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Senators get more crank letters than they'd like you to believe, but Rick Berman's staff knew that anything from one of WASA's starship people went to their boss's desk unopened. The day after Rick got back from the Arrowprize crew's sendoff at Bolt Park, he shuffled through the accumulated stack and paused at the little package return-addressed Benjamin L. Sisko, Exec Ofcr Arrowprize, c/o, etc., etc. "What the....?!"
The cassette's label read "Please see advisory instructions," so Berman unfolded the sheets of paper. The first gave him an open-ended power of attorney for Sisko's legal affairs, no limits specified. "Now why in the....?"
The other sheet was a letter. The main body of the text read:
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I hope that you never have to use this tape but that you will do so if necessary. Its purpose is evident in its content, which need not concern you unless someone tries to take legal steps to invade my privacy on starship U.W.S.S. Arrowprize NX-01. If anything of that nature happens you will recognize it, and I think the tape will take care of the problem.
I realize I have no right to saddle you with this mess but I hope you will back me up nevertheless.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSrpzxNtrJV
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Most sincerely,347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIab9NAydBd
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The scribbled signature read Ben Sisko, not Benjamin.
"Now who in the....?" Indecisive, Berman scowled. Then common sense and the pressure of backlogged obligation overcame his aroused curiosity. He punched a note into his suspense file, Open Date: Redtab, my att'n, any legal action attempted versus U.W.S.S. Arrowprize Exec Officer B.L. Sisko.
Putting tape and papers back into the container he tagged it Personal Attention Required, for the files.
Then he proceeded on down the stack, to consider matters more vital to the agency, if maybe less intriguing to himself.
It was some days later that Director Whorlton's call for help caused him to listen to Sisko's tape.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF6mdew6HSM
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"Daddy!" His touch on her shoulder brought her fully awake. Jacqueline sat up to hug him. Never mind that by her recalls they had parted only---how long?---three hours ago?----and that she'd slept through most of those; somehow she felt the two years they'd both bypassed. "Did I do right, coming down here?"
"Here is fine. Tell me how you managed." She did, he interrupting now and then with comments. "I should've thought; my spare Velcros would've been too big, but better that than nothing." and "That line was supposed to be run from the C-Gate booth to the transfer ring doors." But "supposed to" fixed nothing, or so his grimace said. "All right; you did very well. Now then: I've been aboard just a short time, just a few of us had arrived when I left the bridge. So nobody else knows you're here----yet. And frankly I've lain awake some, the past two nights, trying to figure a good way to tell them."
Out in the other room, the intercom peeped. Ben went to it and Jacqueline followed. "Sisko here."
"Ben? Archer. We've got an intruder aboard. Red Alert----yes, we do go in for that kind of thing. But get up here; this could be serious!"
"Captain---uh, I know what's happened. Trust me, there's no threat to Arrowprize. Or to the mission."
"You'd better be right, Mister---get your ass in gear!"
"To the briefing room, if you please, sir. I'll bring the supernumerary myself."
Jacqueline grimaced. "Supernumerary?"
"Well, it does sound better than 'intruder,'" Ben replied.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTDIoqZWwu2
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"What in the name of Christ were you thinking of?!" For seven solid minutes now, after barely giving Ben time to introduce Jacqueline by name, Jonathan Archer had been straining his vocal cords with questions he didn't wait long enough for Ben to answer. "You can't just add someone to the roster that way. Daughter or not. Why did you do it?"
Beverly Crusher, it seemed, had the lowest boiling point. "Oh for God's sake, Jonny! Why don't you just shut up and let him explain himself?" After a few moments of silence, Archer closed his mouth.
Mustering his thoughts, Ben started from the beginning. Jacqueline looked apprehensive, but she needn't be; he had no intention of detailing her indignities. The drug abuse, the neglect, the petty little physical punishments, yes. But his narrative never approached the bathtub incident. "____increasingly suggestive advances; the pattern was clear. And we know the irresponsibility of that kind of addict. Finally he scared Jacqueline so badly that she squirted him a faceful of tile spray...." That much was safe away. ".....and ran away to safety."
Ben spread his hands. "The fact was that in the time available I had no choice at all of securing her safety after I was gone. I can give you chapter and verse if you insist, but we'll save time if you'll just take my word for it!"
