Long View - Zelde M'Tana - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Impatient, Zelde waved a hand. "Parnell's, of course- same as if he had called it up to you." Frowning, she worded her lie. "Oh, h.e.l.l-I forgot. I was supposed to bring the sheet up."
Without expression Tzane punched the data in, then answered. "If you say so.
Zelde-"
"Yeah?"
"Be careful."
"Of what? Lera-something going on I don't know?"
The woman pushed back her hair. "Carlo's talking a lot. Says he's speaking for Dopples-which I doubt, but he 195.
does quote him, from back when Dopps was leaning on you. Pretends to talk for me, too-claims you're using Par-nell's authority to take mine." She opened one hand, palm up. "I'm not in this with Carlo, Zelde-I want you to know that."
From narrowed eyes, Zelde stared. "Maybe I should talk to him-get some straight answers."
Looking down, Tzane shook her head; the hair fell forward again. "So far, he's just hinting. If you challenge him, he can say you have a guilty conscience. I-here he comes now."
Zelde looked around and saw Mauragin come in. She thought his step paused; then he smiled and came ahead. "Zelde-Lera-sorry I'm late." He looked at the master chrono. "Not by much, though. What's new on the log?" He scanned it.
"Captain's instructions up to date now, I see. Did he punch them in himself, or call?"
Zelde looked at him until his grin stopped. "Sent them. All right?"
"Yes-sure-just asking." He turned away from Zelde. "Is everything else on the money, Lera?"
"Yes. You'll do your own full read, of course, before acknowledging acceptance."
He looked from one woman to the other. "Aren't we getting pretty formal here?
What's up?"
Angry, Zelde tried not to show it. "Just reminding you, coming in late and all, to do things proper. You mind?"
Now she'd alarmed him. "Wait-I didn't mean-"
"That's good." And before she could say more than she should, Zelde walked, fast- paced, out of the control room.
Heading downs.h.i.+p she pa.s.sed by the galley. Lera would go there-and right now, it wasn't Lera she wanted to talk with. She went to Turk's quarters and found Rooster Ho-gan there alone, listening to a music tape. She accepted his offer of a beer-self- service, here-and sat with him. When the tape was done, she told him about Mauragin."You heard any of this?"
Squinting one eye he took a sip of beer, then a larger swallow, and belched.
"Some, maybe-and so has Turk." His story had more details than Lera's- Mauragin's way was first to mention how hard Zelde worked, then cite 196.
anonymous complaints about her and defend against them weakly, not convincingly.
"Like what, he says?"
"Like you're such a young-a.s.s; younger'n him, even. And come up from cargo to captain's pet. All that idiot c.r.a.p." Shrug. "So folks come away-well, you know- worried, sort of." Zelde snorted; Rooster looked up. "What's that for?"
"For being fooled, me-I thought we got along. But I guess he still burns at being set back, and I got his place." Rooster's gla.s.s was empty; she filled it for him.
"Thankee. What do you figure on doing?"
Her gesture didn't go anyplace. "Don't know. What you say, he's kept it so's I'd be in the wrong to call him out."
"Too true, Zelde. He know.s you've got a temper-"
Her hand squeezed her gla.s.s. "And I got stubborns I never even used yet. Say I lean some, and Carlo flies off the handle-"
"And add fuel to his complaints? Not too wise, Zelde."
Scowling, she pointed a finger. "Hear it first. I been feeling sorry, leaning over backward, helping him look good. I just now quit." And she told how she'd handled him, being late.
"Thing is, Rooster, only jump him where there's witnesses, so he can't make up his own story. And stretch his temper."
Rooster's eyes widened. "And if he calls you out?"
She drained her beer. "Hadn't thought that far. He can't fight for moldy beans; I saw his qualification records. I could cut him too short to hang up!"
Rooster gave a startled laugh. Zelde waved a hand. "Thanks for the beer-and the talk." Out the door she went.
In Henty Monteil's workshop she found Turk, working by herself. "Hi, Zelde- what's going?" In a few words, Zelde told her. "Yes," Turk said, "I've heard things. Not much, though."
