A Pattern of Details, Page 3

  "And what might that be?"

  "Why, yours of course! Master Kody, might we cleared to unstrap?"

  "Absolutely, sir," said Kody, "We are secure to link threshold. Commander B is planning one microjump as soon as we clear minimum distance. If any of you are uncomfortable taking a link you are welcome to stay here. We have tranqs available."

  Jackson unstrapped at Kody's first words. "Polarity, Tran." He looked at the others. "I'm thinking about a nice game of two-across until then."

  Morris considered jacking into the ship 'net but at a sharp glance from Delroy rose instead to let her out. Jackson smiled with some expectation.

  "I have an inspection to perform," said Morris, "If I'm not back I'll take it in the bay."

  "Aye sir," replied Kody.

  ***

  After a moment to verify his biometrics the doorway to the main hold popped open. It took him a while to find his equipment since the entire bay was loaded almost past capacity. Some of the shipping canisters showed signs of rough handling but nothing past what they could take. He'd verify later; for now everything seemed nominal. Halfway through the microjump klaxon sounded. Morris grabbed an anchoring strap more from habit than need. The lights almost-flickered and a barely-felt shudder vibrated the ship.

  Morris just finished his inspection when Keyson entered the hold, scanner in hand. Brow furrowed in concentration she headed to the forward access to the port hold.

  "Chief Engineer," said Morris.

  Keyson jumped, stopped and looked sharply at Morris. "Technician. Why are you here?"

  "Inspecting my equipment. You?"

  "The same. The port hold is classified. You need to leave now."

  Morris nodded, reply quenched by her manner. The jump klaxon sounded again.

  "All personnel to the departure bay," came Blakeschiff's voice, "Prepare for link protocol."

  Morris mentally grumbled profanity at Blakeschiff as he made his way to the lounge. The others had already strapped in so he managed to avoid both Jackson and Delroy, sitting instead next to Harkin.

  "Time for the big show now, yes," grinned Harkin.

  "I suppose," said Morris, "Not much show to it, though."

  "That depends on your perspective."

  Morris smiled at that and tried to place Harkin's accent. It had a strange clip to it Morris hadn't heard before. Thirty seconds before link Blakeschiff started an automated countdown. It announced at intervals of five seconds until ten and it switched to full count. Morris noted Harkin and Delroy both tensing. When the count completed the lights almost-flickered again and the vibration was slightly more pronounced but other than that no different from the microjump.

  "All personnel," announced Blakeschiff, "link protocol is complete. You may stand down."

  "Utter polarity," said Jackson with an audible grin, "We can stand down which means we can stand up. Does the Navy ever listen to its own protocols, Master Kody?"

  "Don't make me lie, sir," answered Kody with a grin of his own, "That's not my MOS."

  Jackson, Lace and Harkin chuckled at that, all the while unstrapping.

  "Are we cleared to know our flight plan," asked Jackson.

  "Negative, sir," answered Kody, "I'd tell you but I don't even know. All I do know is that we're bound for the Halcyon Autonomous Region so that's where we'll be. Eventually."

  "Pity," said Jackson, "Depending on the routing we might have a stopover in the Sandshadow Republic."

  "Torque that," said Lace with a face-wrinkling scowl, "Why the hades would you want to go there?"

  "Whyever would you not, m'dear? They love League credits there and their tourist hospitality is nothing short of legendary. Everyone in my training cadre dreamed of a vacation there."

  To that Lace shook her head. "I'll make you a deal. You don't go into any torrid details about that and I won't humiliate you at two-across."

  "A challenge," asked Jackson, grinning.

  "Indeed!"

  "Ahem." Kody cleared his throat apologetically. "Sorry folks. The commander has other plans. With jump confirmed he released some other details about our mission. He wants you to read and assimilate soonest."

  "That's not bad," said Harkin, "Maybe he'll give us the flight plan."

  "For truth," said Jackson.

  Morris elected to do his reading in his cabin and away from Jackson. The man irritated him and the thought of their extended flight depressed him.