He stood. "I don't see any short fuse on the situation here; I think a decision could well wait until we get the galley into operation. Personally, I'm hungry as hell."
Whether Archer agreed or not, everyone else's feet voted with Sisko.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYKI5MX6q7w
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The tall man, the one who'd blown up at Captain Archer, came up beside Jacqueline as she followed her dad. "Hi. J.M. Colt. 2nd Officer. Welcome aboard." And shook hands.
"Jacqueline Sisko. Well, I guess you heard. Thanks. I wish the captain felt the same way."
The woman smiled. "Jonny's a book soldier. Maybe we can bring him around, maybe not. I'll give it my all, though."
Ben turned in midstride to look at her. He seemed surprised. "I want to think you, too. I didn't expect...."
"I know; I'm sorry. Personal problem. Tell you about it sometime, maybe."
"Sure, if you want to. I'm a good listener."
She laughed, and they went on to the galley area. The problem was that everything there was so well secured against the 10 weeks (ship's time) of the 5G that unbuttoning the place took quite some time, even with 17 people working at the chore.
Or maybe because it was 17. 5 or 6, Jacqueline decided, wouldn't get in each other's way so much.
But after a little while there was sufficient material, food and utensils both, made available for use that three people could begin putting together a meal. Jacqueline didn't have any more names down straight yet, but the little Asian guy seemed to know his stuff.
When they finally got around to eating, she decided there was no "seemed to" about it.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh67EO02pAB
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Wanting to stall because he still felt unprepared to back his case, Ben got Jacqueline in tow to join him in volunteering for cleanup duty. Whether or not she did any of this at home, or how she may have felt about it there, here she dug in quietly and with competence. Which, now that Ben thought about it, might make her some points with Captain Johnathan Archer.
If so, the man gave no sign. No sooner was the last of the clutter put away than he called meeting. "All right, by now we've had time to consider the situation and come to our individual conclusions. My inclination is that unauthorized personnel cannot be allowed to remain on this ship, and this young lady, charming and amiable though she may be, should be conducted to the C-Gate and returned to Earth."
He paused. Or, thought Ben, posed. "However, I am not a dictator here. I am in command, that's true. But in cases like this, not covered in regulations or mission instructions, I'm willing to go with the majority opinion. So unless Mr. Sisko cares to plead his case further, I'm prepared to abide by your vote on the matter."
Bullshit! Sisko stood. "Don't bother. I'm done pleading with you guys; I'll give you a choice. Either Jacqueline stays with me or I resign, here and now, and proceed to the C-Gate. So that I can stay with her. Take or leave it."
He sat again.
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I can't let this happen! The thrust of her legs as she stood took Jacqueline off the deck; she'd forgotten about the weak gravity and had to flap her arms in order to keep her balance. Feeling foolish, she fought embarrassment to blurt out, "Captain sir, I know you're the man in charge and your word is law, but please listen to me a minute. In the first place, nobody on Earth knows I'm here and hasn't asked you if I am. If they do, whenever, you didn't know because I hid out." he didn't have his protest together yet, so running figures through her head she went on. "I was (almost) twelve when I got in the C-Gate. By Earth time I'm fourteen now, sixteen back there if I went into the C-Gate this minute. Eighteen's legally adult; all I need is two more years, Earth time. That's"---divide by 25---"less than 1 month on here, and then if I do have to go back...."
Archer's mouth moved but no audible sound came out. Jacqueline said, "I don't know for sure if a court would grant me adult status or stick to how much time I really lived. But it's a chance. So...."
She was out of steam before she'd really made her point. But "Captain" J.M. Colt raised his voice. "I move we accept the girl's suggestion, including the part where we don't know she's aboard until we've got to. And then stall so she can stay here at least this next ship's-month."
The tall man looked around the room. "All in favor?"
Archer could see when he was beaten; he nodded. "Well, if all our personal affairs are in order now, I'd like Colt, Tucker and Stamets to take the watch until 1600, with Ben and Nyota on call. I'll have the full schedule posted shortly."
As Archer droned on, reestablishing his mindset of authority, Ben Sisko's hug tightened so hard it hurt.
But Jacqueline didn't complain.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXTNm2vUt45
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"I've asked you people here," said Senator Berman, "to avoid difficulties all around." He looked at the beefy ex-athlete and the hollow-cheeked "blond" negro beauty. "You've heard the taped deposition by Executive Officer Benjamin Sisko, concerning his daughter's report of events during the night she ran away from your home. Of itself it doesn't constitute sufficient cause to convene a grand jury, a process which would gratify my colleague, your own senator D.C. Fontana. A woman who detests sexual exploitation of minors."
