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“So, you finally found what you were looking for, sar?” Juliett asked.

I turned to look at her, but she was carefully studying her helm display. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlotte was industriously reading her tablet.

“Yes, Ms. Jaxton. Thank you. I have,” I said.

I felt a combination of relief and embarrassment wash over me as I realized that I was jumping at shadows. The oh so sinister tap on the audio transducers was a public feature of the equipment.

Now all I needed to find was how to use it.

On a hunch, I went to the installation record and found the software control program that had been installed at the same time as the hardware. The control shell name was listed there and I checked the file logs to check for the last execution of the code. It didn’t surprise me to find a date that corresponded to the equipment installations. Nobody had run that software in twenty-five stanyers. I wondered if anybody else even knew it was aboard.

I stood up from my console and walked to the front of the bridge, staring out at the Deep Dark to gather my wits. The records solved the mystery of the pre-installed taps, but I was left with my original problem. How could I gather evidence to protect myself if Apones and Mosler got out of hand again? If? When was more like it. Having another run-in with those two was inevitable.

A quick glance at the chrono showed that I had about a stan left to find a solution. In my mind I ticked off the possibilities. One, the brute force approach: turn ’em all on and record everything. Two, the subtle approach: get my tablet to ping its location all the time and record what happens around me. Three, short term approach: use my tablet to manually turn on the closest transducer.

The first was fast. I could do it instantly, but the data storage requirements would be large. The second was subtle and right on target, but it would take a while to get the code together. A few watches at least. The third would work if I grabbed the control shell and ported it to my tablet. Then I could run it from where ever I needed to. It wouldn’t be perfect but it would buy me time.

And my tripwire program would tell me if anybody else was using the transducers besides me in the mean time so I’d know what was going on.

By the time Burnside reported for duty, I had my plan under control, and I’d earned the concerned stares of my watch section.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE
D
IURNIA
S
YSTEM
2358-
A
UGUST-12

The bridge seemed crowded after weeks of having just the duty watch section up there. The captain emerged from the cabin and joined us on the bridge just moments before the countdown clicked into the imminent area. Per standing order, the jump team convened on the bridge at jump minus fifteen.

“Set jump stations, Mr. Burnside,” the captain said.

“Jump stations, aye, Captain,” Mr. Burnside answered. “Make the announcement, Mr. Mallory.”

Still, it was routine. Mostly.

Mallory finished making the announcement, and I moved from the deck watch to the systems console. Burnside took the deck watch for the transition and Arletta already had the astrogation console running. She’d been monitoring our position for half a stan.

The sail and grav keel generators had already been shut down and the
Billy
was coasting along on a pure ballistic trajectory toward a precise spot in space.

Mr. Burnside started the jump checklist. “Engineering?”

Mel was at the engineering console and said, “Sail and keel secured. Burleson drive is charged and ready to engage.”

“Astrogation?”

Arletta answered, “Course plot locked. Ship is dead on plot. Jump is locked for transition.”

I didn’t have anything to add to this checklist. For transitions, the systems console was only manned in case of an emergency.

Mr. Burnside reported, “Ship is ready for transition, Captain.”

“Jump when ready, Mr. Burnside,” the captain gave the authorization.

“Jump when ready, aye, Captain,” he replied formally. “Authorization for jump has been given. Remove safety interlocks. Prepare to jump on astrogator’s mark.”

Mel responded, “Safety locks are disengaged. Burleson drive is released to fire. Astrogation has authority and control.”

“Astrogation has authority and control,” Arletta agreed. “Standby for my mark in four ticks.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the ship plot on her screen and the counter ticking down.

“Stand by for mark—transition in ten…MARK!” she said.

Mallory started the countdown announcement and I think I held my breath. Transitions always seemed a little magical to me. I understood that the Burlesons created a worm hole by bending space/time in such a way that two areas of space separated by a very large distance became contiguous. It was like drawing a small circle on the top and bottom of a piece of paper and bending the paper so those two circles were flat against each other. That was our worm hole and we just moved from one side of the paper to the other by dropping through that hole.

Mallory finished his countdown just as the Burlesons discharged and folded the universe. I saw the discharge represented on my console but really felt nothing at all from the energy crackling through the systems and into space around us. The view out the forward port simply changed from being a panoramic view of the Deep Dark to being a slightly different panoramic view of the Deep Dark with one bright star practically dead ahead.

“Jump completed,” Arletta announced, “position is within parameters. Transition logged at 2358-July-12 time 10:14”

“Thank you, Ms. Novea,” Mr. Burnside said. “Plot and lock for Breakall Orbital.”

“Plot and lock, aye, sar,” she repeated.

“Engineering, secure Burlesons. Put up the sails, if you please.”

“Burlesons are secure. Grav keel and sail generators spooling up,” she acknowledged.

“Course plot to Breakall is locked,” Arletta announced.

“Helm, come to new heading,” Mr. Burnside ordered.

“Aye, aye, sar. Helm locked to new course, sar,” Ms. Jaxton confirmed.

“Transition complete. Drives are secured and the ship is under sail, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mr. Burnside. Secure from jump stations. Resume normal watch.”

“Secure from jump stations, aye, Captain,” Mr. Burnside replied. “Resuming normal watch. Make the announcement, Mr. Mallory.”

I secured the systems console and went back to the deck watch. The captain had already disappeared down the ladder, and in a matter of three ticks, Juliett and I were alone on the bridge again. The chrono showed 10:43.

“Well, Ms. Jaxton,” I said. “What’ll we do for a stan until Ms. Novea gets back?”

