“The ship damage from the dimension jump and retanking the air systems was worse than the pounding we just took, sir,” the XO pointed out. “Except for the casualties, we’re in better shape than we were at Sirius. We filled our fresh water tanks, took on a bunch of O2 and chilled down while we were submerged. There were benefits accrued to being dragged underwater. On a comestible level, well, we’re pretty good. Less use, among other things.”
“Commander, your tendency to look on the bright side can sometimes border on the annoying,” Spectre said, shaking his head. “Okay, I appreciate the input. I’m going to have to give this some thought. XO, ensure I’m not disturbed unless a giant space beast attempts to eat the ship. And I’m authorizing an issue of medicinal bourbon.”
The CO stood up and left the compartment, headed for his office.
“The term here, is ‘weight of command,’ ” Miller said, standing up. “Fortunately, I’m not the commander, so I’m going to go get at the head of the line.”
“Medicinal bourbon?” Dr. Beach asked.
“Every warship of sufficient size is issued enough bourbon for two issues per person on-board,” the XO said, standing up. “Little bottles like you get on planes. The CO is authorized to issue it if he feels the entire crew needs some tranquilization. Given that Dr. Chet has two trank cases in the sickbay and everyone’s looking a little rocky, I think it’s a justified order. Now I need to go carry it out.”
“I thought you were going to go get at the head of the line,” Weaver said, entering the mission specialist mess. Miller was sitting at one of the tables with a bulb of Coke in front of him.
“What, you think I didn’t bring my own?” Miller said, pulling a bottle of Aunt Jemima syrup out of a musset bag. “Grab a cup.
“Absent friends,” Miller said, lifting his cup.
“Absent friends,” Weaver said, downing the bourbon. “You’ve been hanging out with the Marines. I can’t believe they lost an entire platoon while we were under water.”
“I room with their first sergeant, note,” Miller said. “It is not sweetness and light in the Marine compartment right now. Apparently they were all going to get wiped out but one kid with an experimental gun stopped the charge.”
“Kid needs to get a medal,” Weaver said.
“Captain MacDonald has recommended him for the Silver Star,” Miller said. “It still doesn’t change the fact that we’re down some serious troops. And we’ve got the wrong guns, apparently. The Marines say that their Gatlings hit and bounced off those things.”
“What was the experimental gun?” Weaver asked.
“Believe it or not, a cut down Barrett,” the SEAL said, shaking his head. “The kid uses them as pistols. His nickname is Two-Gun.”
“I’m almost sorry I missed it,” Bill said as Miriam and Mimi walked into the compartment. “That would have been something to see.”
“Join us in some medicinal bourbon?” Miller asked. “It’s good to see you up and around, Miriam. How’s the edema?”
“Gone,” Miriam said, sitting down. “And I’m allergic to alcohol. But feel free. Most of my friends drink. I’m a great designated driver.”
“None for me, either,” Mimi said. “Not ready to try it, yet. I hear that the Marines…”
“Twelve dead,” Miller said.
“That’s terrible!” Miriam said. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry!”
“Nothing you could have done,” Miller replied. “Those things weren’t talking.”
“I can still be sorry,” Miriam said. “Is there anything we can do for them?”
“That’s a good question,” the SEAL said, frowning. “Honestly, you probably could. But I don’t know if you should. Right now, they’re going to be in the Marine mess, getting their issue of bourbon. There’s some empty seats…”
“And we could fill them?” Miriam asked. “I’ve done counseling before. But I’m not sure we’re allowed…”
“You’re allowed,” the SEAL said. “They’re not allowed in our area, not the reverse. But we shouldn’t go down there, yet. Not as shocky as they’re going to be. Give it… fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Okay,” Miriam said. “So a question: Why are we just sitting here?”
“The CO is trying to figure out if we should go home or stay out and finish the mission,” Bill replied.
“Go home,” Miriam said.
“Keep going,” Mimi replied almost simultaneously.
“We have people who are hurt,” Miriam said, frowning prettily. “They should be in a hospital.”
“Dr. Chet is very good and there’s nothing a hospital could do for them he isn’t,” Weaver pointed out.
“Better food,” Miller said. “No, scratch that. Worse food. Well, if you don’t mind three-bean salad.”
“I mind three-bean salad,” Weaver said. “But mostly because it should be outlawed on a submarine.”
“This is harder than we expected,” Miriam pointed out. “This is only the second planet we’ve found with life and we lost all those soldiers, and Dr. Dean. What if other planets are worse?”
“We didn’t really know what to expect,” Weaver said. “We’ve run into four alien species so far. Three of them were enemies. We’ve run into some weird space stuff, but that was to be expected. I thought it would be harder than it has been.”
“We haven’t run into magic, yet,” Miller said. “No giant floating heads in space, no godlike beings and nothing that’s trying to eat us in weird ways. Hell, we haven’t even run into another Boca Anomaly. Seems okay to me, so far. And, note, I probably spent more time with those Marines than any of you. I knew them by name. But they were here to keep the scientists and commanders from getting eaten and they did their jobs. The ship’s still working and we’ve got air, food and water. We’re good. What do you think, Mimi?”
“What’s the purpose of the mission?” the girl asked.
“Local area survey,” Weaver replied. “Get a look at the local area. Get a feel for how many viable planets there might be in the galaxy and especially in the local area. Keep an eye out for the Dreen.”
“That’s what the mission says we’re supposed to be doing,” Mimi said. “But what are we really doing?”
“I don’t follow you,” Miller said. “That’s the mission parameters, like Doc said.”
“We’re seeing how hard this is,” Miriam interjected.
“Exactly,” Mimi replied. “We’re out in space to find out how hard it is to be out in space. How long we can expect to stay out and survive. What we can expect to encounter in the way of space hazards and planetary hazards.”
“We’ve found that out,” Miriam pointed out. “It’s hard.”
“Not yet,” Mimi argued. “Because we can keep going. I’d say that if we turn back when we’re still capable of going on, we won’t know what the ship and the crew can handle. So far, we’ve handled everything we’ve run into.”
“Yeah, but you don’t test to destruction,” Miller said. “Not in this case, anyway. There’s only one ship. We don’t even have the theory for another one, unless I’m much mistaken. Doc?”
“He’s got a point,” Weaver admitted reluctantly. “We’d sure as hell better head back before we run into something we can’t handle. There ain’t any more ships on the drawing board if you know what I mean.”
“Ten Marines and a wake-up,” Miller said then snorted.
“What?” Miriam asked.
“I get it, but only because I’ve been in the Navy for a few years,” Weaver replied, smiling slightly at the grim joke. “When you’re about to get out, when you’re ‘short’ as they call it, you do a countdown. ‘Forty days and a wake-up and I’m a civilian, man!’ ”