Berman paused to let the idea sink in. Then he said, "The tape won't support prosecution in the absence of Sisko's daughter Jacqueline. Now I have no idea why you think she's somehow spirited herself away through a Cochrane Gate onto the starship her father is currently serving on. But if you were right, and if you succeeded in having her returned here----a process which would take at minimum the four years in C-Gate lag, over and above the notorious delays in our legal system---I think you'd find yourselves in deep shit."
Seeing their reaction to his sudden and deliberate descent into vulgarity, Berman held back a smile. The Vinsons argued a little longer, to save face, but then they left.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnlHQ6oTYQK
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The senator's words fell on Dolores Vinson like so many whipstrokes; she felt her shoulders hunch against them and tried without success to fight the reaction. It wasn't fair! She hadn't know what Arthur was up to. Of course she hadn't wanted to know; maybe she'd been too careful not to see. But still...
Beside her she saw Arthur's face shrink to a wooden mask. Well, he never was good at standing up to anyone his own size. Biting her lip, Dolores kept silence and tried to hold her own face expressionless. Arthur had to say the goodbyes; she would only nod, nothing more.
Outside, getting into the car on the driver's side whether Arthur liked it or not, Dolores put the key in the slot and pushed before turning it. I'm not through yet. You may think so, you bastard, but I'm not.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqfnmA72N29
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"Bravo, honey! Bravo!" Back in quarters and serving up hot cocoa in celebration, Ben tried to reorient himself. Geez; everything happening so damn fast! He'd always been a quick study, so prove it. "Now, there's a few things we've got to get straight."
"Like what?" Jacqueline wasn't being flip; she really wanted to know.
Sisko sorted out priorities. "You don't have any assigned status yet. Until we can remedy that, just consider everyone around you your boss and go heavy on the courtesies."
"Christmas at grandma's."
She was right, of course; Sisko remembered the big dinner at Dolores's mother's, the one time he or Jacqueline ever met the woman. Whether or not the "aunts" and "uncles" were any such thing, they all assumed parental-type control over the only youngster's in the crowd. "Pretty much, Jackie. Except with these people, at least they know you've got a head on your shoulders."
"I hope so, daddy."
Maybe she needed another compliment, but he couldn't seem to sidetrack long enough to find one. Instead: "That's another thing. Here on the ship we're the only two related; we don't want to rub it in. The way it works is, on duty we use job titles or terms of respect. But the rest of the time, except for the captain or anybody else with a tender sense of rank, we get by with first names. So how about, when I'm on watch I'm Mr. Sisko to you the same as I am to everybody else. And bumming around off duty, I'm just Ben."
He saw how it bothered her, and said, "Hey! In here and just between us, I'm still daddy."
Jacqueline nodded. "Sure, I see how it goes. I can do it."
Ben began to think this deal might work out after all. If Johnathan Archer could hold still for it without having a litter.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTfc1Gylomr
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Modifying the quarters for double occupancy was simple; the unit was designed to allow several confirmations. For this one the left end of the front room, after two of its bulkheads' first layers were rather laboriously moved out to form partitions, provided a fold-down bed, pullout drawer space, and a closet. An option in the unit's breaker box put the new room's lighting on its own switches.
Some of the unpacked boxes had to be left in the main area for now, crowding its furniture a bit, but Ben saw Jacqueline to bed in her own room.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwT9fVSC8af
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Next day arose a simple utilitarian problem: shoes, the Velcro kind, for 0G. These were stocked in the proper size for each crewmember---but none, not even the so-called "one sizes fits all" spares on hand in case of underequipped visitors, were small enough for Jacqueline to wear comfortably.
Finally Ben trimmed down the soles from a pair of his own shoes and cemented them onto two of Jacqueline's. The result was a bit nonstandard: all issue models, Velcro or not, had light fabric tops and folded flat to be stuffed into pockets or belt pouches, but Jacqueline was stuck with noncollapsible footwear.
