The Stars Blue Yonder (7 page)

He said, “If I were you, I'd ask them to stop recording.”

“Why's that?” Osherman asked.

“Because I know your background, Commander. I've met you in the future on the
Aral Sea
, and I've met you even further in the future when you're marrying my wife, and I've met you when you're eighty years old and hate my guts. But right now, right here, I know all about your current duty assignment, and I don't mean the Data Department.”

Osherman gave him a steady look. Myell didn't fidget or flinch. After a moment's consideration. Osherman left the room. While he was gone Myell rested his head on his arms again and counted to a hundred. The hum of the ship was strangely comforting, even if the whole vessel was doomed. Osherman returned a few minutes later and sat across from him.

“Go ahead, Sergeant,” he said. “I'll give you five minutes.”

“You'll give me more than that, sir. You work for the Inspector General office. You were stationed here undercover to investigate a smuggling ring, and that smuggling ring extends not only through the Supply and Data Department on this ship but on a dozen others.”

Osherman's expression was inscrutable. “You don't say.”

Myell kept going. “The point is that I
won't
say, not as long as you
keep me out of the brig. I want temporary quarters with the kids. Keep us together, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

“And you'll answer them?”

“I'll answer what I can,” Myell said. “But I won't embarrass Jodenny.”

“Tell me more about the smugglers.”

“How do I know you won't throw me in the brig anyway?”

“Because you know me,” Osherman said. “Or so you say.”

“I knew you once,” Myell replied. “We weren't exactly friends.”

“I'm not worried about being your friend, Sergeant Myell.”

On that, at least, they had something in common.

A half hour later, Myell was reunited with Kyle and Twig in temporary quarters on C-deck. The quarters weren't anything more than two cabins and a lounge, but it was better accommodations than the brig. Commander Delaney had restricted them there under guard, with techs stationed both inside and outside of the hatch.

They had twenty hours or so before the ouroboros arrived.

And maybe the Flying Doctor, too.

“You believe this crazy story?” Jem asked.

Jodenny shrugged. They were in Jem's office in the Supply Flats, which were on minimal staffing because of Sunday schedule. Jodenny was standing at a window overlooking loading dock G. Down below, DNGOs loaded and unloaded smart crates for distribution throughout Mainship.

“I don't know,” Jodenny said truthfully.

“So they're traveling in time, and we're just some temporary bubble that's going to pop when they leave. We're not even going to remember they've been here. Is that it?”

“So he claims.”

“Very convenient. What did Medical say?”

“We're still waiting.”

Jem kicked back in his chair. “It's not your everyday wild story. But if it's true, ask him where to invest money. What sports to bet on. You know, useful things.”

“It doesn't make sense that he'd leave the
Okeechobee
to go AWOL here,” she said. “Besides which, they're four months behind us in the
Alcheringa. How could he possibly have gotten onboard? And his dog tag? Why fake something like that?”

Jem picked up a genuine-leather, antique baseball from his desk. “Maybe he's just a stalker.”

“You're not helping,” she said.

“And you're getting too involved.”

She turned from the window. “How can I not get involved if he's my future husband and those are my future grandkids?”

Jem tossed her the ball. “Just don't get all wrapped up in it. You always root for the underdog, which is great. But it's going to turn you prematurely gray, too. Instead of worrying about it, freshly minted lieutenant of mine, why don't you sit down and take a swing at these personnel evaluations? They're due tomorrow and we're only halfway through.”

She tried to concentrate on the evaluations but in the quiet of the office she kept remembering the timbre of Myell's voice, and the look in his eyes when he gazed at her. When Medical called, it was almost a relief. Almost.

“You're sure?” she asked Dr. Coates twice.

“I'm forwarding the results to your queue, Lieutenant. You can see the sequence matches yourself.”

Jodenny stared at the report for several long moments. Jem came to peer over her shoulder.

“Well, then,” he said. “Congratulations. You're a grandma.”

“I think I need a drink,” she said.

“Just ignore it. Go back to your cabin, get some rest. We woke you up pretty early this morning. Come to dinner in the wardroom and I'll buy you a beer or two.”

