“Surely not! That would be—wouldn’t it be illegal?” Jen had put down her spoon and paled again.
“Yes. But if we’re all dead, we won’t be taking it to court.”
“You really think—?”
“I don’t know yet. But I don’t want to find out the hard way. I want to get us all back to Port Major alive and well.” That, after all, was her mission. Ky finished the rest of her stew. She felt pleasantly full, though she could have eaten more. She looked over at the other tables.
Gurton came over at once with two small bowls. “There’s a dessert,” Gurton said. “The custard didn’t set, but it tastes good.” A beige-colored thick liquid… Ky wondered what it was as they took the tray over to the others.
She dipped her spoon in it and took a cautious taste. “Sweet,” she said. “And creamy. I imagine it would set up if left in a cooler overnight.”
Jen tasted it. “Yes—it’s good. I hope they do it again, if there’s enough of the ingredients.”
“Inventory tomorrow,” Ky said. “Tomorrow we’ll start a new schedule.” She ate the rest of her near-liquid custard and took the bowl back to the serving counter. “A wonderful meal,” she said to the cooks.
“She knows more about cooking,” Kamat said. “I just did what she told me.”
“Good assistant,” Gurton said, smiling at Kamat. “Sir, if you’d like, I could do a lot of the cooking.”
“Let me talk with Master Sergeant Marek. We need to rotate duties so if one gets sick there’s not a gap, but good food’s important.”
“Yes, sir. It’s just that I did have training in both cooking and kitchen management.”
“That may seal your fate,” Ky said, grinning. “We’ll get you some help for cleanup, but count on cooking tomorrow—and we’ll need an inventory of supplies and equipment.”
Marek and the others stood as she approached his table. “At ease,” Ky said. “Master Sergeant, Specialist Gurton has volunteered to continue as cook. She’s trained, but she should have some help—an assistant, and also cleanup crew daily.”
“Yes, Admiral. I’ll assign them.”
“Tomorrow we’ll inventory the kitchen, the clothing stores, any other storage area we find. I’m sure there’s more to this facility.”
“Wake-up at 0600?”
“Yes. Inspection of quarters, then breakfast, then work details. You and I will need to talk about that. I rely on your judgment for balancing maintenance and exploration. Commander Bentik and I are returning to quarters for a planning session.” Senior NCOs preferred to be left alone to arrange work details, she knew. “I’d like your opinion on security issues; let’s meet at 2100 for a short conference.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
Ky collected Jen and headed back to their quarters. Her ’fresher was still running, not surprisingly. She picked up two clipboards, gave one to Jen, and settled into the chair behind the desk in her front room.
“Here are the issues I see as most urgent,” she said, jotting them down as she spoke. Jen seemed comfortable enough writing away, her gaze intent, as Ky talked about securing the facility from intrusion from outside, setting up a regular rotation of door guards, cleaning, cooking, and then exploration of the rest of the facility.
“I thought you might give everyone a day or two off,” Jen said when Ky ran down. “It’s been so hard—”
“Yes, it has,” Ky said. “That’s why we need to get back to a regular routine, something that feels normal instead of chaotic and just barely survivable. They’re tired now, of course, and I don’t expect full efficiency for the first days—from either of us, for that matter. But now that we’re in a safer place with adequate supplies, we need to recover mental and physical sharpness. If we can’t find any gym equipment down here, I’m sure Sergeant Cosper will have ideas—running up and down the ramps if nothing else.”
“I suppose,” Jen said.
“It’s just like being on the ship,” Ky said. “Routine is comforting and sustaining as well as productive. Remember what it was like?”
Jen scowled. “Of course I do. I know what’s right, Admiral.”
“I know you do, Jen, but I know you’re also tired, malnourished, and not your usual self. Give it a few days; you’ll see.” She waited; Jen said nothing, but the tight muscles in her face relaxed. “So let’s review the priorities. Do you see anything that looks out of order to you?”
Jen looked at her notes. “Well… I’d put searching for medical supplies one up on this list.”
Ky nodded. “I agree.”
“And you don’t mention enabling the weapons in the armory—what about that?”
“Once we found all the food, I was less concerned about hunting,” Ky said. “If there’s enough to last until next summer, we don’t need to. And in this weather, I don’t think anyone’s going to show up on the doorstep. Which I would like to get better secured.”
Jen nodded. “What about laundry—finding ’freshers for everyone’s clothes? Even with a roomful of new clothes, troops will need to clean them.”
“And not by hand in the kitchen sinks,” Ky said.
“Of course not!”
“Put that on the list. I wish I knew how much water is available—”
“Already on the list. High priority.”
The list was long enough to keep everyone busy for the first few tendays. “Jen, you’re off duty tonight. Get some sleep until wake-up; after this, we’ll share the night watch.”
“But Master Sergeant Marek can—”
“There should always be an officer available,” Ky said. “You never know what might happen.”
Jen nodded. “Good night, then, Admiral. See you in the morning.” She left; Ky heard her door close, then the inner door.
Ky wrote out orders for the next day, and at 2100 walked down the passage to the watch office. Marek and Betange were there. “Excuse me, Admiral,” Betange said, and left the office. Marek stood up. “Have a seat, Master Sergeant,” Ky said. “I’ve just roughed up some orders for tomorrow; this much should be doable, I believe.”
He looked them over. “Perfectly doable, Admiral. I’ll see to it. I have a watch rotation for tonight.” He handed it over.
Ky nodded approval. “Call me if you need me. Starting tomorrow night, Commander Bentik and I will share night watch, but I wanted her to get a full night’s sleep tonight.”
“You could do with that yourself, I imagine,” Marek said.
“I’m a light sleeper,” Ky said. “I may be up and down; don’t worry about it. Being down here out of the howling wind and cold is rest in itself.”
“That it is, Admiral,” he said.
She dozed off briefly at the desk in her office, then woke when the ’fresher beeped that it was finished. Her PPU and uniform looked somewhat better, but still had an odor. The ’fresher was cycling, its readout said. She laid the clothes over a chair in the front room, shut the door between the two, and lay down. The ’fresher beeped again when it was ready for another load, waking her again, this time from better sleep. Now it was 0345. She had her implant alarm set to wake her at 0530, well ahead of the others. Might as well put the clothes back in the ’fresher and hope it wouldn’t go off until it was time to get up. As she drifted off, she remembered that she hadn’t warned the others about com security. Tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When the general wake-up went off, Ky had showered and dressed, and the ’fresher had finished a second round of cleaning and cycling. Her uniform looked clean but worn, the fabric scuffed where her PPU had rubbed on knees and elbows. The PPU itself showed only minor damage outside, and on the inside no longer smelled of too many days of continuous use. She put the new clothes she’d worn the day before into the ’fresher and pinned her insignia to the shoulders of the utility jumpsuit. If it made Jen Bentik feel happier, it was worth looking as if she thought the Slotter Key personnel would fail to recognize her.