Still, they worked for now.....347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMkUT1Xjiux
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Maybe daddy---uh, Ben----could figure out Captain Archer's posted watch sked, but to Jacqueline, it read like nuclear physics. She knew Archer and Ben and J.M. Colt each commanded a watch, that 3rd Officer Kona Nakada was relief watch chief, and that everybody on the ship worked a shift 3 days out of 4. Plus being always more or less on call if needed. But if everyone except the 4 chiefs rotated between watch shifts by some system of Colt's own devising, and trying to fit it together from the chart he posted was beyond her. He mixed abbreviations with symbols, and used multicolored styli to draw arrows here and there between them; the end result looked like a playbook sketch on Monday Morning Iceball Review.
She herself had now been assigned various part-time duties----which was all right, except that since everything about her presence here was not official, she wasn't listed on the schedule and was supposed to be kept informed by word of mouth.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. The first day was fine, helping Supply Chief Odessa Vangelos, who doubled as galley supervisor for her shift, in making an initial inventory checkup of ship's stores. Vangelos, a cheerful handsome woman in her early thirties, climbed and searched and located and identified the various items. Then she called off code numbers and quantities for Jacqueline who scrolled to the proper line on the manifest and entered okays or corrections as directed. Not the kind of chore Jacqueline would have thought to be fun, but the way Odessa whooped when she finally ran down some elusive line item, it really was. And working in 0G, learning how to use Velcro shoes for solid footing, kept Jacqueline's interest all through the shift.
Next came Odessa's day off, and Jacqueline wound up working with Galley Chief Nicolas Leger. "Nick" claimed to be 25, but looked younger: a dark compact blend of several Caribbean breeds and hailing from Haiti. An okay guy---but Ben was on watch when Jacqueline woke up, and nobody told her where she was supposed to be until she was 1 hour late to be there, so Nick wasn't too happy with her when she did show up. And while a little K.P. duty was all well and good, she didn't want to get pigeonholed into that line of work.
"That won't happen," Ben reassured her, and also promised to ascertain her schedule and keep her posted. "For one thing, starting tomorrow it's back to school. Part-time, anyway."
"How____?" But after a moment she knew: the ship's computer, how else? She'd taken a few extension courses that way, back when she and Dolores still lived in the apartment, and had also kept up with her regular courses the month in the 6th grade when she was laid up with the persistent virus that swept the area that fall. In Arthur's house, though, nobody got around to subscribe to the service. "Oh sure," she said now. "But do you suppose they'll have all that stuff in the data banks?"
"More than any one person could ever need. After all, we're supposed to have all the knowledge the colony's going to need. I mean, start with the Library of Congress and take it from there."
But until Ben assured her that he and others would supply the needed human input to her studies, she wasn't entirely reassured.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡohtGnPUZ44
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Ben Sisko's problem was that coming in as an emergency replacement he had too much slack to take up on his own personal account. When Archer said he'd assign work for Jacqueline, Ben took it for granted that the offer included seeing that the girl was informed. No so, it seemed. Fortunately, Ben Sisko could handle it.
And the school thing, too. He could help, coach her on math up to a certain point, and cover most engineering studies. The areas where he was weak---chemistry, for example, and most of the social sciences except for history---well, out of 15 other adults there had to be somebody who could chip in on any one of them, if and when the computer data wasn't adequate to Jacqueline's particular needs.
What he needed to do was get those people feeling friendly enough to want to help.
But right now he was doing some boning up on his own account. This ship, he was finding out, held big surprises----differences he hadn't been briefed on. Not just the greater length, the longer flatter-angled forward cone, or the corresponding taper from the central cylindrical section, back to a 20-meter tail diameter. For example, these things did change the shape of the "pencil lead," the Deployment Module that rode front and center, but not its general layout of overall functions.
It was the new stuff that gave him trouble. He knew this ship had a narrow lightweight auxiliary belt set behind the residence area and that it could be magnetically speeded up to give a limited 1G environment, then slowed to match speed with the main one. He hadn't known, for instance, that it carried only one "car," tangential extent about 10 meters, or that directly opposite rode a weight which moved in or out according to the car's loading, to keep the rotating mass in dynamic balance. And particularly he hadn't known that by braking to rest with respect to the ship itself, this aux belt could serve as a backup transfer ring, by way of a large slideaway hatch in the car's "ceiling."
