Polaris, page 4
"Shut it!" Traynor growled. Nater, having dispatched a lieutenant to sick bay, stepped over to stand beside Traynor. The huge Ganymedan's face was set in a grim frown, similar to the captain's.
"Lieutenant Nater, please describe, in your own words, the incident you witnessed here," Traynor said. To the two offenders he continued: "This is for my benefit. I am interested in knowing whether Lieutenant Nater witnessed exactly what I did." The lieutenant, a youngster probably no more than twenty-two, paled.
"When I entered the engine, room, Captain," Nater began, stressing the word "captain," "I witnessed a senior officer of the USRFC Polaris issue a direct order to two junior officers of that same ship. I witnessed the two previously mentioned junior officers not only disobeying the order, but laughing in their superior's face."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Nater." Traynor nodded to the Ganymedan. "Gentlemen," he began, addressing the two men before him. "That was the most disgusting display of insolence to a superior officer I have ever witnessed!"
"But Captain..." the youngster began.
"Lieutenant, for your own good, keep quiet," Nater said softly.
"Because every member of this crew is needed to get this ship into fighting shape, I am not going to bring you up before a military court on the charge of mutiny. However, .1 am putting both of you on report, which will entail a bit of extra duty. Also, because of your actions when dealing with the Major, I am requiring that you write an apology to Major LeMay, and present it to her personally. You will, of course, bring it to me and I will approve it before it goes to the Major. And," Traynor continued harshly, "If you are ever involved in something like this again, there will be no time wasted on-a trial! I'll drop you on Alpha Barnard with one air tank! Is that understood?" Both men knew of the airless world of Alpha Barnard. One air tank would last a man a day.
"Aye, sir!" they answered.
"Get to work!"
"Thank you, sir," the young lieutenant added. His partner turned quickly and began moving the barrel. The grateful youngster turned to help him.
The communication visiscreen beeped. Nater, nearest the console, stepped to it and flipped the switch. He motioned to the captain.
"Major De Gaulle, sir."
"Marc, did you get my message?"
"Got 'em, Alex," De Gaulle answered. His face smiled out from the screen. "LeMay showed up with the lieutenant you sent here. Gave her a tranquilizer and got her to rest in one of the wards. Just called to let you know."
"Good."
"She said she only came down because it was a direct order from you. She's scared to death, you're upset because she left her post while on duty."
"Tell her that she was officially off duty the minute I stepped into engineering, so she didn't desert her post and she shouldn't be worrying her pretty little head about it," Traynor said.
"She is a pretty one," De Gaulle smiled. "Out." Traynor laughed, punching the screen controls to contact security. Mark Carter's face appeared on the screen.
"Just to let you know that Hal Nater's with me and will be for most of his shift."
"Fine by me, sir. Nothing important in the works," Carter replied. "Anything else?"
"Not that I can think of," Traynor responded. "Out."
"Commander." Traynor called to a young woman on the upper deck as he turned from the screen. She came to the top of the connecting stairwell. "You're in charge here. I don't think you'll have any problems. Your lieutenants should be back any time now." Traynor exited the room, followed by the giant security officer. The new captain strode confidently down the corridor.
"Where to now, Captain?" Nater asked, his long legs easily matching the captain's strides.
"Why not sickbay," Traynor replied. He felt good. What could have been a major incident had been avoided, and the word, he knew, would be passed quickly. Soon both sides would know where he stood.
Smiling, Traynor swerved to a nearby elevator port. The automatic doors slid silently open and he Stepped in, Nater following. The small computer console accepted his deck coordinates and delivered the two men three doors down from sickbay. They entered the medical section and were greeted in the outer section by a bright young technician.
"De Gaulle still here?" Traynor asked.
"The Major's in his office," the girl replied.
"Which ward is Major LeMay in?"
"Ward 'A', sir," was the answer.
"Hal," Traynor turned to the Ganymedan. "Check on her. Make sure she knows everything's OK, then come on into De Gaulle's office. Don't worry about knocking."
The big fellow nodded and passed through the door marked Ward "A". Traynor knocked on the chief surgeon's door.
"Yo," De Gaulle called from within.
"Just me, Marc," Traynor said, opening the door. "Checking up on you."
"Come on in, Alex," De Gaulle stood behind his desk. Several stacks of papers littered it.
Traynor accepted the proffered seat. De Gaulle plopped back into his chair.
"Just trying to get caught up," he laughed. "It's almost impossible."
"How's it going down here?" Traynor asked, chuckling.
"Terrible," De Gaulle winced. "Papers coming out of my ears. Every time I get almost caught up, someone brings in another pile."
"I take it you've been busy," Traynor laughed.
"Busy! De Gaulle responded loudly. "Except for LeMay, all I've done is catch up on my predecessor's unfinished business."
"Seriously, though, have you had any problems?"
