma’am, it don’t take much to move it.”
“So I just discovered. This is the control stick?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peters glanced over at Gell, catching him in the act of thumbing the button that reduced the power of whatever it was that made the dli feel planted in rock when it was moving like scat. He nodded and smiled, and the Grallt returned a wink before leaning back into his comfortable position.
Collins was experimenting, stars streaming by in the ports, being rather more systematic about it than either he or Todd had been the first time. Gradually her control became finer, and before long she could generate rotations almost as smoothly as Gell could. “That isn’t hard,” she remarked. “Easier than ours, in fact. Of course this control system was designed for a spacecraft, not adapted like ours are.”