  Morris jacked into the ship 'net and found the material Blakeschiff cleared. After a few minutes he found it terse, dry, boring, abysmally written and entirely too long. After the third time it almost put him to sleep he stood, stretched and left his cabin. Delroy, Lace and Jackson still occupied the lounge, all in deep concentration on their datapads so he quietly drew a tube of chog and walked the opposite direction. His feet led him toward engineering so he followed them.

  Keyson had the main portal open so Morris walked through it. This close to the main reactor and drives the soft, low hum permeated the air and the metal and he found it soothing.

  "Technician."

  "Good afternoon, Chief Engineer. The portal was open, I hope you don't mind."

  Keyson shrugged. "Are you here to inspect?"

  "For truth Commander Blakeschiff's briefing left me restless." When her eyes tightened at that Morris hurriedly worked out something else to say. "But... Certainly. It's been a while since I worked aboard a ship. As long as you don't mind."

  Although she didn't exactly relax Keyson stepped aside and gestured toward the engines.

  Doing his best to ignore Keyson's less-than-friendly stare Morris began the inspection protocol. He found absolutely nothing out of order and said so frequently. After the fourth such Keyson stepped behind a drive coil and began servicing it. Morris skipped that one and moved to the jump drive.

  "You haven't serviced this yet," he said.

  "I was going to do that after the drives," she replied somewhat coldly.

  "Would you like me to do it," he offered, trying to sound friendly.

  "If you wish."

  Without replying Morris started the isolation protocol. Before he could open the unit Keyson appeared beside him and grabbed his arm.

  "Hey! What the hades are you doing? Verification protocol mandates at least forty-five minutes between the start of inspection and breaching the unit."

  "That's for the capacitors," said Morris absently, "I isolated the couplings and grounded it to the fusion core. That alleviates the need for the long damping period. Besides, we won't need the capacitors until we unlink."

  Keyson opened her mouth to argue but Blakeschiff chose that moment to announce himself.

  "Chief Engineer."

  "Sir!" Keyson snapped to attention and turned to face him.

  "We need to discuss an irregularity in your log." He spared Morris a brief nod. "Technician."

  While Blakeschiff and Keyson conferred in her office Morris finished the jump drive, restored the power couplings and started working on the secondary power systems. He found ample signs of previous maintenance, even for the dirty jobs, with all of them good. By what he saw Keyson was both thorough and competent, unlike some others.

  Several years ago Morris worked with a Navy tech on basic ship power systems. The man had all the intelligence of a rock and less in the way of sense. At first Morris thought the problem was himself but a consultation with several other Techs disabused him of that notion.

  "Nar, Mo," said Lon Bishop, a Tech of many years and more stories, all of them hilarious, "The Navy an' Patrol protocols are carefully written to keep ruddy bumblers from fryin' themselves an' their ships through dumbness."

  "He's right, hon," said Christine, a Senior Master Tech and Lon's wife, "Most of those scrubbies are good enough and they do try but some of 'em aren't. The protocols were written for the worst case amongst 'em all."

  Morris let the memories of Chris, Lon and his stories carry him through finishing the secondary grid. Morris finished i
n good order and started considering the next task when the door to the office popped open. Blakeschiff emerged followed by a visibly furious but carefully-controlled Keyson.

  "Technician." This time Blakeschiff's voice sounded a few degrees warmer. "Is everything in order?"

  "Yes sir. I commend Chief Engineer Keyson's work; it is quite exemplary."

  "Good. Perhaps she will avail herself of the chance to learn from you during this mission."

  Keyson stiffened at that but said nothing. Blakeschiff turned without ceremony and left. She turned to Morris.

  "Well," she asked.

  "Is there something you'd like done?" Morris did his best to sound friendly and not anxious.

  "The landing strut actuators need cleaning and maintenance."

  "Done!" Morris grinned hugely and started for the access hatch.

  Happily buried in machinery Morris worked through lunch and well into the afternoon.

  "Hey. You can stop now. You worked through lunch."

  "I know," said Morris, not stopping.

  "I'm serious. Stop. We have plenty of time before we land."

  "I'm almost done."

  "Feces!" Keyson peered through the hatchway. "Move. I'm coming down."

  Morris, dirty and covered with grease, crowded back as best he could.