"Well," De Gaulle answered slowly. "I've only got four or five Earthers under me. They seem to be at the heart of the ship's problem, if you'll excuse me for speaking bluntly about the people of your home. The four techs aren't a factor, but the doctor, Jenkins, is a definite candidate for top pain in sickbay. In my brief contacts with him, I have given him three direct orders, and he questioned all three."
"Handle it?" Traynor asked, concerned.
"Yeah," De Gaulle laughed. "I ignored him. Gave several of the nurses the giggle. Seems Major Jenkins is not well liked down here, even by the other Earthers. Expected to be the new chief surgeon and has been throwing his weight around."
Nater opened the door and entered at that moment. "Forgot to tell you, Marc," Traynor laughed, seeing De Gaulle's wide eyes. The Chief Surgeon stared at the huge bulk of the blond giant. "I picked up a sidekick. Marc De Gaulle, Harold Nater, security." 4 "Major," Nater nodded, saluting. De Gaulle grinned, sticking his hand out as he rose.
"Marc, please," he laughed. "God, how tall are you?"
"Two hundred twenty-two point three-six centimeters," Nater replied, shaking the extended hand. "Tallest crewman on Polaris. By point three-six centimeters, no less!" He echoed the doctor's laugh. "And it's Hal." DeGaulle motioned him to a seat, where the Ganymedan settled his bulk, somewhat uncomfortably.
"I do have something I want to talk to you about," De Gaulle said, not looking up from the report he had begun working on. He quickly finished and slid the pile of papers to one side.
"OK, shoot," Traynor said.
"LeMay," De Gaulle began. He paused to gather the complete attention of his two listeners. "I don't know what's going on in engineering, but she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her nerves are shot. One more thing to set her off and she'll go over the edge."
"She's in bad shape, then?" Traynor asked.
"Not yet, but on the threshold," he replied. Then the surgeon grinned fiercely. "She won't go over if this pill-pusher can help it. I know how valuable she is.
"After I sent her to the ward, I went back over her PS file. Her name sounded familiar, and I discovered how important she is to this ship. You'll need her, Alex, to get this baby going."
"Well, you're the doctor," Traynor replied. "I think she's in capable hands."
"What can we laymen do for her?" Nater asked.
"She needs respect," De Gaulle answered. "She has a terrible inferiority complex. And before you say anything, Alex, it's not like the other inferiority complex we discussed."
"You can talk freely in front of Hal, Marc," Traynor said automatically.
"Very well. Hal, this goes no further than we three," De Gaulle stressed. Nater nodded. The doctor continued his comments to the captain. "Corensky's complex is subconsciously self-imposed. Those types, in their extreme cases, need psychiatric care to regain a better self-image.
"LeMay's case is different. Her complex was forced on her by outside entities. Deep down, in her subconscious if you will, she knows she is a fully competent engineer. However, someone, or several someones, have done their best to destroy her self-image.
"The good thing about LeMay's problem is that, even in extreme cases, if caught before the individual goes over the edge, a sensitive and understanding person can bring about a quick recovery, without actual psychiatric aid. Now, is that clear?"
"As mud," Traynor replied. De Gaulle picked up a pile of documents in a mock attempt at throwing them toward Traynor. "Really, doctor," Traynor laughed. "Is this how you carry out all your consultations?"
"I understand what you're saying," Traynor added quickly. "A little respect," he continued seriously.
"It's like that all over this ship!" the captain slammed his hand on the arm of the chair. "Outworlders tread softly while. Earthers walk confidently. Senior officers fear junior officers. My God, those two in engineering laughed in her face! Their direct superior, and they laugh! I should have thrown the book at them."
"I don't believe you'll have any problem with the younger fellow again," Nater quickly interjected. "I talked with one of the other engineers there while you were on the visiscreen. He was pressured by the older fellow."
Traynor nodded, agreeing. "I got that impression," he said, somewhat calmer. "Hal, since you've started talking, why don't we put you on a spot, and let you tell us what you know about our problem."
"WelI, sir," Nater began. "I'll start off by saying that several sections do not have any major problems. Communications, security, weapons, and landing craft maintenance. If you notice, there is one common denominator. All are commanded by outworlders.
"The problems lie in the sections commanded by Earthers. Sciences, navigation, engineering, pilots, and, of course, our executive officer. The senior officers are responsible for the major problems, either directly or indirectly. Corensky, Nelson, N'goto, Peters, and Spencer. Our previous captain and chief surgeon made it seven full-fledged members of the Earth First party. No matter what an outworlder did, either it was wrong, or one of the senior officers took credit for the action. Major LeMay is an extreme example, but every outworlder has felt the pressure. Some Earthers too. The ones that try to get along with us outworlders."
"OK, I'll buy that," Traynor said quietly. He thought for a moment, then continued. "What can I do to make up for this loss of faith?"
"Today's incident in engineering is a good start," Nater answered. "It'll travel quickly." He laughed. "Loose-lipped lieutenants."
"Ah yes," Traynor laughed. De Gaulle smiled also.
"To be a lieutenant again," De Gaulle said. "No responsibility. Just follow orders."
