FOUR
“Rendezvous point approaching,” Klay’s voice was calm and serious over the all-ship. It made Squithy feel better even in the midst of norbear wrangling.
“Reviewing protocol,” that was Tranh. “We will make rendezvous, and match. Once we’re stable, Dulsey will deploy her tube. We’ll connect at cargo door V6, trade air, then move the cases. How many cases is that, Squith?”
She looked up at the ceiling speaker, inclined to feel a little irritable, but, there. It was check-check-check, and that was normal. It was—not risky, like Klay had told her, but a picky maneuver, with lots of little pieces that had to fit together and stay together until the transfer was made. Timing was important, and the piece she was in charge of—moving the crates of feed, and the crate of norbears, to cargo door V6, into the tube and across to Dulsey—that was a big, important piece.
“We got three cases of mixed bales,” she said, answering the captain’s question. “An’ one case of norbears. Four cases total, moving quick as we can without stretching the tube.”
Susrim would be moving the three cases of bales to the tube via the minilift, and they’d go across first.
The case of norbears, that was her big problem right now. The seven bold scouts who were to transfer to Dulsey saw no reason for a case. They could walk, in fact they would walk. Cases were all very well and good for food, but a case would not do for the norbears setting off on the grandest adventure that ever any norbear had ever had…that they knew of, Bebyear admitted, in a whispered under-thought.
That thought was taken and shared excitedly, because that was exactly what the bold far-traveling scouts were seeking on their adventure! New contacts, wider connections, more knowledge. They would not start by being afraid!
It was all, Squithy thought, a little much, especially after Mitsy and Ditsy’s rebellion when she showed them their new quarters.
Senior crew had decided that it would be a good thing to have the hold the norbears had been occupying put back to its original function. Mitsy and Ditsy being considerably less norbear than the whole pod, and there currently being no littles to care for, senior crew had decided to reassign alt-crew to the nursery cabin.
They were not, Ditsy and Mitsy allowed her to know, babies; they were every bit as bold and as brave as those scouts who had chosen to travel aside, and they would remain in the proper location for bold scouts.
She had countered that the new location was situated nearer to the pantry and the rest of crew quarters, which was proper for alt-crew, and nowhere casual visitors, or inspectors, were likely to venture.
Mitsy and Ditsy, came the counter, were not afraid. This was accompanied by the picture of Klay facing the tobor.
“Senior crew,” Squithy said then, “made the decision. You’re alt-crew. Senior crew says, reg’lar and alt-crew does. That’s how it is on any Looper ship I ever heard about, and the big traders, too. Neither one of you is captain yet, nor I’m not. We got our orders, is what I’m saying.”
That had given them pause. While the inside of her head was still quiet, she added, “Senior crew knows you’re big and you were there when Klay was brave. Senior crew knows personal that it’s better not to have to be brave so hard all the time. There’s nothing wrong with being safe, when you can be. Klay told me he still has bad dreams about being stuck to that tree.”
She felt them considering that, and something under it, like the other norbears, who had been listening, but not participating in the argument, were whispering advice.
Mitsy sent a picture of the three of them sitting in the new quarters, sharing thoughts, and Squithy agreed, adding the suggestion that they go to the new quarters now, so they wouldn’t get hurt during the transfer, and built up a picture of the minilift, with three cases in its claw.
More agreement, and they were gone, not offering anything like a good-bye for the norbears who were going. Well, Squithy thought; they’d done all that, when they were deciding.
With Mitsy and Ditsy gone, she had turned to explaining that norbears would cross to Dulsey in a case.
Senior crew hadn’t hauled any weight in that argument like it had with Mitsy and Ditsy, and Squithy had produced the matter of timing, of norbears strolling down the tube suddenly bounced around, as if the orientation between the two ships slipped. She’d read up about tube-links and why were they done, and what could go wrong, and all the whys of doing or not, after Dulsey had sent them the coords for rendezvous, instead of the name of a port where the exchange could take place. A lot of things could go wrong with a transport tube, even when everybody was being careful. That’s why timing was important.
