Two Space War Part 18

Once again, Melville and his officers stood by the quarterdeck rail, eating breakfast and discussing the day's activity. This morning, though, it was the lower quarterdeck. The crew of each deck worked hard to get their area in good shape for "company" on the morning when it was their turn to host meals. With a newly captured s.h.i.+p and so much to be done, getting truly s.h.i.+pshape wasn't possible, but the lower crew had done their best.

Everything was routine, or as routine as possible on a newly captured s.h.i.+p in time of war. The mark of a professional was the ability to quickly establish routines.

Lady Elphinstone reported that she'd released a few of the injured to serve as outpatients, and could make room for two 12-pounders. Brother Petreckski had little news to report, and was ready to begin schooling the new mids.h.i.+pmen. The carpenter was set to cut the gun ports and put the new guns in place. Lieutenant Broadax's men were ready to help the carpenter and the gunner with their task. The two rangers, as usual, said very little. They could be counted upon to be where they could help the most.

The sailing master reported that he was about finished with his rerigging of the s.h.i.+p, and was ready to tinker with putting "royals" in place. These sails, high up on the masts, above the topgallant sails, would be small but they would have tremendous leverage, and could contribute significantly to her speed. "Aye," said Hans, "we logged nigh onta eleven knots last time we 'eaved the log, an' I think 'at's about as good as we're gonna do, as she stands now. But I tell ya, sir, I ain't never seen such stout sticks on a s.h.i.+p. If we can put royals on 'er, an' maybe even a sprits'l-tops'l, we might squeeze twelve knots out of 'er!"

Twelve knots was a respectable speed; the old Kestrel could maintain fifteen knots when her sails, rigging and masts were in good shape. The Guldur probably never imagined that their s.h.i.+p could attain anywhere near their current eleven knots. That was what real sailors could do.

"Aye," said Hans as he and his monkey gave a synchronized spit overboard. "Ya know, the story 'as it, that royals was first proposed by King 'enry the Eighth, of old England, in the 1500s. The captains back in those days thought addin' a fourth sail high up on each mast was a silly idear, so they only put the sails up when they thought the king might be watchin'. So the sailors took to callin' 'em 'royal' sails! In the followin' years they became pop'lar. We know Captain Aubrey used 'em a lot, but ye seldom see 'em in two-s.p.a.ce. The point bein', they ain't nothin' new. No innervation, jist reintroducin' a fine old concept, seein' as how this s.h.i.+p'l bear it."

This was important, since new inventions went deeply against the fundamental philosophy and the ingrained technophobia of their culture and civilization. "Good," said Melville. "Then we're not really committing an innovation. If they were good enough for Captain Aubrey, they're good enough for me."

"Aye, Cap'n. Ya know I'm dead set agin progress. Progress jist means bad things happen faster."

"And," added Melville, "I think the s.h.i.+p will like it."

"Aye," said Tibbits, with a gleam in the old carpenter's eye. "She feels the speed, and she likes it. You can feel it in her bones. She's a young s.h.i.+p, a wolflin' s.h.i.+p, and she does like to go fast. If she wasn't happy with her lot before, she is now. I suspect those royals will tickle her pink."

Everyone grinned with pleasure at hearing this report from the carpenter. If the s.h.i.+p was happy, then everyone on her was happy. "A happy s.h.i.+p is a happy s.h.i.+p," as the saying went, "and a happy s.h.i.+p is your only right hard-fighting s.h.i.+p." It also cheered them up to see the old carpenter taking joy in life.

"Very good, my friends. Everything is progressing well, and I thank you for all your hard work. Now, have each of you thought about nominations to fill our empty mids.h.i.+pman slots? I'd like to have at least four more middies, and we'll begin a selection board this morning."

Each of his officers made a few suggestions from their sections, and they were directed to have the candidates stand by to report to the upper quarterdeck at one bell into the day watch.

"Mr. Fielder, I'd like to ask you to a.s.sist me with the board."

"Aye, sir," nodded the first mate. With twelve hours in his off watch he could perform this duty and still have plenty of sleep time. It was important to have the first mate agree on the middies.

