Nimisha's Ship (33 page)

She had admired the mining operations and the repeller-protected farm crops—which she sampled, raw and cooked—and watched with keen interest when young Sh’im started training boks. Luthen Drayus and Tezza Ashke of the
Acclarke
, her radial completely knitted, happily accompanied hunts with Casper, Tim, and his Sh’im cronies.

About the only thing Meterios did right was use the
Acclarke
’s missiles during an avian raid. It had the fringe benefit of scaring the captain out of much of her disgruntlement with the unauthorized use of
Poolbeg
weaponry. She had been standing outside when the raid began and the sight of the immense raptors had sent her scurrying inside the
Acclarke.
She had the gall to boast that she had saved the settlement.

Globan had another side to relate with a grin. “I took the liberty of programming defensive action into Helm after you told me what those avian monsters could do,” he said. “So it was Helm who bagged the nineteen beasts in that raid, not Nesta Meterios.”

“It’s probably too much to ask that she’ll start believing us when we tell her other minor victories,” Jon said with a weary sigh. He’d suspected as much from the excellent marksmanship the
Acclarke
had displayed in destroying so many of the attackers—though he and Nimisha had accounted for almost as many, and the Sh’im manning the cliff batteries had taken out those that had come in too low for the ships’ guns to bear on.

Globan grimaced. “I don’t think she realized just how much the AI can do without her direct commands. I think we should keep it that way.”

“Wasn’t she briefed on its capabilities?” Nimisha asked with justifiable rancor. “I mean, even if I didn’t consider the Four up to my expectations, she makes a grand courier ship as she is.”

“I did study the specs, Nimisha,” Globan said. “Gave me something to do on my tours. Not all the captains assigned to the
Acclarke
have been as narrow-minded as Captain Meterios,” he added to cheer Nimisha.

“That’s reassuring,” she replied.

“How often do those attacks happen?” Globan asked casually.

“I’m sorry to say, less often, Globan,” Jon said, rightly assuming the young officer would have liked to man the
Acclarke
’s gunner station. “But they do come in more numbers as if they could overpower us with sheer mass, so you may still get a chance.”

“One more thing, Jon: I think she’s trying to turn Helm down. I saw her under the main control board, but I don’t think she saw me. She’s a control freak, you know.”

“Control freak or not,” Nimisha said with some heat, “she can’t dismantle Helm without losing all control of ship function. Stupid git of a woman. However, I can fix that.” She rubbed her hands together with anticipation. “Just get her out of the Four for half an hour so I can add a certain little chip and she can fiddle with the program as much as she likes but she won’t disconnect him. D’you remember where I put my tools, Jon?” she asked.

“I stashed them in the garage locker under your private code.”

“Good idea.”

“Of course, the problem will be getting her
out
of the
Acclarke
,” Globan said, not at all optimistic.

The addition of ‘a certain little chip’ was accomplished just before Captain Meterios took it in her head that Svangel had exceeded his authority in allowing the
Poolbeg
to be dismantled for the benefit of the Sh’im. Or “them,” as she insisted on referring to the Sh’im, a habit that irritated even the equably tempered Dr. Qualta.

“They have a name for themselves, Captain,” Dr. Qualta said, “and you will be good enough to use it. Sh’im. Sh’im. Sh’im. Very easy to say. Very nice folks when you get to know them.”

Meterios was visibly shocked at such vehemence from Dr. Qualta and kept out of her way. Since she was already avoiding Lady Nimisha whenever possible, Qualta and Nimisha had some relief from the woman’s company.

Jon, Casper, and Syrona were not as lucky, since they were, after all, naval officers. Jon cited his seniority in both command and length of service and was punctilious in all his dealings with her. Casper and Syrona were not as lucky, but fell back on the fact that they were Jon’s crew, not hers.

With calculated reluctance, Jon finally gave permission for her to visit the hulk of the
Poolbeg.

“Once she sees the gouges in the hull, she should be able to realize that the ship could never have been repaired this side of the main Mars Yard,” Jon said.

“Especially since we couldn’t even get the cladding off to be used where it would do some good here,” Casper added.

“It’ll be a relief to have her out of the way,” Nimisha said. “She’s beginning to get on everyone’s nerves.”