Her image caught the norbears, who shared it among themselves, examining it from various angles. Someone—possibly Ebling—offered an image of a norbear Squithy had never seen before, with a front paw hanging at a bad angle, like it was broken.
That produced consternation, and a clear statement from Oki, backed by Holdhand and Silver, that it was hard for even the bravest scout to be bold if their paw was useless.
Squithy grabbed that opportunity, building an image of the crate she had made ready for norbears, lined with shock pads, and soft grasses, and a safety net stretched over it all, so that there would be no chance of norbears spilling out and being hurt, even if the tube did misbehave.
Oki took that image, and added in their group of seven, snugged down together among the soft grasses, sharing dreams until Dulsey pulled the safety net off, and smiled.
There was a pause as they shared this series of images among themselves. Squithy waited, and—she felt them reach an agreement.
She smiled.
“I’m glad you’re going to be safe,” she said, sending feelings of approval and relief to the group.
Then, she took a breath and began to explain about timing.
“Firm connect, air pressure good, moderate flow down to Alkovo Alvokita.” Klay’s voice came over the all-ship, calm, and that not only made Squithy feel better, but it made the norbears feel better, too.
“Now, Susrim,” said Rusko.
Squithy swallowed. Timing, she told herself.
The norbears were in their crate, snuggled down into the grass in a furry knot. She could feel them assuring each other that they were all brave scouts, even as the elders tucked the youngers into the center of the knot. Ebling and Holdhand were crooning out-loud, Bebyear making a thought-echo. Squithy felt Oki with her, as she checked the netting for the third time, and made sure the crate was firm on the skis, and the skis were firm in the tracks.
Everything checked; everything was good. There would, she told herself, be no problems with the transfer. Klay and Rusko were good pilots; Dulsey was a good pilot. They all three knew their numbers, and were steady at their boards. All she needed to do was to keep to the timing.
She felt a gentle pat inside her head, and smiled as she sent the same back to Oki.
“It’s time, Squithy,” Rusko said. “Alt-crew to the exchange tube.”
“Yes,” Squithy said, and pushed. The crate slid forward, slick and quick along the track in the decking, and they were on their way to cargo door V6.
The minilift was in the loading zone, half across the cargo door, ready lights blinking, but Squithy didn’t see Susrim. She didn’t see the three cargo boxes of norbear food, either, so he must have sent them down the tube already, and—just left the lift while Alkovo Alvokita’s crew cleared the tube on their end. That was all right, Squithy thought. In fact, it was better than if he’d stayed to—help, or make sure all the norbears who were going were in the crate.
Perhaps she should wait until Alkovo Alvokita finished moving the food and could receive, but the angle wasn’t that steep, and waiting here wasn’t helping her or the norbears.
And besides, she heard Klay’s patient voice say “three minutes” across the all-call. She took a breath, felt another mental pat, and said, “Here we are, brave scouts, on the edge of your adventure.”
“Three minutes”…she thought—right, Tranh had figured they’d only have to maintain the link for four or five minutes, the fewer better.
She got the crate to the edge, disengaged the skis, and pushed.
The crate slid over into the tunnel and began to slide toward the other end, which was down, according to local gravity. The slide didn’t make much noise and if the norbears did, she didn’t hear it over the ruffle air from Dulcimer made against her ears as it tried to equalize some change behind her.
The timing said that she should leave the area now, but she stayed, watching the crate moving, pushing with her mind—pushing good luck and norbears be good and come home soon.
She thought she felt an echo, and then the crate reached the other end, and vanished as quick hands pulled it into Dulsey’s ship. Safe.
Squithy sighed—and heard the deck ringing under rapid footsteps. She turned—and here came Susrim, carrying a large bag in one hand, his face set.
“Out of my way!” he snapped, and shoved on, slamming her against the seal. Inside her head, she saw a tobor, the touch familiar and—
“No! Mitsy and Ditsy are alt-crew! They’re staying with us!”
“The animals have got to go—all of them!” Susrim yelled, and threw the sack into the tube.