"Brother Theo," Melville continued, "I'd like for you to serve on the board as well."

"Yes, sir." As the purser, he was one officer who wasn't too deeply involved in the ongoing work on their s.h.i.+p, so he could be pulled off other duties without too much difficulty. He was also the primary school teacher for the middies, and a very learned and respected officer.

"One last thing," Melville added as they began to break up. "I want to invite all the officers for dinner tomorrow evening in my cabin. I fear that McAndrews, my steward, has demonstrated himself to be an uninspired cook. Does anyone have someone they'd recommend as a chef? Whoever it is will have to try to find a way to prepare our Guldur provisions into a pleasant meal. A significant challenge for any cook, I dare say."

"Yes, Captain," answered Lady Elphinstone immediately. "My lob-lolly girl, Mrs. Vodi, is an excellent chef. She seems to excel at making exotic meals. The men in our hospital have certainly been enjoying what she has prepared."

"Excellent!" replied Melville. "Do you feel like you could release her from her duties for this task?"

Elphinstone nodded agreeably. "Yes Captain, I can."

"Good, please be so kind as to ask her to report to me at her earliest convenience."

The morning flew by as the mids.h.i.+pman's board selected four individuals to serve in the wardroom. Melville was pleased that he, Fielder, and Petreckski seemed to work well together, making their decisions with relative harmony. Between these three, no one could question the judgment of his promotions. A captain could make such selections by himself, but his decisions would ultimately have to be approved by the Admiralty. It was always best to follow proper procedures whenever there was time.

During the proceedings Melville also came to know his clerk, Archibald Hargis. He was a large, introverted man of great intellect. Hargis was a veteran of many such boards, and his a.s.sistance was of significant value. Throughout the process he seemed to be distant, dreamy, and not completely present. But the report that he produced was deemed first rate by all three board members.

In the end, they selected two s.h.i.+p's boys and two young crewmen to be promoted. The board was looking mostly for demonstrated bravery and brains. Not only did they interview the candidates, but they interviewed the petty officers who supervised the candidates, to see how each individual fought in the recent battle and how they performed their duties during the long months on the Kestrel. Given the raw ingredients of native courage and intelligence, plus a record that was clean of lying and theft, the navy could give a young mids.h.i.+pman everything he needed to be a suitable officer. Many such young men existed on every s.h.i.+p, but promotion opportunities such as this, "opportunities" created by the deaths of so many superior officers, were rare in peacetime.

One of the s.h.i.+p's boys and both of the crewmen came from the sailing master's crew. This wasn't unusual, since the brightest and most ambitious crewmen were usually drawn to prove themselves high up in the rigging. If a man didn't work out there he was quickly moved to another section.

One of the two crewmen they selected was Hezikiah Jubal, an able seaman and topman who served with distinction in Hans' party in the upper rigging during the boarding action. The other was Lao Tung, an ordinary seaman who had proven himself to be a ferocious fighter in the battle line. He was also remarkably well read.

The two s.h.i.+p's boys were Kande Ngobe and Ellis Palmer. Ngobe was a boy, second cla.s.s, and Palmer was a boy, first cla.s.s. Both of them had proven themselves to be quick-witted, with above average intelligence, and they endeared themselves to the hearts of the crew by scampering among their legs during the boarding action. Working down beside the dogs, they'd killed ticks, while hamstringing and "neutering" the curs with their razor-sharp knives. Palmer had been working for the sailing master. Ngobe had been a.s.signed to the s.h.i.+p's carpenter, where he showed great promise in his understanding of the s.h.i.+p and her inner workings.

Westerness was colonized by the men of Old Earth over four hundred years prior, in the Earth year 2210, almost a century after Mankind's first, disastrous entry into Flatland in 2119. The computers on board that first foray into two-s.p.a.ce brought back the Elder King's Gift, a devastating, two-dimensional virus that caused a complete and irrecoverable collapse of the world-wide Info-Net. Within two hundred years of its colonization, Westerness grew to become the dominant force in Mankind's activities in Flatland. By 2420, Westerness a.s.sumed control over the worlds of Man. For the last two centuries the Kingdom of Westerness ruled peacefully over the far-flung realm of Man.

