“Makes sense,” Mitt said. “I’ll get to it then. And an estimate of range under different management, as well. Whether it would do any good to conserve food supplies, things like that.”
“Exactly what I need, Mitt,” Ky said. “Good thinking.” She smiled at him; and he smiled back. The other two blinked, then managed their own smiles.
“I’ve got some data now, from the repair planning before we left the station,”Quincysaid. “Do you want it now, or when I have the whole thing—?”
“When you have it all,” Ky said. “In case something you found before changes in the light of the new situation.”
“Oh—yeah—it probably will,”Quincysaid. Her next smile was more natural. “I should’ve thought of that. I must be getting old, Captain.”
“Old age and treachery,” Ky said. “Not a bad combination.”
“I’m on it, Captain,”Garysaid when she glanced at him. “If anyone has a hidden talent, I’ll find it.”
“Good,” she said to them all. “Now—we also need to be sure we’re fresh and ready to deal with whatever happens. How long have you been up, ship’s time?”
They looked blank for a moment. “But you need the data now,”Quincysaid, without answering the question.
“Probably not for hours,” Ky said. “They’re talking to the other ships—look at the plots. I need you all rested, fed, alert, and the same for the rest of the crew. We pulled out in a hurry, but now we need to get on a schedule that keeps us fit.” Dock schedule put the whole crew on the same shift except for the standing watch. On insystem drive, they needed rotating shifts. “Quincy,Gary—make up your section schedules, then go off; Mitt and Lee will have to stay up another six, then work into the rotation. Clear?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And eat something hot,” Ky said. Hunger and fear went hand in hand.
“Yes, Captain.”
“I’ll be around the ship for a while, then I’m turning in, too. It was an interesting day on Sabine before I got to the station…” And what was it in local Sabine time, she wondered. She didn’t feel tired yet, but she knew she was. And tired captains made mistakes.
They could not afford any of her mistakes.
Chapter Nine
When the others left the bridge, Riel was still hunched stiffly over the pilot’s command board. Ky levered herself out of the captain’s seat, surprised at how stiff she was herself, and went across to him.
“Yes, Captain,” he said without looking up.
“Any navigation hazards in the next six hours?”
“Not at present, Captain. But if those warships jump in on us—”
“They know our course, and we’re doing what they told us to do. If they want to blow us away, they can, but they should be pursuing more reasonable tactical goals. Meanwhile, I need you rested for whatever happens later. Let Lee take over and you go get some sleep.”
“Captain, I was just coming on when we left—I was swing-shift watch—”
Ky felt annoyed with herself—she should have known that. Too much had happened too fast but that wasn’t any excuse.
“All right then… but consider that you’re first pilot, and we may need you worse later. At least consider going off at half watch.”
“All right.” He sat back for the first time, stretched his arms, and turned to look at her. “I never was in anything like this before, you know. I was in space force, yeah, but—that was in a military ship, and anyway we didn’t see any action.”
“Most people don’t,” Ky said, quickly replacing the thought Neither was I which would not be reassuring. “I’m just following doctrine…” Academy doctrine, taught in class—classes where instructors sometimes reminded cadets that theory wasn’t everything, that real wars had blown old theories into fragments before. And doctrine from the point of view of combatants, people who would have the big guns.”
“I’m glad we have you,” Lee said. “At least you have some military experience.” He glanced at Riel, an apologetic look meant to soften that near accusation. Riel didn’t react.
Ky felt as if someone had dropped a spaceship on her shoulders in normal G… which indeed someone had. She just managed not to say It wasn’t real military experience; education isn’t experience, another truth best left unsaid at the moment. Lee trusted her; that trust was good for him, and for his performance, which led to good for the ship and the rest of the crew.
It still felt like too much.
Except that below the pressure of that trust, below the worry, the concern that would become gut-churning anxiety if she let it, was something else. Something that led directly back to the Academy, to her first days there, to the string of cadet honors she’d earned, to the ambition she’d had to be not just an officer but a good officer, not just a ship commander, but a good—even an outstanding—ship commander.
Becoming captain of Glennys Jones had reawakened it to some degree, but the complexity of the business end—getting a contract, dealing with manufacturers and finance officers and so on—had blurred it, almost hidden it. Now it sprang up again, that little bright flame that had driven her to apply to the Academy in the first place. Danger ignited it—ignited her—the way nothing else could do.
Deep in her heart, she too was glad the Glennys Jones had her as captain. Despite her inexperience, she was convinced that no one else could commit any more deeply to her ship’s welfare. She would get them through this. She would save her ship. She would save her crew.
And somehow, despite all obstacles, she would deliver those blasted tractors and harrows and combines to Belinta.
She came back from that moment of euphoric dazzle to find Lee still looking at her as if he expected her to say something.
“We’ll do,” she said to him. “We’ll do.” She walked back to the command chair, trying to think what next, and realized that she was still in a pressure suit. So were they all. Pressure suits would not help them if the warships fired on them, and were uncomfortable and less efficient… She smiled back at Lee, who was still looking her way. “Time to get out of these things,” she said. She turned to the intercom. “Captain to crew—return pressure suits to storage, with routine maintenance checks.” Then to Lee, “If Riel’s sitting the desk, you’re the one to go rest. I’m going to be moving around the ship, Riel; I’m in contact if you need me.”
“Fine, Captain.” His voice now sounded relaxed; he was unsealing his suit.
She hoped she was right. At some level she knew she was. She went to her cabin, pulled off the pressure suit, and hung it in its locker, properly connected to its recharge connectors. All the readouts were normal, as they should be.
Now for a walk-through. Down the passage to the galley, where she found the new crew fixing meals for the rest of the ship. They wore their suits, but they had the sleeve cuffs undone, the gloves tabbed back; she could tell they’d already been at work here when she ordered suits stowed.
“What’s for dinner?” Ky asked, as if it were any ordinary day.
“Captain!” That was Li, but they had all stiffened when she spoke. “Sorry, Captain, we just—”
“You’re busy, I know that. What are you giving us?”
“Er… quick and hot, Quincy said, so we’re using the fresh stuff and making a crunchy sorga”—a Slotter Key favorite, fresh vegetables chopped into a spicy sauce—”with chicken slivers and rice. Nothing fancy.”
“Sounds good,” Ky said.
“Ten minutes, Captain,” Li said.
“Want to thank you again for taking us out of Sabine,” Skeldon said. His expression, a mix of gratitude and admiration, made Ky uneasy.
“Skeldon,” Li said; he reddened and said no more. Li went on, “We are grateful, Captain Vatta. We didn’t know how bad it was going to get, of course, but to get not only a ride out, but with Vatta…”