"Just keep a listen out, huh?" The other nodded, and Zelde looked at the workbench. "What you making? Some kind of big poster?"
Turk spread the sheet of plastic. About two meters by three, it draped off the bench to the deck, and spread a 197.
pace farther. Now, with most of the wrinkles smoothed out, Zelde saw what it was.
"Hey, our new insigne!" A stylized gamec.o.c.k in bright colors-and, all in big capitals, the word CHANTICLEER.
Turk nodded. "Somebody in the drive room made the design right after Escape.
Parnell okayed it when he was first up and around." So that's why Zelde hadn't seen it; they weren't so close, then. "But n.o.body got. around to do it for a while."
Stroking the place where a proud wing curved, Zelde said, "Sure. We couldn't mount it 'til after Terranova, anyway."
"Right-but now we can. I'll have it done this afternoon." And Turk knelt to apply color to an unfinished part.
Puzzled, Zelde said, "How do we put it on the s.h.i.+p, outside? I mean-there's the power suit-but the shoes, the traction magnets, don't work. And the airlock-that's a h.e.l.l of a ways to go on a safety line. Anyway-will that plastic hold up when we plow air, landing and lifting off?"
Turk laughed. "Last question first. Permanent electret, this sheet is-polarized, smooths on easy. Then spray on the sealer around the edges, and it's good for nearly forever." She set the color kit aside. "And the power suit isn't needed for this-or the main airlock. There's regular vacuum suits, too, you know-and an auxiliary airlock up near topside, for getting out to work on antenna systems if we had to." She frowned. "Rooster had better do this-he's used the suits, and the way things are now, I don't think you ought to work outside at all."
"Regular" vacuum suits-auxiliary airlock-Zelde felt like a new kid in a strange gang. And how much else don't I know, that I ought to? "Turk-how come you know these things and I don't? Maybe you belong wearing the Hat, 'stead of me."
The older woman put a hand on Zelde's shoulder. "Zelde-you've been busy learning your job, and doing it. Me, I've bounced from one job to another-first getting our bunch from the hold into s.h.i.+p's routine, then whatever else came up to do. So I've learned a little about things all over the s.h.i.+p, that you haven't had reason to meet with, yet. But you see-all you need to do, Zelde, is ask. Me, or anyone else."
198.
"Well, maybe. Anyway, thanks." She checked the time. "Hey, I've got to go. I'll tell Parnell the insigrie's ready."
"Do that. And-about Mauragin. He's building a gang, I think. But Rooster and I- from the hold, and in the lower ratings-we already have ours. And you can count on it."
Zelde swallowed; she gripped Turk's arm. "I hope you can count on me, too."
Before the other could reply, she was out the door.
In quarters she found Parnell awake, at his work desk with a cup of coffee. He looked up. "Tomorrow Fesler wants to read the portents in my entrails. Is this decided, or do I have a vote?"
She paused, gazing-his face showed pain, yes, but he seemed less doped than he had for days. She went to him- his arms, at least, had strength. "Ragir, you've said it yourself-what's dragging you down has got to be looked at And now we're on clear course for Fair Ball. Don't you think it's time?"
He kissed her-like old times, almost. "I suppose so. That's why I'm doing some work up ahead here-at best, after surgery, I won't be in working shape for a while."
"Anything I could do? Or help with?"
"I'm doing only the things you can't help with." He laughed-she heard, almost, the Parnell she wanted back again. "The rest of it I'm leaving to you and Lera.
How else?"
A pep pill, it had to be. But why? And then his hand, moving on her, gave the answer. And he said, "Whatever happens, when that well-meaning amateur scuffles my in-sides like a pack of cards-we have something coming to us first, you and I!"
So she gave him-at the same time sparing him-as much as she could. Oh-it was so like before, but never quite. Once, drowned in her own sensation, she forgot his weakness-then she remembered, and saw to it that he didn't fail.