  "Heaven's flames! You were serious."

  "It won't take long now," offered Morris, "I am almost done."

  Keyson eyed him critically before lofting herself upward. Taking that as tacit approval Morris began working again.

  "I suggest you clean up for dinner," said Keyson, "The Commander will be torqued if you don't."

  "Of course," said Morris, "Shall I come back afterward?"

  "No. I have reports to finish and a log entry to correct."

  ***

  Dinner turned into a mild ordeal for Morris. Blakeschiff and Keyson sat together and talked in urgent whispers, obviously not desirous of other conversation. Harkin, Lace and Kody swapped stories while Jackson tried mightily to inveigle Delroy in conversation. Unfortunately Morris sat closest to the latter two. When Blakeschiff officially ended the meal by rising and leaving Delroy moved to a holocad terminal and pointedly ignored everyone else.

  "Frosted," said Jackson, turning to Morris, "I do love a challenge, though. So tell me, Morris, how are you at Stratagem?"

  "Not good," replied Morris. Keyson left in the direction of engineering and he thought to follow her only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

  "Neither am I," said Lace, "but I bet between us we can beat this walrokk."

  Jackson grinned at this and Morris found himself guided to the table by Lace's gentle grasp.

  "Besides," she said with a wink, "you Techs always work too hard."

  ***

  Morris frowned over his cards. Between them he and Lace had most of a red fleet with only a few different-colored dissidents. Apart from the two teams the Praetor Imperium, Kody, had a fleet almost as powerful as either but Morris doubted either Jackson or Harkin could call on the Praetor otherwise they'd have done so already. In his hand Morris held two cards that would aid them slightly, two more that would neither help nor harm and a fifth that would spell certain disaster. He hadn't exactly lied; when he learned the game during idle hours at the Academy he wasn't good but his partners and opponents were experts!

  Lace smiled at Jackson's surprise when he and Harkin didn't immediately roll over her and Morris. Still, they fought gamely from near defeat to an equal footing. By their postures he and Harkin wanted a showdown.

  "That's it," said Lace as she played an ambush card, "Morris, send your secondary fleet against the Praetor and give me your capital ship support. Let's do this!" She sat back with a smile.

  Morris sighed and set aside four of his cards. Lace's expression fell when he played the Praetor's Fist. Kody gained the ships sent against him along with half of Morris' others and most of his guarded resources. Weakened, Lace's fleet failed against Harkin and Jackson and they moved swiftly to consolidate their victory.

  "Well played," exclaimed Jackson, "For truth pure and simple! You will excuse me, though, as I intend to be totally insufferable now." He blew imaginary dust off his fingernails and buffed them on his shirt in a move he'd repeat often the next few days.

  "Until the rematch," grinned Lace.

  Morris smiled and nodded. He hadn't enjoyed Stratagem this much since his days at the Academy, even though Jackson still grated his nerves. Morris excused himself for the evening, showered, read a bit and went to bed.

  ***

  Morris' alarm woke him early the next morning. A quick check showed no assignments. He wanted to review his curriculum but Blakeschiff still hadn't released enough information; past the basics Morris had no idea what the man wanted him to teach. The lounge held one other person. Crystal Delroy sat at her holocad with the remains of a small meal beside her, smoking a drugstick and studying some three-dimensionally complex fractal diagram. She looked up momentarily when Morris walked in then buried herself in the diagram just as quickly. Morris grabbed a quick breakfast and headed for engineering.

  "What," asked Keyson sharply when Morris entered and announced himself.

  Although most of the space hadn't changed Morris saw signs of work on both drive arrays. Keyson looked disheveled and almost dirty and quite sharp-tempered.

  "What do you want me to do today," he asked, nervous from Keyson's manner.

  Keyson closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. "I thought you finished your inspection yesterday."

  "I did. I also serviced and cleaned the strut actuators." He looked past her to the drive arrays. "Is something wrong with the drive? It looked fine when I checked it."

  Keyson tensed at this. "The drive is, in my professional and personal opinion, functioning at near optimal. Perhaps you'd like to verify that?"