Hell, he was getting used to the regular transfer ring being 2 levels high and its passenger/freight compartment acting as an automatic elevator between the two. Because on his familiarization tours of Stargazer and Yamato in high orbit, he'd been used to the ring being all at the outer level and reached by sloping ramps from the bridge, to getting in a car from one side and out the other, to having 3 stations on each side, not just one as was the case here. He knew the setup had to be an improvement, or it wouldn't have been adopted, but sometimes he wondered. Still, now that he thought back, those ramps had been awkward sometimes, moving heavy loads.
Anyway, it was near time he relieved the captain, on watch.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMbhALIMgS2
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Johnathan Archer had worked long and hard for this job; now at the age of 36, sometimes he almost wished he hadn't. By nature, he knew and accepted, he was an easygoing kind of man. But there's nothing easy-going about command; you have to make yes-or-no decisions and they'd better be right because they could affect the whole ship. All too often Archer wasn't sure what the right answer was, and to cope with the recurring situation he'd developed a standard reaction that even he knew was far short of optimum. When in doubt, he got arbitrary, rushed himself into decisions and then stuck to them in spite of hell. Well, not always. But to often for his own comfort, let alone best performance.
At the moment he waited, along with drive tech Jet Ducote and Kynon Nakada who doubled as a superb cook, to be relieved by Sisko the exec and whichever two of his watch were scheduled for this shift. Sisko worried Archer: this business of spiriting the child aboard illegally. Well, certainly without official sanction; laws might have been broken, then again not, but regulations had been surely bent to hell.
Archer had no children of his own, but he could sympathize. Somehow, though, he really didn't. His emotional reaction was on the order of "I feel for you, but I can't quite reach you." Because while Sisko's concern and even his actions were more or less understandable, still they put a conscientious captain in a hell of a bind, and Colt didn't appreciate it a bit.
Ah. Here came miscreant now---several minutes early, which Archer reluctantly had to add in his favor. "Reporting for duty, captain. Got anything on the log?"
"Nothing exciting. Time and position correlation well within limits." Which meant that the chronometers reading ship's time and the computer-correlated star sightings indicated that Arrowprize was about where the schedule said it should be. And once he'd logged everyone's safe arrival---well, not the kid's---and the putting of Arrowprize's various systems into operation as prescribed, then what else, except such readings, was there to enter?
"That's the best kind." Turning to the others, Sisko seemed to have trouble finding words. "Um---Vangelos, isn't it? And Nakada. Kynon Nakada , yes---I'll get everyone straight eventually. Anyway, if you want to cut out early, I'll hold the fort until my people show up."
Archer felt his face go stiff. "Out of order, Mr. Sisko. You don't dismiss my watch; I do."
Sisko grinned grinned, one side. "Oh, yeah. I forgot. Well, you heard the captain; you're relieved."
Heat and likely redness joined the stiff feeling in Archer's cheeks. Vangelos and Nakada were staring; no matter what he said now, he'd look foolisih.
He forced a laugh. "Good one! Go ahead, you guys." As they left, Johnathan Archer fought to relax his fixed smile and stifle the urge to knee Ben Sisko right in the crotch.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOvsT9YjRsH
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Now, why, thought Ben, had he pulled this foolish stunt? Because he'd tried to make a friendly move and Archer stepped on it? Childish, Sisko, childish! He said, "Hey, I was just kidding, sir. No offense, I hope."
"None taken." And elephants can fly; sure.
But you gotta take what you can get. "Well, good. I'll just log on then, captain." And you can stay or go or do cartwheels.
Elyse Cawthorn, came in while Ben was checking the previous watch's position increment against the average run. Not that there was much of a stretch to compare as yet, but as time passed it would build a fair baseline. He dropped the numbers off the screen, leaving it free for any current data worthy of notice, and looked up to greet the woman. "Hi, Griff."
"Mister Sisko." Nothing upstage here; she was just being sarcastic. Silver, curly haired Elyse was miscast for sarcastic: the glistening amber eyes, set seductively within their sockets, the multiple moles spread delicately on her neck that left a heartbreaking memory of her unfortunate looks. Striking, yes, sarcastic, no. But she pulled it off pretty well---or maybe it only seemed that way to Ben because he liked her. Physical attraction was no part of it, which was just as well; Bruno Eustice, the number two drive ace was spreading figurative pollen all over her, although she had maybe five years on him.