It hit and rolled; Squithy felt pain in her leg and jumped—into the tube, down to the sack, which wasn’t heavy enough to keep on rolling, though it was wriggling energetically. The sensation of danger, and the pain in her leg increased. She grabbed the bag, sending a picture of Klay and the tobor dead. She turned back toward Dulcimer, and there was Susrim filling the door using the bulk of the minilift as a deterrent to letting her back in with the bag.
“Don’t you bring those things back!” he screamed, then hit a button on the lift, making it rotate and swing toward her.
Squithy ducked, rolling the bag past him, low and gentle, taking the shove on her shoulder while she was still on the tubeway, pushing with her legs, trying to move Susrim back so she could get in past the lift and the tube lock.
The lift whined briefly as he twisted a control and there was a thud, and a screech of some material tearing or straining and she pushed harder. Because the tube was shaking and that wasn’t right, but her push wasn’t strong enough because she was pushing up, and Susrim pushed back, pushing down with his hand while the lift rotated, knocking her off her feet, and the tube was shaking bad.
She was rolling and the tube was stretched and swinging, and she tried to grab on, to stop, to—
The tube flexed, hard. Squithy smacked against the sides, or the floor, or the ceiling.
The last thing she saw was the cargo door closing.
Susrim spun, meaning to kick the sack back into the tube.
“Don’t you even think about it!” Falmer was holding the two furry monsters against her chest, the sack crumpled on the decking at her feet.
“What in space is the matter with you?” Falmer shouted. “Captain says these ones are crew! You all about throwing crew off the ship now, Susrim? What—”
She stopped, her face going blank, her eyes distant, and that was them, Susrim knew it, them getting into her head and changing her thoughts!
He lunged; Falmer turned, and brought her knee up like she was fighting off a dock bully.
Susrim folded onto the deck.
“Emergency!” Falmer yelled. “Squithy—I dunno where Squithy is; cargo door sealed. Susrim incapable and alt-crew hurt! I think.”
“Tube holding,” Rusko said, sounding just as stupid calm as he always did, Susrim thought, leaning against the wall and gasping. “Tranh’s on comm with Dulsey…all received safe, says Dulsey.”
“Where’s Squithy?” Falmer demanded. “I—”
“Dulsey has Squithy,” Rusko said. “Reports minor damage, and mad as fire. Auto-release tube; Dulsey’s taking it in.”
There was a pause.
“Squithy’ll be traveling with Dulsey and the norbears,” Tranh said. “Dulsey suggests that’ll be the case until we can guarantee a safe ship for all crew.”
“Better off without all of ’em,” Susrim wheezed, and heaved to his feet.
“Was that Susrim?” Tranh said.
“What if it is?” he snarled. “Captain.”
“Falmer, get you and alt-crew to the galley, now!” Tranh said sharply. “Susrim, you’re confined to quarters. You know the way, or you need an escort?”
Falmer was gone in a flurry of rapid footsteps.
Susrim sagged against the wall, then straightened. So, two of the monsters were still on-board, that was bad. But Squithy and most of the monsters were gone—and that was good. Tranh was coming the stern captain. Confined to quarters, was he? Well, the captain’d see real quick that the ship needed Susrim.
“I know the way to my own quarters,” he snarled.
“Then get there. Report in to me in two minutes.”
That was none-too-generous, now was it?
Susrim pushed away from the wall and shuffled into a run.
“Separation clean,” Klay said, cool and firm. Rusko, sitting second board, kept his voice low and easy.
“Confirm clean separation.”
“Course in. Locked. Copilot starts count and takes the board.”
“Course in, confirm. Locked, confirm. Transfer, confirm. Count starting now—one.”
“Pilot requests relief, cap’n,” Klay said, calm voice given the lie by the storm on his face.
“Pilot relief granted. Take a walk, Klay.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Klay said, still calm.
“That you are not,” Tranh said. “Straight opposed to onboard rules, killing a shipmate. I see you’re mad, so I’ll remind you what happens next, after you take a walk, or hit some exercise, and we get us into Jump. Senior crew reviews the vid from the camera on V6 to satisfy ourselves on the facts. Then, we talk to Falmer, and alt-crew—what’s their names?”
“Mitsy and Ditsy,” Klay said automatically.
