“If I may ask a question, ma’am?”
“We don’t usually stand on that much ceremony, Walker,” The Lieutenant said. “But go.”
“Aren’t you one of the youngest officers in Navy history?”
“There was a fourteen-year-old probationary third in the War of Eighteen Twelve,” the skipper said. “But my sister has him beat. There hasn’t been one younger than sixteen since. That young was more of a British Navy thing. They had a twelve-year-old Lieutenant put in charge of a prize crew during the Napoleonic Wars from what one of the Limeys told me. That kid had to be peeing his short pants. But, yes, my sister and I are sort of throw-backs. Da points out that this is also the smallest and most desperate the Navy’s been since the War of Eighteen Twelve.”
“A valid point,” Walker said. “But historically interesting.”
“We are living history,” The Lieutenant said, shrugging. “Each and every one of us. The founding fathers and mothers of a new nation. Which Da points out at every opportunity. Usually adding ‘conceived in liberty’ although we’re pretty much all stuck in conditions of tyranny. The next step is meet the rest of the crew. We also have a new quote engineer coming aboard. We’ll see how that works out. And Olga is staying aboard, thank God. That much I insisted on.”
“Olga?” Walker asked.
“Seaman Apprentice, just promoted, Olga Zelenova,” the skipper said. “She’s from Chicago, sort of. Ukrainian by birth but grew up in the States. She… can take some getting used to. Guys usually sort of drop their jaws and follow her around with their tongues out. But she’s actually pretty good at clearance. I got her the promotion cause she was one of the few people I could trust at my back. And she can drive the boat well enough to stand watch and she doesn’t mind doing the chores. Now if I could just get us a real cook.”
“I’m an okay cook, ma’am,” Walker said.
“I’m not bad,” The Lieutenant said. “Neither is Olga. But I’d like more or less a full time cook. We’re going to be doing pretty much continuous operations and I’d rather have someone handling the galley who has just that job. It’s not what they’re saying we need. I don’t think they’re right. So I’m going to grab a bottle of hooch and go wheedle HR. Olga!”
“Mon Capitan?” Olga said, popping her head up from below. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. Much.”
The girl was wearing bikini top and shorts. Tom successfully managed not to leer. It was tough, but he managed. The knife scars were rather surprising though, especially given that they were too old to have happened due to the apocalypse.
“This is Tom Walker,” The Lieutenant said. “Show him around the boat. I’m going to go see if I can scrounge up a cook.”
“Will do,” Olga said. “Hello, Tom, welcome to the Bella Senorita.”
“Between the captain and the clearance specialist, the boat is well named,” Tom said. “Before we take the cook’s tour: Ma’am, I met your father the other night.”
“Was Da his normal charming self?” the skipper asked.
“He was,” Walker said. “However, it was an interesting subject. Why sometimes doing things… off the books was better than officially.”
“Basis of Da’s master’s thesis,” the Lieutenant said. “Your point?”
“The compartment I was in included two Indonesian waitresses,” Walker said. “One of them, Batari, was also a cook. She’s currently doing forensic cleaning. But I’m sure I could persuade her to join us. Several issues: She hasn’t been through the nautical course. The answer to that is she practically grew up in a galley. Her father had a fishing boat in Indonesia. Issue: She’s pregnant.”
“By you?” the skipper asked.
“I believe the phrase is, ‘what happens in the compartment stays in the compartment,’ ” Walker said. “There were four other males in the compartment. The best I can say is possibly, I’d lean so far as ‘probably,’ and there was no rape involved.”
“Lucky her,” Olga said.
“So what are you saying?” the Lieutenant said. “Go steal her?”
“I understand boat crews get to scrounge more or less at will,” Walker said. “I think she’d prefer that to working for chits on one of the ships. Who is going to say I can’t bring her over to the boat? I doubt anyone’s going to miss one Indonesian cook.”
“How pregnant?” Olga asked.
“About six months,” Walker said.
“Fast work,” The Lieutenant said. “That sounds a bit like rape.”
“There wasn’t much to do in the compartment, ma’am,” Walker said. “You can ask her if you’d like. She speaks a bit of English. And I know where to find her this evening. That way you don’t have to waste your time wheedling HR.”
“I didn’t really have time for it anyway,” The Lieutenant said. “We’re getting Flotilla assignments this afternoon and having a meeting on the crossing. Okay, if you think you can scrounge a cook this evening, great. I’m all for it. And if she’s anything like Sari, Da’s cook, all the better.”
“So do I still get to show him around the boat?” Olga asked. “He’s cute. And he’s small. I bet he can fit in all sorts of spaces in the engine room.”
“She’s mostly a flirt,” The Lieutenant said. “Mostly.”
“After you, Miss Seaman,” Walker said, gesturing for her to precede him. “That way I can watch your butt while ignoring what you’re saying.”
“I zeenk I zee the beginning of zee beautiful relationship,” Olga said.
“Vos yeux sont de la couleur de la mer du Nord,” Walker replied.
“Oooo,” Olga said. “It speaks French.”
“It also speaks Ukrainian so I can know what you’re saying about me in your sleep,” Walker said.
“No hanky panky til I see if the new engineer is a prick,” The Lieutenant said.
* * *
The new engineer was a Filipino female.
“Celementina Rosamaria Starshine Sagman,” the girl said, shaking Sophia’s hand. “At your service, ma’am.”
“You’re a mechanic?” Sophia asked. She didn’t look like a mechanic. She looked like a China doll and younger than Sophia. Her documents said twenty but the Lieutenant was having a hard time believing them. And she was, unsurprisingly, pregnant. So much for that being an issue.
“My father was a mechanic, si,” Sagman said. “I grew up in the shop. I was a maid on the Festival. But I am a good mechanic.”
“Scores are high,” Sophia said. She was starting to wonder if Da was pulling strings in that regard. Walker’s scores had been through the roof. “Is that going to be an issue?” she asked, gesturing awkwardly at the young woman’s round belly.
“I will perform my duties, ma’am,” Celementina said. “I have been working with it already. This is not… ” She shrugged. “I am Filipino, ma’am. We don’t have the same attitude about it that some women have.”
“American?” Sophia said. “Or Western in general?”
“I was not meaning to be offensive, ma’am,” Celementina said.
“I get your point,” Sophia said. “In the US we’d say ‘suck it up and drive on.’ I guess Filipino women just… do. Okay. ROWPU is running slow. See if you can get it figured out. I’ve asked for a replacement but there aren’t any with the same capacity. At least that they’re willing to give up. It’s probably the filters but that’s just a guess. And we don’t have any spare ROWPU filters. So… try to figure it out. Once we start at-sea clearance, if there is any at-sea clearance, we might be able to find a new one or some filters. But for now, we need this one working. Tanking water is a pain.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the mechanic said. “Are there tools?”
“Pat should have left most of his,” Sophia said. “And, again, if not wheedle, beg or borrow. We could maybe go raid one of the liners. That’s how we roll.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Celementina said. “I am used to this.”
“And I’m off to a meeting,” Sophia said. “Walker!”
“In the engine room, ma’am,” Walker yelled.
“Grab the inflatable,” Sophia yelled. “You’re running me over to the Bo.”