Ben looked around to see his other watchmate come in. Alfred Nightgazer the native American tribesman, or so he claimed; the name was official on the roster, so Ben figured it was real. He said "Hi" and guessed Nightgazer's mumble to mean about the same.
Archer stood. In off-duty mode he said, "Hello, Al. Well, you're all here. See you later." he left, still less surefooted on the Velcros than Sisko would have expected. Short training program?
Cawthorn and Nightgazer sat and belted in at their duty stations, she observing readings from the outside sensors while he ran checks on the drive monitor console. After a time the man rose and went over to the snack cabinet. Removing a Stay-Hot plastic bulb of coffee he said, "Anyone wanna join me?"
Elyse shook her head, but Ben said, "Light but not sweet, if there's one of those left in there."
"Two more," and he brought one to Sisko before sitting again. "If they could see me now, back on the reservation."
Interested, Ben said, "Where was that?"
Nightgazer laughed. "It's a joke; my people haven't had such a thing for decades. Hell, records got screwed up so bad, back when the U.N. Human Rights Commission had the Bureau giving everything away, dumping whole tribes onto the nearest Skid Road, that my own family's not quite sure which subtribe we belong to."
Sisko was shocked, but Nightgazer looked cheerful enough. "I get some mileage out of that. Interviewers always ask, and I say Potowatamie. How do you spell that, they ask. Why, just like it sounds. And there's two different spellings, so no matter what they put down, I can say they're wrong."
"Jerk their strings for a change, huh?"
"Therapeutic, you might say, sir."
Ben decided he was going to like this man.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNHiWwCz1xT
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When her father left for watch, Jacqueline sat at the room's computer terminal and called up listings for the courses she'd planned to take next fall. Though of course that time was actually two years in the past....two and a fair bit over, but she wasn't figuring that closely. Finding the information, she sampled onscreen a few of the recommended texts and decided they looked about right for her. Lab courses were something else; she doubted the ship stocked the necessities for many. And there went the field trips she'd looked forward to.....
She moved to shut the terminal down, then paused; there was something she wanted to look up. After a bit of shuffling through directories she found the section she was hunting: C-Gates, and then a subheading Local Bypass, which had to be the pair in control. It began:347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmMR2SWQILq
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"So that Arrowprize might decelerate at 5Gs without subjecting the crew to such stresses, it was first planned that all personnel simply C-Gate to Earth and back. However, this method would leave the ship uncrewed for nearly all the last 4 light-years of its voyage, allowing small timing errors to add up to excessive risk. Provision of back-to-back shipboard C-Gates cuts such risk to a minimum. Installation has been made at the rear of the control room, giving emerging crewmembers immediate access to the controls."
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There was more, but Jacqueline had what she needed so she abandoned the file. A bit of fast calculation showed her that entering the Local about 25 ship-days' prior to start of decel would permit the crew, upon emerging, to clear the 5G period nicely. And of course a skeleton crew could hold off C-Gating until just before decel started, so there'd be someone to keep tabs on everything right up until the last tenth of light-year. Satisfied, she turned the terminal to STANDBY.
And punched up a time check; if she left now she could have an unhurried snack before reporting to Paul Stamets, the drive chief, a man she'd barely spoken to.
What her duties for Stamets might be, she simply did not know; she changed into a light jumpsuit that fit in with nearly any line of work, and left. In the galley she saw her temporary boss sitting alone, so picked out a varied lunch and brought her tray over.
"Mind if I join you, boss?"
Stamets looked up. His gray, short hair almost fully covered his chiseled, lively face. 347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjNdwNWL7U3
Soft skin graciously complimented his cheekbones and left a gracious memory of his fortunate life. There was something mystifying about him, perhaps his friendly demeanor or perhaps simply a feeling of shame.
In response, the man's jaw bore a fierce look, but his smile dispelled it. "Of course. Sit down, Sisko."
Nothing more, though; for a time Jacqueline supped in silence. Then, sipping the last of her herb tea, she said, "What will I be helping with this shift?" Regarding Warp Drive she knew next to nothing, and said so: she did know that it worked without expelling reaction mass, by pushing against an inertial framework intrinsic to space-time---whatever that meant.
"Nothing to do with the drive, sorry. Not today. One of my other hats covers setting up exercise gear in the full-G ring. So you can help me tote a bale or two." Stamets was a Britisher, Jacqueline knew, but except for a slight clipped accent, she didn't talk like one.