The original colonizers of Westerness came from all corners of the Earth, but the majority of them hailed from Britain and North America. Over the centuries it became increasingly rare for anyone to carry distinctive racial characteristics. Thus Mr. Barlet's gunmetal black skin was fairly unusual, as was Lieutenant Archer's red beard. If Mids.h.i.+pman Ngobe was coffee colored, it was coffee with lots of cream, while Mids.h.i.+pman Tung had only faint traces of his oriental ancestry. What was important to the navy was not their appearance, or their ethnic background, but that they were brave and smart. With luck, brains, and lots of hard work these four young men might become commissioned officers in the Westerness Navy.

After the proceedings were closed, the board congratulated the new middies, and put them immediately to work. All of them would have four hours of schooling from Petreckski each morning, starting tomorrow. As the first mate, Fielder would also a.s.sign them on a rotating basis to the day and night s.h.i.+fts, with one mids.h.i.+pman a.s.signed to each quarterdeck at all times except for school. Formal recognition among the officers would occur tomorrow evening, at the captain's dinner. At Sunday afternoon formation they would be formally presented to the whole crew. For now there was little more than a handshake and a pat on the back, as they moved to a.s.sume their new duties.

After they completed the board proceedings Melville, Fielder and Petreckski stepped out onto the deck. Melville noticed Lady Elphinstone's lob-lolly girl waiting patiently. "Mrs. Vodi! Thank you for coming. I've been informed that you're a prime chef. The men of the sick bay all speak very highly of your efforts. They say you've done wonders with the stock of Guldur and Goblan food here on the s.h.i.+p. So I wonder if you'd do us the honor of preparing a meal for my officers and myself tomorrow evening."

Mrs. Vodi had left her spit cup behind to come speak with the captain, but she still kept a chaw in her cheek. "Yes, Captain. I'd be glad to."

"Good! I do sincerely thank you. My steward, and any other resources you may need, are at your disposal. Is there any other way that I can a.s.sist you?"

"Yes, Captain, there is. I need a Guldur to a.s.sist me. Right now I don't have a clue what I'm working with. I test all the food items on myself first, but some of it might actually be poisonous. A native guide would be very useful. I understand several of them can speak English, and I'd like your permission to release one to be my a.s.sistant."

"Of course. I'm on my way to our little brig to check up on the prisoners. Would you like to come with me?"

"Certainly, Captain."

"Good. Brother Theo, would you come with us? I understand that you speak their language?"

"Yes, sir," responded his purser. "But it really wasn't necessary for me to tap into my limited Guldish. I found a translator early on, and used my limited skills to be sure that he was translating faithfully. Their officers all died in battle and they've been very cooperative."

Down in the lower hold they found the Guldur, sitting disconsolately, truly hangdog in their appearance, guarded by two marines. Melville moved among them. At first he found his heart pounding as he remembered the battle and their despicable ambush of the Kestrel.

When first I saw you in the curious street

Like some platoon of soldier ghosts in gray,

My mad impulse was all to smite and slay,

To spit upon youa"tread you 'neath my feet.

Then he looked again, and the mental process he went through was one that might have been as old as warfare itself. It made him think of Lee's "German Prisoners."

But when I saw how each sad soul did greet

My gaze with no sign of defiant frown,

How from tired eyes looked spirits broken down,

How each face showed the pale flag of defeat,

And doubt, despair, and disillusionment,

And how were grievous wounds on many a head,

And on your garb red-faced was other red:

And how you stooped as men whose strength was spent,

I knew that we had suffered each other,

And could have grasped your hand and cried,

"My brother!"

Very quickly Vodi, with Petreckski's a.s.sistance, picked her a.s.sistant. He was a buff-colored Guldur who had been a purser's mate. He claimed to be familiar with the s.h.i.+p's comestibles, where they were stored, and how they should be prepared.