“Right then, crewpersons Mitsy and Ditsy, we talk with them. We talk with Susrim, and then we deal out discipline. Right?”
“Right,” Klay said, grimly.
“Now you’re gonna go exercise, get a snack, maybe a lay-down. Squithy and the loan-crew’re all with Dulsey, reported largely intact. Susrim’s got a lot to answer for, I’m not saying he don’t. But we’re a reg’lar ship and we got protocols. Tell me yeah.”
Klay sighed, and closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding tired, which Tranh didn’t blame him for that.
“Shift changes, then, Pilot. Go get yourself straightened out.”
Another sigh, this one deeper than the first. Klay nodded—“Cap’n”—and left the tower.
Tranh fetched up a sigh of his own, slid into the vacant chair, made the adjustments, and opened the board.
“Got scans and comm, Pilot,” he told Rusko.
“Course set in,” Rusko told him. “Ten minutes to Jump.” He turned his head and gave Tranh a grin. “Good job talking Klay down. I was half-inclined to let him get on it, myself.”
“Me, too,” said Tranh. “Reg’lar, though, Rusko. Gotta stay reg’lar.”
“I agree,” said Rusko, and went back to his board.
Squithy woke up to a party in her head.
In short order, she was a bold scout who had thrust herself between norbears and a disturbing image that might have been a melding of Susrim and the tobor. More! She had joined the bold band of scouts on their side-trip—and here she was swamped with a host of faces—Oki, Ebling, Silver, Synbe, Bebyear, Holdhand, Rutaren—and Dulsey, who came with her own series of images, of places, and faces, and—
“Stop!” Squithy said, and sent an image of quiet norbears curled together in the sweet grasses. “I have to think.”
The party got less noisy, which wasn’t as much of a relief as it might’ve been, because in the quiet she noticed that she had a headache. There was still an undercurrent of excitement and purpose and celebration weaving between her own thoughts, which were increasingly worrisome.
Susrim had thrown Mitsy and Ditsy into the tube! He’d hurt them! And she’d run out to get them back, feeling the pain in her leg, and Susrim pushed her, and the door sealed, and the tube—the tube—
Oki sent the patting-on-the-wrist feel, and Squithy remembered to breathe.
“Ah, good,” a familiar voice said nearby. “I was hoping the sudden jubilation was because you were awake again. How do you feel, Squithy?”
“I have a headache,” she said, opening her eyes to Dulsey’s face. “My leg—no, that was Ditsy!”
She sat up suddenly, and gasped when bruises protested.
“Susrim pushed me,” she said. “I have to go back right now! He’ll hurt them!”
Dulsey raised her hands.
“I have been in touch with Tranh, and he assures me that Mitsy and Ditsy are with Falmer and quite safe. Susrim is confined to quarters. Tranh particularly asked me to tell you that ship’s rules would be followed, and that Dulcimer is a regular ship. He has agreed that you will be traveling with me and the rest of the bold scouts until it is time to return.”
“But, I—I was going to be having another bold adventure,” Squithy said. “I was starting to get studied on piloting, and Klay—” She foundered, not exactly sure how she could explain Klay, and the practice they’d been planning.
“Klay sent a private message,” Dulsey said slowly. “I sent it to the comm in your quarters. How far along are you, on pilot study?”
Squithy felt her cheeks heat.
“Uncle Rusko got me set up with a dummy board and I had Level One loaded up to start. After we made the transfer, I had a couple hours to study before I had to back up Susrim at din—”
She stopped again and stared at Dulsey, seeing Susrim, how mad he’d been, and he’d pushed her hard—hard enough to hurt. And Tranh said ship’s rules would be followed. She felt the wrist-pat, and Oki’s presence inside her head.
She looked at Dulsey.
“That was bad, what Susrim did,” she said. “All of it. If Tranh’s gonna follow ship’s rules, Susrim—he could be expelled. From Dulcimer.”
“Then that is Susrim’s business,” Dulsey said, briskly. “Are you hungry?”
Squithy considered that. “Yes,” she admitted.
“And your headache?”
Squithy frowned. “A little less, I think.”
