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On the other hand, I got a new group of people to work with, and I already knew Ms. Nart was a lively companion, and Mr. Betts certainly seemed to be cut from the same cloth. Moreover, we were about to try Mr. Vorhees’s newest culinary masterpieces.

I stopped at the office and stuck my head in.

“Ms. Nart? I believe it’s time for lunch,” I said.

She smiled and closed her tablet. “I hope so, sar, that smell has had me drooling for the last stan.”

Apparently we weren’t the only ones who’d noticed, because there was a larger than normal crowd waiting for the buffet to be set up. The obligatory cold meats and cheese platter was already in place along with a basket of breads and rolls. When the clock struck noon, Ms. Davies brought out the fish soup and slipped the large serving dish into a warmer. Mr. Vorhees brought out a large baking dish of meat and pasta and put that in a chafing dish with a rollback cover. They added a platter of cookies on the end of the buffet and signaled us to begin. I waited for the watch standers to fill their trays and then got in line with the rest of the crew.

The soup was a lovely, clear broth with some flakes of white fish and small cubes of potato. Green onions floated on the surface and the tarragon added a delicate anise flavor to the bouquet coming off the top of the pot. The pasta was baked with a meat and tomato sauce that, when seasoned with basil, oregano, and garlic, became something close to ambrosia. I noticed that nobody was eating the cold meats and cheeses, but several added crusty rolls to their trays.

I didn’t linger in the line, just took a portion and moved on. Taking a seat at a table to the side, I invited Ms. Nart to join me. Her eyes gleamed as she placed the tray on the table and leaned over to savor the aroma of the food. I looked up in time to see Fredi come into the mess deck, assess the situation, and get into line herself. She saw me looking and waved while she waited for her turn at the soup. I nodded to the seat beside me, and she smiled broadly. It wasn’t a crowd, as mess deck meals go, but with almost fifteen people eating lunch, it might have been a record for in-port meals on the
Billy
.

Fredi came over and sat with Ulla and me.

“Ishmael, this is a marvelous idea. I meant to tell you before. With so few people aboard, it’s absurd for us to eat in the wardroom. This is so much more festive,” she said with a smile.

Ms. Nart was working methodically through her soup and seemed to be enjoying it greatly. “How did he do this, sar? This is wonderful.”

I took a sip and tested the flavors.

“If I had to guess, Ms. Nart, I’d say he used a normal fish stock, added a bit of poached mouta and some diced potatoes, and seasoned it with salt, pepper, and a hint of tarragon, to give it a little bite.”

She blinked at me. “That was a guess, sar?”

I shrugged. “I’ve some knowledge in the culinary arts.”

“I’ll bet you can cook, too,” she said, returning to her tray and moving on to the pasta bake.

Fredi leaned in on the other side.

“You need to tell me how you did this?” she said quietly.

“Did what?” I asked back, just as quietly.

“This,” she nodded at the tray.

“I didn’t
do
anything,” I said. “I just helped Mr. Vorhees realize that being a baker is one thing, and being a chef is another, but they really have a lot of things in common.”

“And you took him out to buy the spices,” she said with a shrewd look.

“Well, yes, I had a few minutes this morning.”

She chuckled. “A few minutes before you had to cover Arletta’s watch?”

Ulla finished her tray and had tomato sauce on her nose. She giggled and wiped it off. “I have to go relieve Arnie, sars. He’s not going to believe it.”

With that she scooted off, taking her dirty tray with her and leaving us alone at the table.

“You know that David is going to punish you for this, don’t you?” Fredi asked as she broke open one of the crusty rolls.

“Yes, I suspect so. It’s harder to terrorize a motivated crew.”

“Not only that, you’re showing the crew that officers can be people.”

“You think so?”

She nodded and addressed her soup again. “Yes, and by being people, officers aren’t scary.”

“We’re not? I always found officers to be very scary. Alys Giggone scared me silly.”

Fredi got a funny half smile on her face. “Yes, well, she also got you into the academy.”

“Point taken,” I agreed and finished off the last of the baked pasta. “Did you ever meet Benjamin Maxwell?”

“Oh, yes. Do they still scare the greenies with the story that he’s some kind of super spy and moves mechanically so he doesn’t inadvertently kill anybody?”

I laughed. “Well, I don’t know about still, but they did to me. Why? It’s a pretty effective story.”

“The true ones always are more effective,” she said with a little smile.

“You mean…?” I found I couldn’t finish the question.

“Oh, yes. Brilliant man. Kind, gentle, caring, and absolutely deadly. Somebody you need to have on your side.”

I found myself staring and pulled my eyes back in.

“How do you know him?” I asked when I could get my tongue wrapped around a thought again.

“He was number seven,” she said softly. There was a kind of dreamy smile on her face. She saw me looking at her and for the first time since I’d known her, she giggled. “What? You didn’t have fun at the academy? Nobody there you’ll look back on when you get to be my age and think ‘more’ about?”

She caught me with that and shocked a laugh out of me.

We sat there having coffee and watching the crew enjoy dinner. It was very nice.

“So, tell me? Why didn’t you go for captain?” I asked as the coffee cups ran low.

“Why? Isn’t cargo first important enough?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I like being cargo first.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…” I paused trying to put my thoughts together. “You know I’m not a spacer, right?”

She nodded, holding her coffee cup in both hands, her elbows on the table and letting the warm moisture waft up and over her nose.

“Well, when I started noticing people around the orbitals and such, I always thought that when you look at a captain…you know they’re a captain. You don’t need to see a uniform, you can just tell.”

She turned her head in my direction with a thoughtful frown. “Interesting, but how does that relate?”

“Well, I never met a captain who didn’t look it—until I got here and met Captain Rossett. He’s the least captainly person I think I’ve ever seen. Makes me wonder if there are a lot of people I thought were accountants and dentists who are really clipper captains.”