Well. A full G, huh? "You going to rev it up?"
Stamets' grin was minimal, but at the corners of his eyes came slight crinkles. "Would you like that?"
"Sure. Why not? Its first test, right?"
"Since launch, yes. Of course they put it through its paces after assembly, while the ship still hung in orbit. But brought it back to rest then, secured to the belt, to save strain on the supporting bearings during acceleration."
As Jacqueline had guessed regarding the .3 belt itself. "Sure. That makes sense."
The man stood, so Jacqueline did also, and followed her. Once they had their utensils cleaned and put away properly, they ventured out into the corridor.
The doors at its rear end, where another circumferential passage crossed, looked just like those of the transfer ring forward, and a similar button opened them. Beyond, though, lay a bigger space: this compartment ran only a little over 3 meters from front to back, but its lateral tangential extent was roughly 10. Enough that the curvature made a real difference.
Inside, Stamets punched the doors shut. Unlike the transfer ring's car, this one had a full-fledged control panel. "First," the man said, "let's slow this thing down. A tenth of a G is sufficient to keep our feet on the deck, and moving the gear around will be a lot easier."
Yes; crates placed side by side along the rear bulkhead, with an expansion jack at one end to prevent lateral movement when rotation had been started up. Opening these containers in lightweight was tricky, but Stamets showed Jacqueline had to brace herself for the best leverage. Then, as they were lifting or sliding the various machines out, the superlightness was a tremendous aid.
Although as Paul Stamets pointed out, gravity and inertia are not indivisible, not in the slightest. A massive object takes as much force to stop it as was applied to get it moving; caution was the keyword, always caution.
But apparatus legs fitted into deck recesses and clamp levers secured them. First along the ends of the place, then as empty crates could be moved, along the rear bulkhead. Sooner than Jacqueline expected, all the gear was in place; what the few unopened containers held, she had no idea. "We'll let the next watch knock the crates down," Stamets said, and take them to our Earthgate for disposal." Then, "or the watch after. No hurry." That was fine by Jacqueline Sisko. 10th G or not, she had a respectable sweat up.
"You thirsty?" Surprisingly, a flattish bag hanging at Stamets's hip turned out to be a canteen.
Jacqueline took three little swallows, pausing between them. "Thanks, boss." But Paul Stamets was at the control panel again, and now the ring accelerated, building ersatz weight. "How do you know when you hit 1 G?"
"I don't. The control circuits do."
After only the few days she'd been aboard, the equivalent of Terran gravity settled on Jacqueline like a ton of bricks. She flexed and straightened her knees, not far, and felt the strain. “It won’t pay to go too long between sessions here, will it?”
“No. A schedule will be physically posted.
“Another one?” Oh, well. Taking it easy at first but then working up to normal exercise level, Jacqueline had herself a run on one of the stationary bikes and then a spell on a stretch rig, while the drive chief did some workouts of his own. By the time the man called it quits, Jacqueline felt up to snuff again.
Moving to the control panel, Stamets said, “Next time we’ll get the games equipment out. Or I will, if you’re assigned elsewhere.”
“Games?”
“Yes. That’s why we have all the open space.” He smiled. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried your skills at anisotropic ballistics.”
“Wha….” No, think for a minute. Anisotropic meant having different properties along different directions. “The spin, you mean. And the curvature.”
Stamets blinked. “Correct. Coriolis force and all that, the cross product of two vectors. I can never remember how the equation reads—but if a top’s spinning clockwise and you tilt it away from you, it also tilts to the right.” The ring was slowing. Not all at once; Jacqueline felt no sidewise push at all. But she could feel herself gradually getting lighter.
“Okay,” she said, her mind still on the ballistics topic. “But take bowling, say. If your alley runs straight along the curve….”
“Ah, but you must hook your shot.” Granted; Jacqueline nodded. “And imagine billiards on a properly curved ‘level’ table, like the one in the main belt rec room. Aside from Coriolis deflection the cut ball weighs more, going wiht our rotation, not against it. You’d be surprised at how much effective mass can be gained or lost, and what it does to momentum exchange on an angle shot. The corrections can’t really be calculated; people either find the knack or they don’t.”
After one moment, Jacqueline got it: higher velocity at same radius, more centripetal accel, more “weight.” And vice versa.