Dulsey glanced over Squithy’s shoulder, and she turned to see what was behind her. It was a status board of some kind; she frowned at the lights.
“This is a medical status board. The yellows here, here—and here—” She pointed to each—“suggest that your blood sugar is low, which sometimes causes headaches.” She smiled. “That means we should find you a snack before I take you to your quarters so you can clean up and get settled. There will be a crew meeting a little later, where you and the norbears will be introduced. We have the complete piloting study modules, and several dummy boards, so you’ll be able to continue your studies.”
Squithy bit her lip.
“I—might need help,” she said slowly.
Dulsey nodded.
“We all need help, from time to time. I’ll see who of the piloting crew wants to sit second for you on study time.”
Squithy smiled.
“You think of everything,” she said, but to her surprise Dulsey didn’t smile back.
“No,” she said, sounding grim. “I don’t.”
Senior crew had reviewed the vid. Senior crew was, truth said, feeling more than a little grim about what they’d seen. Just on the vid alone, it was clear what had to happen, but there was ship’s rules right there on the tablet in the middle of the table, so they could refer to what had to happen next, and not rely on their own heads, hot as they might presently be.
“Now we talk to such affected crew as we have access to,” Tranh said, after everybody’d gotten a refresh on their drinks. “Klay, you mind bringing the alt-crew up? You’ll have to interpret for Rusko and me, but I got a couple questions I’d like to put.”
“Yes, Captain,” Klay said, and brought two subdued members of the alt-crew to the galley, where they sat tall on their haunches, rumps touching, facing the senior crew with, Klay had to admit, a fair show of serious dignity.
“I want to know how it came about that they were in that sack,” Tranh said, and glanced at Klay. “Can you make that question clear to them?”
“No need,” Klay said, as his head started to fill with images. He braced himself for an onslaught, but this—this was an orderly progression, laid out as neat and as clear as piloting ’quation. He heard Rusko make a sort of humming noise when they hit a point, though from Tranh there was nothing at all.
The sequence ended, and Klay offered the image of quiet norbears sitting on the table, which was met with firm agreement.
Klay sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“They say Squithy told them to go to new quarters and settle in, which they did do. They had a little something to eat from supplies on hand, and curled up to dream together.”
Klay picked up his mug and drank some ’toot.
“They waked up when the door come open. That quick they knew it was Susrim—” He broke off to meet Tranh’s eyes. “They recognize us by our thought patterns, I’d guess you’d say. They can hear Susrim fine, even though he can’t hear them.”
Tranh blinked as the implications of that settled in, then he nodded.
“Good to know. What else do they say?”
“Well, they were startled out of a nice dream, and before they could gather themselves, there was the bag over them, and they were kicked in, none-too-gentle is what I’ve got, and then they were caught and being carried, jostling and not able to grab hold of anything, and they were afraid of the tone of Susrim’s thoughts. They could tell he was running toward Squithy, and figured she’d—intervene.”
He stopped again, and Rusko said, quiet-like, “Which she did.”
“Yeah, they’re—sorry. I’m getting that they want it on record that they should’ve helped, somehow, and been bolder, braver. It wasn’t never in their heads to get Squithy hurt.”
“Not their fault, I think,” Tranh said, bending a stern look on the pair of ’em. “Everybody on this ship needs to feel safe enough to sleep on their off-shift without worrying they’re gonna be snatched outta their bed and thrown off.”
He looked to Klay.
“They all right? Are they hurt from rough handling, is what I mean?”
Klay felt a twinge on his leg, and looked to Tranh.
“Ditsy’s got a bruised back leg, from when they hit the deck. It’s being sold as minor, which I think it is.”
“Right.” Tranh looked at the norbears again and nodded.
“Tell ’em if that bruise gets worse, to report it, and we’ll do what we can to make it right. That’s their duty. We need our crew whole and able. Tell ’em, too, that I thank ’em for being open with me, and I’m set on making Dulcimer safe for everybody ships on her.”
The norbears got that loud and clear, and Klay was able to convey their thanks for the opportunity to talk to the captain about the situation.