  More nervous than calm now Morris moved to do so. He ran the standard Navy checks then verified them with the more comprehensive Guild protocols. He noted a slight variance between the port and starboard arrays but it fell well within the safety tolerances. In fact it barely registered past the calibration error for his instruments.

  "They're function perfectly," he said, "What's wrong?"

  "Oh," she spat, voice heavy with sarcasm, "why don't you tell me?" She then strode forward until her face was bare inches from his. "Tell me, Technician, what is wrong with my engines."

  Keyson's fury along with her proximity froze any reply in Morris' throat.

  "The engine arrays are functioning well within Navy tolerances, Sir, but per the regulations I logged the variances. The small variances, as you no doubt noticed. That, in case you don't know, is why the Commander came down to rip me open. I happen to think my engines are running perfectly well, Sir, but I am not a Guild Technician. I'm just a simple Navy engineer and I've only spent the last eight years of my life working with them, Sir!"

  Morris flinched at the anger in her voice. Kelvin would know how to handle this; Morris certainly didn't.

  "In fact, Sir," continued Keyson, "what I would like for you to do is to go running off to Commander Blakeschiff and tell him my engines are bloody damned well fine!"

  Keyson turned and stormed to her office. Although Morris didn't - quite - run back to his cabin he certainly wasted no time on the journey.

  Morris sat on his bunk and tried mightily to calm himself. Although Keyson was initially cool and distant he assumed she'd be past it since they would, presumably, be working closely together. He reviewed his every action since meeting her, trying to determine what he did wrong and how to correct it. Try as he might, though, he could think of nothing. He just managed to settle his frazzled nerves when the 'comm beeped.

  "Morris." The voice belonged to Jackson.

  "Yes?"

  "I have equipment trouble and Lydia's up to her elbows in engine. I'm in the cargo bay."

  "On my way."

  ***

  Morris found Jackson half-buried in an ana
lytic bioreactor.

  "Ruddy thing broke during takeoff," said Jackson, "Whatever it is isn't simple. I can't find it."

  Morris hooked a probe into the machine's port. While the basic diagnostic ran he called up the maintenance and repair manuals and gave them a quick skim.

  "It is simple," said Morris, "You have a progressive attenuative fracture in your spinal data fiber. It shouldn't take too long."

  Jackson moved back to let Morris work. This time he did use his precision guide. After a few minutes to configure he carefully removed the damaged fiber and replaced it. Several other modules tested marginal so he adjusted them too.

  "That easy," grinned Jackson when Morris finished, "Polar. Let's see if she works, yes?"

  Morris bristled at this but hid it.

  "Better than new, of course," said Jackson, "So tell me, Morris. Who d'you think is hotter: Jena Lace, Mallory Harper or Crystal Delroy?"

  "I surely would not know. I haven't taken their temperature."

  Jackson snorted a quick laugh at this. Then he chuckled. "That's cryonic. Taken their temperature. Got a thermoscope handy?"

  The bioreactor beeped and drew Jackson's attention. Morris took the opportunity to leave, Jackson muttering all the way about 'temperature' and the instruments to measure it.

  ***

  Back in his room again Morris tried to study. Jackson's incident alerted him that he needed to know what equipment the rest of the team had and how to service it. He had no trouble finding a partial list of items, enough to start, but he simply couldn't stay focused on the manuals.

  Finally driven to distraction Morris took out the equipment he'd purchased and soon had it in pieces. He re-cleaned it, thoroughly, ripped out the marginal or weak fiber conduits and replaced them with thicker and more durable ones. With his hands occupied he let his mind wander and settle and of course it settled on his encounter with Keyson. He reviewed and re-reviewed everything he'd said and done, all the while analyzing to the extent of his ability.

  Morris vaguely heard his door beep. He answered it absently, mind still deep within its concerns. After he finished installing a particularly delicate circuit strip he felt another presence in the room with him.

  "You make that look so easy." Jena Lace sat on his bunk, comfortable and smiling at him.

  "It... It is," he said, thinking hard about the circuits, "Form follows function and there is by definition one maximal optimum for any process..."

  Lace placed her hand on his arm. "I believe you. No statement of proof is necessary. I hope you don't mind me watching you."