With a minute jar the ring coupled to the belt; in a moment the doors opened. “All right, you’re off duty, Sisko. Thanks for all your help.”
For doing her assigned job? Appreciating the courtesy, Jacqueline said, "Anytime. I enjoyed it."
As Stamets went forward toward the common areas Jacqueline turned aside. The rear transverse passage was a shorter cut home, and a shower was going to be very welcome.347Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZL7E4kRtX2
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Ben wished he knew more about the social dynamic aboard ship. He knew that here, as on Stargazer and then on Yamato, the required group marriage was intended not as a license for promiscuity but a permissive framework in which parings could be formed or dissolved without need for further legal action.
From what had happened with Stargazer‘s launch crew (two of them being returned in body bags and a third in restraints) he also knew the setup could be destructively explosive.
So when it came to putting out signals he kept a very low profile, at the same time without trying to guess who was with whom and who was not. Without actually asking, naturally.
Some were obvious but a number were not, and part of his trouble was that several seemed to be still going through the human equivalent of avian mating dances. Kynon Nakada and Jet Ducote were one such example, as Ben had spotted shortly after Jacqueline had arrive at Bolt Park.
It wasn’t that he was in a hurry to hook up with anybody, but he was on this ship for keeps, and sooner or later a man could get lonely. So it made sense to have some idea of who was already committed. Everyone else presumably had a pretty fair grasp of what was what, but coming in late, Ben didn’t. And he couldn’t ask, not really, without looking pushy. Or feeling that way, at least.
The quarters’ listing was of little help. Regardless of who might be sharing rooms de facto, officially each crewmember had an assigned space. And that’s what showed on the room listings.
No getting around it: in this uncharted wilderness of relationships, what Ben needed was a friendly native bearer. Preferably, in his view, a woman already solidly attached, who could give objective, disinterested advice. Someone like Jet, herself still figuratively bobbing and weaving as Tucker displayed his feathers, might take a query the wrong way. And Sisko did not want to air his uncertainties to another man.
3rd Officer Kynon Nakada, he knew, roomed with Charles Tucker, the backup pilot/navigator. And just on casual contact, she seemed both friendly and discreet. Nakata worked an odd sked: relieving each of his seniors in turn, he held down a different watch each day. What this routine did to his diurnal rhythms Ben hated to guess, but from his standpoint the problem was never knowing when he’d be apt to find him in the lounge, say, so he could strike up a talk.
Daydreaming, he nearly missed something on the sensor records he was scanning, covering a period of the ship’s uncrewed 5G acceleration. Late in Arrowprize‘s 14th day of accel, Ben noticed. He stopped the tape, backed it up a way, then started forward again at a slower speed: roughly one hour of real time per minute. If ship’s time could be called real…..
And there it was. Off to starboard, glowering with low albedo in the dim light umpteen billions miles from Sol, a huge dirty iceball of a planet.
A planet, of all things; who knew? He rechecked the record’s timing and estimated the distances. A long long way past Pluto; well, to go undetected until now, it had to be. And big? Bigger than Jupiter, surely, but all light elements way out here. And no magnetic field, or else a very weak one.
All right; he logged the data, priority-tagging the entries to go into the next report for C-Gating back to Earth. Just for the hell of it, he named his discovery Nootaikok; maybe the name would stick, maybe not.
Only when these things were done did he think to call his watchmates over and show them what he’d found. Jetta, at least, was suitably impressed. You could never tell about Nightgazer.
The end of the watch caught Ben by surprise; the planet had taken all his attention, cost him his sense of time. No matter; he turned to greet Beverly Crusher, but his relief was Kynon Nakada in Crusher’s stead.
Before caution or shyness or inertia cold stop him, Ben stood and said, “Kynon, I’d like to talk to you. When would be a good time? I mean, do you sleep right after a watch, or later?” I’m babbling. “If it’s all right, that is.” Firmly he made himself shut up and waited.
Nakada nodded. “After duty I will eat something, then I could be in the lounge for a time. If this is convenient?”
“Sure. Fine.” He waited for the other members of the relief group to report before dismissing his own, then said, “Your watch, Third,” and left, picking his way along the corridor and feeling fine.
The transfer ring car was at the belt, so it took the usual 20 seconds to do its half revolution and come to rest. Inside it, as the ring came up to belt speed, Ben took a deep breath. Not one of the worst watches I ever stood.
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