Meterios had gone through the Broken Bird wreck with Brad Karpla—or rather those areas of it humans could access. Karpla had been keen to see what sort of weapons the ship had mounted. Jon had explained that, according to the Sh’im, they had carried only asteroid deterrents, but Meterios and Karpla had to make a hands-on verification. Since the “cannon” had been situated in the now-broken nose of the ship, they were inaccessible. Karpla could find no other defensive or offensive gear and came back rather grumpy after a hot day’s climbing through the wreck.

“She got real dirty,” Tim announced with a massive grin on his face. What he didn’t say, and which the adults knew from other sources, was that he and his particular Sh’im cronies had shadowed the pair.

“Captain Meterios? Dirty?” Nimisha said, feigning surprise. “That would have been worth seeing.”

“No,” Tim replied. “She was real angry, too, and we kept out of her way.”

“Just as well, or you’d be in for another chewing out,” Nimisha said. In Meterios’s opinion, children should be seen and never heard. Tim usually ordered his Sh’im gang about in a voice that a drill sergeant would have envied.

“I don’t know how she keeps her uniforms in such impeccable condition, but she always turns herself out properly,” Syrona said, trying hard to find something positive to say about the woman. Nesta Meterios was not a tall woman—just making the height required by naval regulations—and skinny, rather than thin. She might have been attractive if she’d tried to emphasize a finely textured skin and rather large eyes and if she’d chosen a more flattering hairstyle.

“Does it herself, I’m told,” Casper said. “Not that those uniforms would last long if she were working the way we are.”

“Not that she’d ever demean herself to do so,” Nimisha said.

Meterios had elected to go on the mission to the
Poolbeg
, reassembling the entire crew complement of the
Acclarke
at a time when Jon, Nimisha, and Casper had been counting on the extra hands to help raise a windmill to power a new well. The only person who went willingly, in fact, was Valina Kelly, who wanted to scan the night skies on that side of the planet. Meterios had been difficult about including a “civilian” on a naval expedition until Dr. Qualta intervened and reminded Meterios that after all, Valina’s official and top-priority clearance to be a member of the Wormhunter space station guaranteed that she was cleared for a minor reconnaissance operation.

When the
Acclarke
lifted at dawn, Nimisha happened to be up, soothing a fractious son. Bouncing him on her shoulder, she hurried into the pilot compartment.

“Helm, are you in constant contact with the
Acclarke
’s AI?”

“Yes, Lady Nimisha. We have established a permanent link. I can screen their progress for you, if you wish.”

“I do. Keep it up at all times on the B screen and please inform me of any untoward occurrence you two may notice.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Later that day, Nimisha cornered Jon for a quiet conversation with him over the disruptive presence of Captain Nesta Meterios.

“I want her out of here before Cuiva arrives,” she said.

Jon raised his eyebrows in surprised query. “Why then?”

“I’d have to invite her to Cuiva’s Necklacing, and I’ll be damned if I’ll give the woman that satisfaction.”

Jon chuckled. “We don’t like her, do we?”

“No,” Nimisha said flatly. “This is our adventure, venture, colony, world, whatever, and her attitude could affect our relations with the Sh’im. They’re not stupid.”

“We can’t just send her off on the
Acclarke
,” he protested.

“Why not? Helm would get her back.”

“True enough, but her XO doesn’t think she received any new orders in the packet he handed over.”

Nimisha considered that. “And she’s not the personality to do anything without orders to cover her butt. I’m surprised she went to the wreck.”

“I’m not,” Jon said with a wry chuckle. “She’s going to do all she can to find fault with me or Casper or Syrona. She’s welcome to. We are different branches of service, and what holds for a courier does not hold for an explorer.”

“Then how is she trying to fault you?”

“Misuse of naval property.”

“You used it to survive, didn’t you? Which you once told me was your second operational procedure.”

“I did and it is, and on those grounds she cannot fault me. But that sort of personality has got to try.”

Nimisha let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, we have to do something about her. I’m not having her at Cuiva’s Necklacing.”

“I agree, luv,” Jon said. “Too bad the rest of the crew is so nice—with the exception of that flat-faced toady, Karpla. He takes an altogether unholy delight in hunting. Tim says his wholesale slaughter goes against Sh’im notions.”