It was sad to see how eager they were to be selected for any duty that would take them away from their current, depressing conditions. All of them were willing to give their parole and serve as trustees among the s.h.i.+p's crew, apparently undisturbed by any sense of loyalty to their old masters. Their lives had been harsh, and they seemed truly doglike in their willingness to give their loyalty to anyone who would offer kindness, structure, and meaning to their lives.

Mrs. Vodi went to work exploring the foodstuffs that were stored all over the s.h.i.+p. She, the captain's steward, and their Guldur guide poked into every corner of the s.h.i.+p. Her usual entourage of cats kept their distance, looking with dismay and distrust at the Guldur. She was particularly intrigued by barrels of brains that were stored in a brine solution. "Well, Fido, what do we have here?"

"Rit's prig brains! Grrood struff!"

"Pig brains. Well, well, well, Rex. Combined with those nuts and that bottled green stuff we found, I do believe we'll treat the captain and his guests to thrice cooked javelina brain with crunchy pecan coating and sweet leek sauce. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof." She was happy to find such an excellent food source, but McAndrews didn't see it that way.

"You call that food? I wouldn't feed that to a hole in the ground!"

Vodi spat in her cup ("spputt") and eyed him at a cross angle: "Aye, that's food and some of the best at that."

"Rats right! Grroood strufff!"

McAndrews took a cautious step back. He was half convinced that the old woman must have been hit on the head in their recent battle, and was inclined to poison them all.

Vodi sneered, "You tell 'im, Spot." Stepping forward and leaning into McAndrews' face she continued with bravado. "When I set it on the board for you to feed to that noisy hole in your face, boy, I expect you to take the first bite because I said so, but the second, oh, I think the second bite you'll take on your own and with many a thought towards how much you can get before it disappears into the other holes seated around the table."

Their meal the next evening was a roaring success, a vital step in the process of bonding them all together as a team and establis.h.i.+ng a new routine in their new s.h.i.+p. The thrice cooked javelina brains were a resounding hit, and outside the dining room McAndrews did indeed vie with Vodi's Guldur a.s.sistant to sneak in bites whenever he could. Cats also kept slipping in, mewling for tidbits of whatever it was that smelled so good. They all competed with the ever-greedy s.h.i.+p's boys coming in and out on errands, grabbing bites at every opportunity and constantly being whacked by Vodi's wooden spoon. "This shur beets that dam' munky meet," muttered one as he snagged a morsel while ducking a swipe from Vodi.

At the head of the table Melville sat with his monkey on his shoulder. He was dressed, like all the sailors, in his blue jacket over a white cravat and white trousers. To his right, in the place of honor, was Lady Elphinstone, in her normal yellow gown with emeralds in her hair. By tradition that seat should have gone to the first mate, but a beautiful lady of n.o.ble lineage was gladly given precedence. Her grace and charm added much to the evening as their dinner wound its pleasant course. Across from her sat Fielder and his monkey. To her right was Archer, and across from him was Crater, both with monkeys perched on their shoulders. Their two brand-new lieutenants were uneasy with their new positions, but the natural goodwill and the freely flowing Guldur beer combined with their youthful cheer to make them good guests.

To Archer's right, and considerably lower even though she sat on a thick book, was Broadax. The last of their commissioned officers, she was a splash of bright marine scarlet that balanced out Elphinstone's yellow amidst the sea of navy blue. For once Broadax left behind the obligatory helmet and omnipresent cigar. Her monkey seemed slightly bewildered as it peered out from amidst the stiff locks that splayed out in disarray from her scalp. Across from her was Hans and his monkey, both with discreet chaws of tobacco in their cheeks. Although he had the least seniority among the warrant officers, his position as sailing master gave him traditional precedence among them.

Broadax and Hans were both uncomfortable at the beginning of their first formal dinner as commissioned officers. They were more accustomed to quaffing their drinks, which they firmly held to be a lot like drinking, except that you were allowed to spill more. But, like Archer and Crater, they too quickly adjusted and, much to their surprise, were able to enjoy themselves.