“Parchesi, sar?” she asked, staring straight ahead.

“I don’t think we have time. It’s a long game.”

Charlotte came up from the mess deck with coffee, and we settled in for the last stan of the watch. I made sure my logs were up to date.

At 11:40 when Arletta came up to relieve me she leaned over my shoulder and asked, “You ever hear of Groundhog Day?”

I looked at her curiously. “Yeah. Old Earth tradition. Something about an animal predicting spring?”

“I can’t remember where I ran across it, but this big rodent would allegedly come up from his hibernation, and if his shadow scared him, he’d duck down into his hole. That was supposed to mean something like another month and a half of winter or something.”

There must have been a quizzical expression on my face.

She flicked her eyes at the captain’s chair, and it was all I could do not to snort out loud.

“Captain Groundhog?” I asked.

She grinned a lopsided smile. “Well, we don’t have quite a month and a half left, but…” she left the rest unsaid and I had to chuckle softly.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you but I got a break on the intercom thing. I’ll know if there’s somebody listening, but the logs all show that the intercoms haven’t been used since they were installed.”

She blinked and I saw her mind ticking over behind her eyes. “That seems very strange. You’d have thought they’d have been at least tested.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but the only records in the log are from the installation when the ship was built.”

“Could somebody erase the logs?”

“Anything’s possible, but they’d have to be really good to do it without leaving a trace.”

She looked at me then with an expectant expression.

“What?”

“You wanna stand my watch, too? Or would you prefer that I relieve you?” she asked with a grin.

I chuckled as I said, “Ship is on course and on target. Transition successfully accomplished. Standing orders are unchanged. You may relieve the watch, Ms. Novea.”

“I have the watch, Mr. Wang. Logged on 2358-August-12, at 11:45 per standing order. See ya in a few stans.”

I headed down the ladder just as my tablet bipped. I almost slipped on the step when I saw it was from the captain.

My cabin at your earliest convenience.

I confess that I was more than a bit frightened by that short message. The timing and wording were the equivalent of “You better be in the cabin before you do anything else.” Thinking over the last few days, I was a bit concerned that maybe I would be getting out to walk the rest of the way to Breakall.

I took a tick to use my tablet controls to trigger the intercom in the cabin and then took the few steps down the passage to knock on his door.

One word, “Enter,” came from the other side.

I opened the door, stepped in, closed the door behind me, and braced to attention.

“Third Mate Ishmael Wang reporting as ordered, Captain.”

Yes, it was a bit of overkill. But no junior officer ever got cashiered for showing too much respect to a captain. It went with the turf. With the audio pick up live on the wall above his desk, I was going to make as good an impression as I could, in case it ever needed to be listened to. Something told me I’d need it because Mr. Burnside was there as well.

“Mr. Wang, I told you when we first met, I don’t like smart asses, troublemakers, or surprises. I like my universe orderly and predictable. You, Mr. Wang, are disrupting my orderly and predictable universe,” he said without preamble.

Somehow he still didn’t seem to understand that my name rhymed with gong, not gang. I didn’t plan to correct him.

He didn’t ask me a question, and I was at attention. The fact that I had no idea which particular thing he might have perceived as disruptive just encouraged me not to admit to anything he didn’t know about.

He and Burnside glared at me for a long tick.

“You have nothing to say in response, Mr. Wang?” the captain asked.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I do not know how to respond. If the captain could enlighten me on the actions which he finds distressing, I’d be happy to modify my behavior to be more in keeping with the captain’s wishes, sar,” I said at last.

“Are you being a wise ass, Wang?” he asked.

“Not intentionally, Captain. I don’t know what incident, activity, or behavior the Captain finds problematic.”

“Well, shall we start with interfering with a watch stander on duty?” he said.

Burnside smirked.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t know of any instance where I interfered with a watch stander’s duty. Could you be more specific?”

“Mr. Burnside tells me that he had to reprimand you for interfering with Mr. Apones while he was on duty,” the captain said.

“Oh yes, Captain. He did reprimand me.”

“And do you have anything to say about that?” he asked.

“Why, yes, Captain. I was not aware that sexual assault was considered part of a messenger-of-the-watch’s duty. It’s not listed in any of the standing orders and I’ve received no instructions that require or authorize watch standers to abuse other members of the off duty crew,” I said with a straight face. “Since Mr. Burnside’s reprimand was the first, and last, I’ve heard of it, I assumed that all other physical and sexual assaults that Mr. Apones may have engaged in have gone without incident.”

Burnside’s face turned an exquisite shade of red.

The captain stared at me for a long, cold tick.

“Do you presume to make fun of me, Mr. Wang?” he asked finally.

“No, Captain, it is not my intention. The only reprimand I received from Mr. Burnside was for preventing Mr. Apones and Mr. Mosler from sexually assaulting a junior member of the crew who was trying to work out in the gym. The situation has not come up again. I haven’t had any call to interact with Mr. Apones while he was on duty.” I hoped that little fib would fly. “At least, I’m not aware of any additional infractions that Mr. Burnside may have noted but has not yet shared with me.”

A blatant hedge, but maybe I could get away with it. Cold sweat ran down the back of my legs. I was afraid of what Burnside was going to do, but he wasn’t saying anything.

The captain stared at me, and I was suddenly unsure whether he was angry or merely pausing for effect. I could almost see him counting to ten before speaking, as if somebody had given him a formula for dressing down a junior officer. Over the stanyers, I’d had my share of hide stripped—often for good and sometimes sundry reasons. As I stood there, I began to think Captain Rossett was following a memorized script.