Double Share (22 page)

She blinked at me as she processed what I was saying. “Somebody kicked you in the jewels?” she asked incredulously.

“No, punched in the gut,” I said and stopped trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Who? Why?” she asked. When I didn’t answer right away, she said, “Burnside!” She made the name a curse.

I sighed and nodded. “I ‘
interfered
’ with his watch stander.”

“You what?” she asked, but then almost immediately added, “This is about Nart, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, how do you know about it?”

“Ulla came to me this afternoon. Thanks for standing up for her, but you have to be more careful. Those two are bad news.”

“They’re crew,” I said.

“They’re mean, vicious, and stupid,” she spat. “Being an officer won’t protect you from that.”

“Nor from Burnside, either, apparently,” I said.

“What happened?” she stepped into my stateroom and took the guest chair. She smelled wonderful. Warm, clean, soapy. I tried not to think too much about her bare knees poking out from the bottom of her robe.

“When he came to relieve the watch,” I said, focusing on her eyes, “he took me over to the bridge wing and we had a little discussion over my interference with his guys. He backed me into the corner, and while Mallory was relieving the watch, he snuck one up under my ribcage.”

“What were you supposed to do? Those thugs were assaulting a crewman!” She was getting angrier by the tick.

“His words? ‘Walk away.’”

“You can’t do that! It’s illegal.”

“What? Like punching an officer?”

“That’s illegal too, but if you walked away and something happened. If it came out that you’d been there and done nothing, then they take your ticket.”

“At least,” I agreed.

“At least!” she said.

“But you’re forgetting one thing,” I pointed out.

“What?”

“Who’s the law here?”

“We’re governed by the rules and regulations set forth by the Confederated Planets Joint Committee on Trade. This is illegal!” she sputtered.

“But who’s the law
here
?” I asked again with the emphasis on “here.”

“Rossett,” she said, her indignation collapsing as the reality hit her.

“It’s only illegal if you can make a case to the authorities,” I pointed out. “We can’t do anything in space, and we’ll have no standing once we make port if the captain won’t back us.”

We sat there, silently contemplating the situation.

“He’s going to be even more insufferable, you know,” she said.

“Which one?” I asked. “Burnside? Or Apones?”

She closed her eyes in resignation. “I was thinking Burnside, but you’re right.”

My tablet pinged to remind me that it was almost time for dinner in the wardroom. Arletta stood and slipped back through the door to the head. “I better get dressed. You grab a quick shower and I’ll walk down with you.”

I nodded and she closed the door on her side as I slipped gingerly out of my clothes and into the shower. The hot water felt good.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FOUR
D
IURNIA
S
YSTEM
2358-
J
ULY-18

By the time Arletta and I got to the wardroom, Mel and Fredi were already there and waiting. Arletta did the “sorry we’re late” routine and I got into my chair without incident.

“We were just admiring the handiwork,” Mel said with a wave around the room.

It registered then. The room was immaculate. The table cloth was really white. So white I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t before. The cutlery and glassware gleamed, and the room itself was perfect. I glanced down at the deck, around at the bulkheads, and even up at the overhead.

“Did she do everything all this afternoon?” I asked.

Fredi smiled and nodded. “Well her and some others. I came down to read, and they were going to town. It was quite a party. When I saw them in here I backed out, but Ms. Davies brought me a little pot of coffee to take back to my stateroom.”

Ms. Davies stepped through the door with a serving tray just at that moment and she smiled at us warmly. “It was my pleasure, sar. I know you like a little coffee in the afternoon so I was ready.”

“It was most considerate, Penny, thank you. And you and your colleagues did a wonderful job here.”

“We had fun, actually, sar,” she said with a pretty smile. She served us with her usual competence while she talked. “Karen, Ulla, and Vicki were great to help.”

“Vicki?” Arletta asked. “VanDalon from Power?”

“Yes, sar,” Penny said. “We had more people who were willing, but that’s all we could fit in here and still have room to move.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. “Thank you for your hard work.”

She smiled, pleased by the praise. “You’re welcome, sars. Thank you for speaking to Mr. Vorhees, Mr. Wang. We’re going to have a field day on the mess deck tonight, and he’s made one of his cakes for dessert afterward. It should be fun.”

“A field day?” Mel asked.

“Yes, sar. Mr. Wang suggested that perhaps if we got the mess deck cleaned up a little more, the crew would sit there and drink coffee. That way we wouldn’t have to pick up cups from all over the ship so often. A bunch of the crew has offered to help.”

“And Mr. Vorhees is making a cake?” Fredi asked.

“Yes, sar.” She nodded. “He makes the most amazing cakes, but only for special occasions.”

Mel and Fredi shared a look.

“Mr. Vorhees is a man of hidden talents, it seems,” Mel commented dryly.

“What time’s the party?” I asked.

“20:00, after we’ve had a chance to get the dinner mess cleaned up.”

“Did you have much trouble rounding up people to help?” Arletta asked.

Penny shook her head. “No, sar. After people saw this place, and how nice it looks now, everybody wanted to help fix up the mess deck too.” By then she’d finished serving and stood back with her tray. “Is there anything else I can get you, sars?”

“No, thank you, Ms. Davies,” Mel said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

She ducked her head almost shyly and left through the pantry.

“Will wonders never cease?” I said as I tucked into dinner.

“Ishmael?” Mel asked. “Was this what you expected when you brought this up over breakfast today?”

I shook my head. “No, I just thought maybe we could get the wardroom looking a bit better. Mr. Vorhees mentioned his problem with cups, so it seemed like a good way to ease into bringing up the state of the mess.” I shrugged, gingerly. “The rest is history.”

“How’d it spread?” Fredi asked.