“Sure,” she said, and closed down the DNA report.

She did go back to her cabin. Dyanne had gone off to get lunch, but Jodenny wasn't hungry. Instead she scrolled through her queue, made a halfhearted attempt on the evals for AT Harrison, who was a great performer, and AT Grant, smart but a troublemaker. After several minutes of rewriting the same paragraph over and over, she tried accessing Myell's performance records. She didn't have the clearance in Core.

With Osherman she had more luck.

“His public biography is on file in Core,” Jodenny's agent replied, when queried. “Would you like me to display it?”

“Read it to me.” She sat back on her bunk with her eyes closed as the computer recited Osherman's commissioning date, his ship assignments, his awards. His career so far was solid but unspectacular. Nothing she heard especially intrigued her. Like Jodenny, he was an academy graduate. Myell, on the other hand, would have started at the very bottom of the enlisted ranks and worked his way up. She pictured both of them in her mind. Osherman, tall and sandy-haired, dry and wry with his Kiwi accent. Myell, younger and more serious, with an intense gaze and something he was hiding. Time traveler.

Her future husbands, if Myell and the kids were to be believed.

Sitting in her cabin wasn't going to get her any more answers.

Up on C-deck, she found two security techs guarding the temporary quarters where Myell and the kids had been billeted. One of the techs checked her name against his access list and then let her in. Inside was a small lounge filled with comfortable furniture and a vidscreen. A kitchenette with a table and chairs was off to one side. A young tech was sprawled on the floor in front of the vid, teaching the kids how to play Izim.

“Is this how you stand watch?” Jodenny asked him sternly.

The tech stood hastily. “Sorry, ma'am!”

“At ease. Where's Sergeant Myell?”

Twig frowned. “He's a chief.”

“Not yet, dummy,” Kyle said.

“Stop calling me dummy!”

The security tech nodded toward one of the bedrooms. “He's back there, ma'am. With Commander Osherman, Commander Delaney, and some people from the Data Department. They're not supposed to be disturbed.”

Twig climbed up on one of the sofas. She was amazingly skinny, all elbows and knees. “Are you staying for dinner? They're bringing chocolate ice cream. We never get to eat chocolate icecream.”

Jodenny lied instantly and without regret. “I have to stand watch.”

“You could get out of it,” Kyle said. “If you wanted to.”

She didn't like the challenge in his eyes, or the way he saw through
her. “There will be plenty of time to have dinner. We're two weeks from stopping at Kiwi.”

Kyle's gaze slid back to Izim and he didn't bother to argue with her. Still perched on the back of the sofa, Twig said, “You look really young. How old are you?”

“Twenty-six. How old are you?”

“Ten. And he's thirteen, but he thinks he's so smart.”

Kyle threw a pillow at her.

Twig ducked it and nearly toppled to the floor. Jodenny caught her arm and kept her upright.

“None of that.” Jodenny cast a gaze at Myell's closed hatch and weighed the consequences of disturbing Commander Delaney. “Sit down properly and show me how you play this game.”

She knew how to play Izim, of course, but it was mildly entertaining to watch Twig try to explain the various levels and puzzles to her. The security tech, Hadley, retreated to the main hatch to stand his guard. Kyle listened to Twig's explanations with growing exasperation and finally grabbed the pointer from her hands.

“You don't do it that way, stupid.”

“Give it back! Nana, tell him to give it to me.”

Jodenny blinked at the name. “I'm not your nana. Yet.”

“You will be,” Twig said. “When you're old.”

“How old?”

Kyle's gaze was fixed on the screen. “Where we came from, you're seventy. Older than almost everyone else.”

“Am I happy?”

Twig made a face. “Your back hurts, because you fell a few years ago. And your leg and hips hurt, because you broke them once. You never told us how. But you're gray and all wrinkled and you're grumpy a lot, but sometimes not so much.”

Kyle remained silent on the matter, focused on the game.