Lying back, stroking his forehead, she said, "Parnell, love-"
"Yes. You did me right, Zelde-you did me right."
When Parnell slept, she called Fesler. "M'tana here. He's agreed to be operated tomorrow. You ready for it?"
199.
She heard his sigh. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Don't think worried-you can do it. Now, I've got the watch soon. You take charge, personally-that he gets fed right, and those vitamin shots you said about?"
"I've given him two today. You were out, both times." "Good-and thanks."
Maybe that accounted for him being better. She nodded. "Talk to you later, then. M'tana out."
Going into Control she watched to see how Carlo acted. As she scanned the log she looked sidelong at him; he seemed nervous. She pushed the recording b.u.t.ton. "All's well, Carlo?"
"You're early."
"That's right."
"Trying to show me something? Is that it?"
Was he this easy to bait? Zelde wasn't sure she wanted it that way. She c.o.c.ked her head and looked at him. "Like what?"
"Well-I was late for watch today."
She paused. ''I'd forgot."
He halfway stood, then sat back. "Had you?"
Zelde looked around-the whole duty watch was listening. She had her witnesses- and the tape running. All right-sink a hook! "Am I supposed to keep count the times you're late? That's for who you relieve, to log."
Now he did stand. "It hasn't been that often!"
"I didn't say it had." And when he didn't speak: "The log's all right. You're relieved."
He moved out of the command chair, but waved a hand at her. "Now wait a minute. You're saying-"
"I said the log's all right and you're relieved."
He'd been moving away from her; now he stopped. "M'tana-are you pus.h.i.+ng something at me?"
She sat; now she had to look up and back, to face him. Again she said, "Like what?"
He stood almost in fighter's crouch-hands moving, clenching and then opening again. All at once, he stopped. "What are you doing!"
She waited until he gave up and turned away. "Just my job, Carlo; that's all. Not anything else. You think you can maybe remember that?" Before he could answer, she added, "Because I think you'd better."
200.
He left without speaking. Turning back to her console, Zelde thought, Well, Mauragin-that's for starters.
Usually, in clear s.p.a.ce, the watch was dull. This time, just after the two-hour mark, the screen caught a blip. Zelde's monitor tech ran mag and tracking up to max, but the thing lasted only a few seconds. She looked at the man. "How do you read it?"
He shrugged. "Not big, not fast-planetary speeds, a little more. If it's a s.h.i.+p, it's dead and drifting. More likely a cold rock, a few billion years from where it started." He tapped keys on his computer access panel. "And by now, it's a million kilos behind us-and losing ground fast."
She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Charvel. That kind of numbers-time and distance- they take some getting used to."
This chunky man, she knew, had been a buddy of Carlo's. Watching the freckled face, under wiry red hair, she wondered if he was on Mauragin's side right now. No way to find out-she couldn't afford to get edgy about everybody. Paranoid, they called that. So she sat back for another hour, watching screens and instruments tell her not much of anything. And then, just as if she trusted him, she gave Charvel the watch for her coffee break. She did say out loud, with her tape running, what everybody usually took for granted-that he should put all incoming signal on relay to the galley. He looked up when she told him that, but didn't say anything.
In the galley she got some bread and cheese with her coffee, and sat at an empty table. In the whole place were only a few people, at two tables on the far side. She ate faster than she intended, and was sipping her second cup of coffee when Torra Defose approached. "All right if I join you?"
Zelde nodded. The woman set down her tray-soup, a sandwich, and coffee-and sat facing her. Zelde said, "How's the taping going, for Dopples?"
"All right." Eating as she talked, Defose said, "That's not what I'm here for." She looked around; no one was within listening distance. "You recall I asked about subversion on this s.h.i.+p?"
"You think back, you'll see I didn't lie to you."
The lean, Indian features creased in a smile. "I know. In 201.
making my decision to try to get on the Khan, I a.n.a.lyzed that interview. Using the truth to misdirect-it's a useful talent." Done eating, she wiped her fingers. "Now, though-do you know that you have a subversion problem yourself?"