“Ulla and Penny are bunkies,” Arletta said. “Ishmael is taking on a certain romantic flavor with some of our younger and more impressionable female crew.”

“Oh, not just the younger ones,” Fredi said with a wink in my direction.

I sighed. “This is getting out of hand.”

Mel grinned. “Ishmael, we’re only ten days into a ten week trip. If you think it’s bad now, wait until we get to Breakall.”

“I was hoping things would calm down as the novelty wore off.”

“It better or you may not live to see Breakall,” Arletta said darkly.

Mel and Fredi thought she was kidding and chuckled. I knew she wasn’t.

Knowing that there was a party planned, we didn’t dawdle over dinner. Ms. Davies seemed pleased when she came back with the desserts at 19:15 and we were ready for them. I just took coffee, and Arletta excused herself entirely. “Midwatch and I’ll need a nap,” she said with a smile.

Fredi and Mel each had pie with their coffee, and I sat with them while they ate.

I wanted to ask Mel about Burnside but I didn’t know how to broach the subject. It’s not like a junior officer can actually complain about a senior officer to another senior officer without repercussions.

“I discovered something today that I hadn’t expected,” I announced to the table at large.

Mel looked up thoughtfully. “I suspect you did, Ishmael,” she said with a careful expression on her face. “Care to share?”

“It’s not our ship,” I said.

Fredi and Mel both stared at me like I’d grown a second—or possibly third—head. Fredi spoke first. “Meaning what?” she asked.

“I had a discussion with my watch on the bridge this afternoon. They were concerned that it might not be appropriate for them to assist with the mess deck cleanup this evening.”

“That must have been early in the watch, because that movement was gaining momentum by 15:00,” Mel said.

“It was,” I agreed. “But I was pole axed when they questioned me whether or not it would be proper to offer to help. It’s not their job, not their duty station, so they were concerned that somebody might think—I’m not sure what. That somehow it would be inappropriate for a non-mess hand to work on cleaning up the mess deck.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Fredi chipped in. “The emphasis here is do your job and mind your business. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a ship this dysfunctional.”

“It’s because they don’t think it’s their ship,” I said. “They don’t clean it. They don’t care for it. They don’t care for each other. It’s not their ship.”

“Well, it’s not their ship,” Mel said. “It belongs to the company.”

“Yes, but that’s the point. All the ships everywhere belong to somebody, and it’s almost never the crew. Only the family co-ops are the exceptions.”

They nodded in agreement before Mel asked, “So what’s the point, Ishmael?”

“The point is that every other ship I’ve ever been on, from the
Lois McKendrick
to the
Bad Penny
, and through all the summer cruises, every other crew saw the ship as
theirs
. My ship. My crew. My duty. My responsibility. My family, even.” I looked at them to see if they understood what I was saying.

Mel looked skeptical. “Isn’t that a bit metaphysical for this bunch?”

I shook my head. “It’s not a conscious decision, or I’d agree with you. I think there’s something that makes most people identify with their ship. Before the
Billy
, I would have said everybody, but it was clear that my bridge crew has no connection to the ship—other than a place to move from A to B while being sexually assaulted and harassed.”

Fredi stiffened at that but Mel said, “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it, Ishmael?”

“Not to Ms. D’Heng,” I said. “Not to Ulla Nart. Not to Theresa Jaffee.”

“Harassed, maybe…but sexual assault?” she pressed.

“Yes,” Fredi said softly. “That’s the correct term.”

Mel looked at Fredi curiously but didn’t press the matter, instead she turned back to me. “So, what’s your conclusion, Ishmael?”

“If it’s not their ship then they’re not really crew. Just a bunch of people who happen to work in the same place. No unity. No interdependence. It becomes easy to beat up on each other. Easy to have a ‘what’s in it for me’ attitude.”

Mel said, “Well, it’s my ship.”

“Mine, too,” I told her. “But you said yourself that it’s difficult getting them to wear clean shipsuits. I think that’s why. They’re all just drifting through. Until somebody gets hurt and then that person leaves.”

“What about the mess deck cleanup party?” Mel asked. “How does that fit your theory?”

“I think it’s a simple affiliation thing. They
want
to belong. Until now, there wasn’t really anything to belong to. The captain doesn’t even belong. That sends a huge message. As far as I can tell, the only communication he has with the crew is through disciplinary actions.”

“And they’re all coming together now because we have a wonder boy third mate?” Mel asked with a grin, which took the sting out of what might have been a full hand slap. “What are we? Chopped liver?”

“I’m not saying that. You’ve had some luck with your crew. Just judging from the engineering spaces, which are head and shoulders above the regular deck areas. I’m not hearing about rampant abuse in the engineering department.”

“Mosler,” Fredi said. “He’s a bad egg.”

Mel sighed. “Yes, Mosler. I’ve tried to get rid of him more than once. Burnside always overrides me with the captain.”

“Mosler and Apones, Apones and Mosler. How have those two managed to stay employed here?”

“They’re David’s stooges,” Fredi said frankly. Mel frowned at her but Fredi turned to her friend. “No, Mel, you have to admit it. David uses them to find female crew members that he can use and abuse. They get his cast offs and his protection. There’s nothing we can prove, but you and I both know that’s going on.”

Mel sighed. “Yes, probably.”

“Not probably. Remember that SA? Three trips ago? We were inbound from Dree? Alice something?”

“Oh…” Mel looked at the tablecloth as if trying to read the name there. “Stewart, Alice Stewart.”

“Yes. Thank you. That would have kept me awake trying to remember,” Fredi said with a smile. “Remember her? She actually recorded her own rape!”

Mel sighed. “Yeah, brave girl.”

Fredi turned to look at me. “She saved the recordings and took them to the authorities when we got to port. Bypassed the first mate. Bypassed the captain. Straight to orbital security. For all the good it did.”