Myell's hatch opened. Osherman, Commander Delaney, and two officers Jodenny didn't recognize emerged, all of them looking grim-faced. Osherman stayed behind as the others left.

“You saw the medical results?” he asked Jodenny.

She nodded.

“Bit awkward,” Osherman said, running his fingers through his short hair. “You, me, and him.”

“There is no me, you, and him,” Jodenny said.

“You don't believe in time travel?”

“You do?”

He said, “I believe in genetics testing. Kyle has your DNA and mine. Twig carries DNA from both you and Sergeant Myell. That's mighty strange, don't you think?”

“No odder than a man claiming to be a time traveler.” Jodenny glanced at the kids, but they appeared engrossed in the game. The sounds of explosions and gunfire rang out from the screen.

“He's fairly persuasive, Lieutenant. You should talk to him.”

She took that as a dare. Myell's hatch was still open. He was sitting on the bed considering his own bare feet. He wriggled his toes and flexed his heels.

“Hello, Kay,” he said, without much enthusiasm.

Jodenny leaned against the open hatchway in an attempt to look casual. “Why do you call me that? That's the name of my computer agent.”

“I know. Did you come to hear stories about the future?”

“Maybe,” she said.

He nodded toward an empty chair, but she didn't move. She said, “I received the medical reports.”

Myell poured himself some water from a plastic pitcher. “So you know it's true. They're both your grandchildren, with different grandfathers. Myself and Commander Osherman.”

“I still don't understand how.”

“It's not that hard, is it, Lieutenant?”

She didn't like the sarcasm in his voice. Didn't like it one bit.

Jodenny said, “If I married an enlisted man, I'd be brought up on fraternization charges.”

“There's ways around that.”

“And we found them?”

Myell gave her a bland smile that meant nothing at all.

Jodenny folded her arms. “I hope this doesn't ruin the course of time, but I don't even like you.”

“Doesn't matter.” Myell reached for a pair of gray socks balled up on the deck. The boots beside them were freshly issued and spotlessly clean. “You know what I like best about Team Space? The socks. Excellent socks. You get them wet and they dry out. You rip them, and they meld back together. When your toes get cold they warm them up, and when your feet are hot they cool them off. My first day in boot camp, when I got my first pair, I knew I'd made the right decision.”

“You're a man of simple pleasures. Obviously that's why I fall in love with you.”

He pulled one of the excellent socks onto his left foot. “Who said anything about love? Maybe I just knock you up. Maybe we get married when we're drunk and you're going through a fit of rebelliousness. Maybe we get married just so you can screw me over for Sam. He's an officer, after all.”

“And you're enlisted, so that's Commander Osherman to you.”

The half-smile returned. “Commander Osherman. Yes, ma'am.”

Jodenny wanted to take the remaining sock and shove it into his mouth. Good looks could only get this sailor so far, future husband or not. “Why are you here? Why are you traveling through time with grandchildren in tow? Some sort of strange vacation?”

“There's nothing relaxing about this.” Myell pulled on his boots. “We were thrown here. I don't know how it works or how to control it. I don't know how to get them home, or if any of us can ever go home.”

“Where's home to you?” she asked.

He shook his head.

She took a deep breath. “I don't believe your story, Sergeant. You appear to have convinced Commander Osherman, and who knows what Commander Delaney thinks. The tests say one thing but they can be wrong, or mixed up, or there could be some reasonable explanation other than time travel. This is my life we're talking about. My career. Which I don't intend on throwing away anytime soon.”

His expression was shuttered. “Which is what you'd do, marrying me? Throw your life away?”

Jodenny spun away and left him with his socks.

CHAPTER FIVE

“So let me get this straight,” Ensign Hawkins said, hoisting his beer. “You just put on your full lieutenant bars this morning and already you're a grandma? Fast work!”

The wardroom was busy and loud, and Jodenny regretted coming. Everyone appeared to have heard the tale of the time-traveling sergeant and the ridiculous claims about her future love life. Gossip had run rife through the department all day—nay, the entire ship, no doubt—and she was feeling like the butt of a particularly bad joke.