She laughed and said, “No, I think you’re right. He’s not got what they used to call command presence in any great amount.”

“Yes, well. Remember that night when we had the problem with Penny. You headed down the passageway hell-bent-for-leather and I watched you go, thinking—clipper captain.” I glanced at her and she was staring into space. “So, I wondered why you never…you know…went for captain…” My voice trailed off at the end.

Her eyes were totally unfocused and she was a million miles away for just a few heartbeats before she smiled at me. I mean really smiled at me. It was wonderful. She leaned closer and said, “I did.”

The shock must have shown on my face because she gave me a little shushing expression.

“But—?” I started to ask.

A look from her quelled my voice but not my curiosity. “I sat for the test—even passed the interview. But I never wanted command. I felt I owed it to Alys to go as far as I could, but I like my little cargo world. I don’t know that I actually have the—whatever it is—confidence, maybe.”

She sipped her coffee thoughtfully and I could tell she was lost in thought again.

I turned back to my tray then, embarrassed that I’d made assumptions. Not sorry that I’d asked, not, but still a bit regretful.

From beside me she asked, “So, you thought I looked like a captain?”

I turned and looked into those deep green eyes and they were laughing.

“Yeah,” I said and I felt my eyes laughing back. “Yeah, I did.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-NINE
B
REAKALL
O
RBITAL
2358-
S
EPTEMBER-10

After lunch, I settled into the office with a cup of coffee and a small pile of cookies. Ulla joined me and worked on her able spacer exam questions.

About 15:00 David Burnside stuck his head in the door. “This isn’t your watch! Where’s Arletta?” he growled.

“We traded,” I told him calmly. “She’ll relieve me at midnight and take the midwatch with my section.”

“Why?” he barked.

“Because otherwise I’d stand twenty-four stans straight and it only seemed fair.”

Ulla was trying to crawl into her tablet.

“No, you little wise—” he stopped and seemed to notice Ulla for the first time. He took a deep breath. “Why have you swapped?”

“She had an all day appointment and couldn’t get it changed to tomorrow.”

“What kind of appointment?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me.”

He stood there for a few heartbeats trying to decide if I really did know but had decided against telling him. Instead, he turned on Ulla. “So, Ms. Nart?” he asked in a slimy voice. I knew the next bit was going to be ugly. “Is he trying to add you to his harem now?”

Ulla smiled most charmingly. “Oh no, sar,” she said in a wispy little girl voice that she used to devastating effect.

Burnside snorted a kind of derisive what-do-you-expect snort.

Then she added, “I’ve been a member of Mr. Wang’s harem since almost the beginning, sar.” She turned and looked adoringly at me.

Burnside turned a bit red under the ears and said through clenched teeth—like he was trying not to explode, “I’m going ashore. I’ll be back before my watch.”

Ulla continued to gaze winningly at me.

“Okay, Ms. Nart. He’s gone. You can knock off the act now.”

In a voice that was definitely not her wispy little girl voice, she answered, “Who’s acting?” She let a saucy little pause stretch out before adding a throaty, “Sar.”

I looked at her and caught the glimmer in her eyes. “You’ve been associating with Ms. D’Heng, haven’t you!”

“Yes, sar,” she said promptly and proudly. “She’s teaching me everything she knows.”

I shuddered. “I fear for the integrity of the crew, Ms. Nart.”

“This crew, sar?” she asked, as if taken aback by the very idea. “Integrity?”

“Point taken, Ms. Nart. Point taken,” I said with a small laugh. “Now how are you coming on the able spacer exam?”

“Party pooper,” she muttered into her tablet, but I saw her grin.

We settled down to wait for dinner to see how Mr. Vorhees would make out on his second attempt. So far there hadn’t been much in the way of telltale aromas but it was still early.

At 17:30 Arletta came back aboard. She stopped at the office and looked in. She looked tired but jubilant—as if she’d been wrestling all day but had emerged victorious at the final bell.

“Where’s Ulla?” she asked with a smile.

“Getting coffee for Arnie. You look tired.”

“I’m exhausted, but I need to tell somebody.” she practically jittered with excitement. “First mate exam was today. I passed.”

I felt my face splitting in a grin. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations!”

“I’m gonna go grab a shower and get some sleep. I ate on the way back, but I need to lie down.”

“We’re under control here. Go. Tell me about it when you relieve me.”

She practically skipped down the passageway, heading for her stateroom.

I was still smiling when Ulla came back. She looked at me suspiciously but didn’t say anything.

We went to dinner and enjoyed a rich pork roast that had been crusted with a savory rub. I recognized some of the spices, but obviously Mr. Vorhees was experimenting on his own and to good effect. There was a nice chicken soup, flavored with sage and basil, and some lovely potatoes with parsley. Everything was delicious.

The rest of the evening passed without incident. Fredi and Mel came back from their dinner ashore around 22:00, both looking very striking in tailored pantsuits—Mel in a deep cranberry and Fredi in a burnt orange. They were a bit giddy as they headed to their staterooms, but who was I to gainsay them. I was actually a little jealous. It had been a long, long time since I’d gone out with a wingman and nothing planned.

By the time 23:45 rolled around, I was more than ready to get out of the office. We went through the watch change ritual pretty quickly. After the two messengers went off to bed and the mess deck as appropriate, we had a few ticks to talk.

“Long, nasty test. Hard chairs,” she said with a grin, “but I did it.”

“You’re ready to move on up!” I said congratulating her.

“I wanna go celebrate. Burnside has the watch tomorrow. Ya wanna go out and party with me?”

“You and me?” I asked a little bit unnerved. “Sure!”

“Well, I was thinking of asking Fredi and Mel, too.”