“So I don’t lose, is what you’re saying?” He laughed. “No, you’re actually the one with the upper hand.”
Graymard escorted her to another building, talking as they walked. “We’re assembling four-person crews right now, we call them ‘four-packs.’ It would be you and three men.” She hoped her knees wouldn’t buckle. “Three men? No one else, no other women to, eh, help out?”
“No.” He stopped and turned to face her. “Having second thoughts?”
She swallowed hard. “No. Let’s do this.” Holy crap. Three guys. It hadn’t quite slammed home until then.
She’d figured one, maybe two. Three guys?
Well, at least it wasn’t more. And she had wanted something different.
The converse was three guys who depended on her, and who wouldn’t be cheating on her.
Couldn’t cheat on her.
Maybe not such a bad deal after all.
The scanning center was filled with rows of dozens of units that looked like old-fashioned tanning beds without the lights, some of which were already occupied. After Emi gave blood and urine specimens and went through a physical, a technician hooked her up and made sure she was comfortable.
“This takes about two hours, feel free to doze off. We can adjust the temperature, any of that, just tell us.” He handed her a small cup of clear liquid. “Take this, it helps with the results.” She sniffed it, but it was odorless and colorless and tasted like water. “Doze off, huh?”
He smiled. “People usually do.”
Chapter Two
Emi looked up as someone shined a bright light into her eyes. It felt like she’d closed them for only a minute.
The brain scan technician smiled. “Did you have a nice nap?” He helped Emi sit up.
“I guess. How long have I been asleep?”
“A couple of hours. It’s better when you sleep, because the results are more accurate.”
“Oh. Okay.” He helped her stand and led her to a recovery room to make sure the sedative had completely worn off. Dr. Graymard walked in a few minutes later, smiling.
“Very good, Emi. Everything looks fine, the lab work came back with no issues. You’re eligible to move on to the next stage.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, if you’re still willing, we’ll introduce you to three crews. If any of them interest you, we’ll match you with them for further training.”
“Introduce how? I don’t want to get into space and realize they all stink in bed.” Somehow it didn’t feel real, talking about her future sex life like that. In fact, she still felt a little fuzzy, disconnected. Must be a residual effect of the sedative they gave her.
“Crew pairing is the toughest part of the process. You take as much time as you need¯within reason, of course¯with each crew.
The usual procedure is to go to their ship in dry dock and visit them, talk with them, and see if there’s any initial chemistry. A first meeting, then make an appointment to go back later for another visit if you wish to get to know them better. Feel free to do whatever you need to do to get to know them before making a decision.”
“By that you mean…”
He smiled. “It’s usually helpful for crew who have initial attraction to have a test run, as it were, in an intimate setting, to see if they are a match. It’s better to find that out sooner rather than later.”
“What if they don’t like me?”
“I sincerely doubt that will be an issue.”
Actually, the first step was inserting a compatibility chip. “The crews already have them,” Graymard explained. “This will make sure there is no force allowed. If you’re not assigned to a crew this time, yours will be deactivated until the next round of introductions.”
“Once I’m paired with a crew, what, we’re synced or something?”
“Correct.”
It was completely painless, the needle inserting the small capsule under the skin in the back of her neck. She never even felt the needle prick. “Sort of like microchipping an animal?”
“Similar theory. We can also track the crew, but only if the ship’s emergency beacon is activated. You’ll be synced to the ship and other crew members in that way, so there are no privacy concerns to worry about.”
It was already late afternoon as Graymard led her across the compound to the dry dock facility. The first ship was the Kendall Kant. Graymard gave her a small hand-held console.
“Here’s their information. Feel free to take notes, whatever. The other crews and their dry dock locations are also there.” There were approximately two dozen ships docked in the hangar, maybe a dozen of those with DSMC markings, the others from
Merchant Marines and the ISNC. He pointed to two other large ships.
“The Braynow Gaston and the Tamora Bight.”
“How long should I talk to these guys today?”
“As long or as little as you wish. Depends on whether any of them strike your fancy. If you don’t like any of these crews, we start over with a new set for you to consider. They’re all on board right now, just send them a notice requesting permission to board¯”
“Permission?” She arched her eyebrow.
“It’s an old holdover from the maritime days. Just a formality. The Kendall Kant is already expecting you. I sent them a message before we left the building. So whenever you want to go…” It was a hundred-yard walk to the main gangway leading to the hatch. Where they now stood, a short distance away was a construction table with chairs loosely gathered around.
“Can I sit for a minute and look through the info?”
“Of course. Did you want me to stay?” She shook her head. She was nervous enough. “No, that’s okay.” He handed her a small cell phone. “If you need me, my number’s programmed into it. Feel free to contact me twenty-four/seven. You can also message me through the hand-held. Good luck.” Emi watched him walk away before she sat and consulted the console.
According to the records, the Kendall Kant was a ship of a type called a medium-heavy, a mid-sized, deep space freight transport being converted for exploration work. Built for cargo, not speed. The crew were transfers from the ISNC¯Interstellar Naval Corps.
Ugh, military.
She called up the crew bios. Ooh, pictures.
Not bad looking, each of them with close-cropped hair, muscles, and unsmiling in their ID photos. The captain was a lifer, apparently, over fifteen years in the ISNC before switching to exploration. The crew had been together three years, with the first officer in the ISNC
for seven years, and the mate in for six. Highly decorated with many military honors amongst them.
The Braynow Gaston’s crew came from the other end of the spectrum¯geeks. All three crew members transferred over from the NSI¯National Science Institute. Not much in the way of deep space experience, with the captain just off a three-year training stint in the ISNC. The ship was also a medium-heavy, but of a slightly different configuration.
The three officers were also not bad-looking despite their serious expressions. Highly recommended in terms of their professional achievements and commendations.
So far, no ugly grunts.
The Tamora Bight’s crew looked to be an odd choice. The ship was called a full heavy, over a third larger than the other two and being retrofitted from military outpost cargo duties. The crew were Merchant Marine transfers but had worked together for twenty years, all of that spent on space duty and with quite a few commendations between them. Ironically the most experienced of the three crews, and the oldest crew in the running.