“Okay, there’s nothing else,” said Tranh. “Take ’em back to their quarters, please, Klay, and bring Falmer along when you come back.”
“How’s your knee?” Rusko asked, when Falmer’d come in and gotten settled across the table with a mug of ’toot to keep her company.
She blinked at Rusko. “My knee?”
“We watched the vid,” Rusko explained. “Didn’t look like you held back when you dropped Susrim. Want to be sure you didn’t bruise yourself.”
She blinked again, then grinned, halfway.
“My knee’s fine, thank you. I—prolly I shouldn’t’ve done it. Ma taught me, and she said I shouldn’t never do it to anybody I knew, but Susrim—” she took a deep breath.
“He was scary, just then. I was scared, and the two of ’em were scared, and all I was doing was remembering that beast where we found ’em. The one Klay killed.”
“You were effective and efficient,” Tranh said. “Like Rusko said, we watched the vid, but it left us with some questions. F’rinstance—why were you at the cargo door?”
“T’say honest, I’d hit a point in the study module where wasn’t none of nutrient load and balance getting through. Might as well’ve been pilot’s math. So I decided to go for a walk, clear my brain.”
She shook her head.
“Proof enough my brain needed clearing. I forgot all about how vee-six was gonna be busy with the tube transfer, and I walked right into a mess.”
“It was good you happened by,” Tranh told her. “Though I’m bound to tell you to pay closer attention, goin’ forward.”
“Will do,” Falmer said, and leaned forward a little. “We hear anything from Squith? She okay? We get a port ’change for her, or do we gotta do another tube?”
“Squithy’s staying with Dulsey for the foreseeable,” Tranh said. “She’ll be chief norbear wrangler.”
“Couldn’t do better,” Falmer said, “she’s real good with ’em. But if Susrim hit her or—”
“Some scrapes and bruises,” Rusko said gently, “but willing to accept an adventure is the last report we had.”
Falmer took a minute, sipped her ’toot, and finally nodded.
“Anything else?” she asked Tranh.
“There is. With Squithy off on a side-tour, and Susrim confined to quarters, we’re short. I’m gonna have to pull you into full chef duties, all meals. That’ll be a line adjustment, ’course.”
Klay thought Tranh’d added that to ease Falmer’s natural resistance to being pulled off her studies, but it looked to him like he coulda done without. Falmer grinned, wide and pleased.
“Now, wasn’t I just thinkin’ that I wanted to be back in the kitchen and trying out some of these notions I been studying! That’ll be just fine, Tranh. Thank you.”
“No problem. We’ll be wanting a meal in a while, but right now I’m going to ask you to return to quarters and stay ’til all’s clear. We need to talk to Susrim, now.”
“Expulsion?” Susrim sneered, slouched in his chair like he didn’t care about anything they’d said to him about the seriousness of his actions, and read him out the relevant parts of the ship rules. “You can’t throw me off this ship, Tranh. I’m a stakeholder.”
“That’s right,” Tranh said. “An’ you got a contract. Contract can be revoked, which I’m doin’ that now. You’ll find a copy of the document on your screen, signed by senior crew. Stakeholder can still be set off, for violation of rules, so long’s the stake’s paid over at the time of separation. We’ll be separating at Meldyne Station. You’ll get your pay then. I’ll send you an accountin’ before we dock.”
Susrim leaned forward, face set.
“You can’t do this, Tranh.”
“You’re wrong,” Tranh told him. “You’re confined to quarters ’til we dock at Meldyne. You’ll have your goods packed in good order and ready to be offloaded, along with yourself. That will be the ship’s first order of bidness on Meldyne.”
Susrim’s face was ashy.
“You can’t—” he began again, and stopped when Rusko shoved his chair back, noisily.
“Are we done here, Captain?” he asked.
Tranh nodded.
“We are.”
“Then I will escort Susrim to his quarters and make sure the door is locked,” Rusko said. He rose and went around the table to Susrim’s side.
“You can walk or I can drag you,” he said pleasantly. “And I can drag you, Susrim. Choose.”
Susrim stared up at him, looked like he thought he was going to say something—and thought better of it.
He rose and left the galley without a backward look.