“That’s what Casper said, too.”

“May I suggest a way out of the difficulty?” Doc said.

Nimisha swung round. “You have one?”

“If you’re looking for answers, you find them,” he said at his most sententious. “What exactly were Captain Meterios’s orders?”

Jon and Nimisha regarded each other. “Helm, ask
Acclarke
’s Helm the exact wording of Meterios’s original orders.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the quick response. “I quote ‘Captain Meterios, Naval ID—‘ ”

“Skip the heading, Helm, and get to the essence of the orders,” Nimisha said.

“ ‘Is to maintain the
Acclarke
courier vessel, 4CG 2440, in constant readiness at all times. To launch the specially constructed probe the instant the wormhole should appear. To instantly pulse a message of its reappearance Flash Override to Fleet Headquarters on Vega III. To maintain the beacon and all drone beacons in the assigned patrol area. To assist as required the scientific personnel on the space station. If feasible to traverse the wormhole and acquire sufficient stellar spectrum analyses to establish proper coordinates in the space grid. To establish, if at all possible, the current location of Lady Nimisha Boynton-Rondymense. To return at top speed with all pertinent information regarding the wormhole for analysis and dissemination.’ Those are the orders. Shall I prepare hard copy?”

“Yes, but I think we have the one we want,” Jon said, rubbing his hands together with a gleeful expression on his face. “She has not ‘returned at top speed with all pertinent information for analysis and dissemination’ and is therefore delinquent in her duty. We’ve got her.”

“Undoubtedly, because top speed is going to take her four years,” Nimisha said.

“Unless she plans to go back the way she came in the next five, that’d be my assessment.”

“Four years is not so long,” Nimisha added, delighting in the prospect of how bored Meterios would be. “But I’d hate for her crew to have to go with her.”

“They needn’t,” Doc said. “
Acclarke
’s Helm is as capable as ours in getting her back to Vegan space. She wouldn’t need the crew.”

“Yes, but she is their captain.”

“Hold it right there,” Jon said. “Helm, what orders govern the rest of the crew? Didn’t Globan say something about short tours of duty?”

“He did, he did,” Nimisha said.

“Technically speaking, they would be off duty at the end of those tours, whether or not they have been returned to base and a new assignment,” Jon said, rubbing his chin. “I’d have to check regs on that.”

“If you’ll pardon me, Commander,” Helm said, “you are correct in your assumption. Globan will have served the full four-month tour in another three weeks and five days. The others, with the exception of Brad Karpla, who is serving a year’s tour as he is checked out on the special piggyback probe, would all shortly have been replaced. Several, in fact, are overdue for reassignment.”

“Meterios could argue that they are not in a position to be rotated in the normal fashion,” Jon said, thoughtfully, “and are therefore still nominally under her command. I outrank her, and Exploration has the right to draft additional naval personnel to assist in emergency situations, but I don’t fancy trying to argue the matter with her. She can stump me on some unknown paragraph in a footnote in new regs that I couldn’t contest.”

“I could, sir,” Helm said. “The latest updates were added to my memory banks by Commander Rustin on the orders of Admiral Gollanch.”

“That’s good to know,” Nimisha said.

“That would be useful if Meterios happened to admit the infallibility of Artificial Intelligence.”

“She denies it?” Doc said, indignantly. “Maybe I can help out here.”

“So Globan says, and I’d hate to lose him. He’s fitting in here so well. And we need more colonists. Almost none of the science crew want to leave—not with all these undocumented primaries and systems to be listed.” He grinned. “Qualta’s in heaven and hopes her rejuv will last long enough for her to complete the maps.”

“
My
orders,” Doc began firmly, “are to assist Lady Nimisha in all matters.”

“Even to shanghaiing an officer off-planet?” Nimisha asked, chuckling.

“If need be.”

Jon rubbed his chin again. “Orders would work best. She can’t quibble with direct orders.”

“She’s already ignoring one of the specific orders she was given, Jon,” Nimisha said.

“True . . .”

“It won’t be long before Rustin’s here,” Jon said. “He can say he intercepted new orders for her at the pulse beacon.”