"I really believe you were a lieutenant," Traynor said sarcastically. "You were commissioned a major." De Gaulle shrugged his shoulders innocently.
"I can dream, can't I?" he replied.
"By the way, how is Major LeMay?" Traynor directed to Nater.
"Fine, just fine," answered the Ganymedan. "Said to thank you."
"Good. Hal, I'm in need of an executive assistant. Basically a gopher. Want it?"
"Why not?" Nater replied. "Be a change."
"Good. Your first job is to set up a new duty roster. Now that almost all the new personnel have checked in, run the names through the computer for a schedule," Traynor explained.
"I want certain people placed on certain shifts," Traynor added. "Put LeMay as engineer on my shift. Give her a crew of outworlders. It'll give her some confidence." Nater nodded.
"Don't put Corensky on Nelson's shift. Also, separate Spencer and Peters. Peters on Nelson's shift, Spencer on the third. Let's see, rotate command on the dead man's shift among the pilots. N'goto's on my shift."
"Can do, sir," Nater grinned. He rose and headed for the door. "No problem at all."
"Get Marshall to help you," Traynor added nonetheless. And inform Carter of your new assignment."
"Aye, sir," Nater replied. "Where can I find you?"
"In my cabin," Traynor smiled. "And my name is Alex. Calling me 'sir' makes me seem so old."
Myra Shanesey leaned her chair against the wall and sipped her drink quietly. The room was bustling with activity; people entering and leaving, coming off or going on duty. Everyone in the lounge carefully avoided the red-haired woman in the corner. She wore her don't-bother-me-or-else look.
Occupying her thoughts at the moment was her brief meeting with the new captain of the Polaris at the department heads' briefing. In the two days since the brief encounter, this very moment was the first chance she had been able to squeeze in to relax and try to understand the fleeting impressions she had observed at the conference.
"True he's an Earther," she thought, "but he isn't like one of the smug earth officers I've dealt with on Polaris before." The captain seemed to understand the outworlders to some extent. He hadn't been harsh or rude. And he cut -Nelson off more than once, and virtually reprimanded N'goto. Yet, he seemed to understand Peters's problem.
The young Ioan was brought quickly back to wakefulness by the sound of someone seating themself in the chair next to her. She looked up to see the bright, familiar face of Shawn O'Leery smiling back at her.
"Shawn O'Leery, if ye persist in scarin' me out of me wits, ye'll be knowin' what 'tis like to be treated in the medical section," Myra growled.
Laughing, O'Leery punched the selectometer at the center of the table. His drink floated from the master distributor on a Z-grav coaster. O'Leery removed the glass and the Z-grav field disappeared.
Shawn O'Leery, a loud, brash, young Irish-Ioan, was a veteran of Polaris, serving as an engineering officer with the rank of commander for over two standard years. Both he and Myra Shanesey had joined Polaris on the same day and, with their mutual origins and associations, had grown close in their time together.
"Sorry, me darlin'," he replied. "But I thought ye'd be wantin' to hear the news floatin' around the engine room." The girl nodded.
"The new captain, Traynor, was in engineering about the time a couple a boys wasna doin' what Erica ordered. Well, this new boy sent Erica to sickbay to rest, and cussed them boys up one side and down the other."
"It's about time, don't ye think?" asked Myra.
'Tis true, darlin', and what they deserved!"
The two Ioans sat quietly for a few moments, each with his or her own thoughts. Myra took a sip of her drink and broke the silence.
"I met this new captain."
"What do ye make of 'im?" O'Leery asked, contemplating his half-filled glass before putting it to his lips.
"I was just goin' over it in me mind when you so unceremoniously made your presence known," she replied, smiling softly. "He's different, Shawn. He's not like Captain Hawkins."
"How so?"
"Well, I don't know," she replied slowly. "I can't put me finger on it. He was all business at the meeting, but there was such a difference. So much more open.
"Oh, and there was one incident that happened. I made a comment about one of his orders to me."
"Ye'll never learn," O'Leery shook his head, a half smile playing on his lips.
"Shush, Shawn," Myrrh reprimanded the engineer. "Anyway, I said it softly, so's he wouldna hear it. But he does hear it. And ye know what he does? He winks at me!"
"Winks?" O'Leery laughed, disbelieving.
'Tis the truth, on me grandmother's grave," she replied quickly. "Now, if old Captain Hawkins had heard half of what I've said to him under me breath, I'd be in the brig for the rest of me natural life. And he just winks. I'll tell you, it caught me by surprise. Dron Svenson told me I turned a beautiful shade of red."
"That is different," O'Leery chuckled. "I would have loved to see that meself.
"Oh, I ran into Hal Nater," O'Leery continued, changing the subject. "The Captain made him an executive assistant."
"Well, la de da," Myra retorted.
A short, stocky creature waddled up to the table.
"And what are you so indignant about today, Myra Shanesey?" the little Pronethan asked, climbing slowly into a seat.
"Vlres, how are ye?" O'Leery roared, slapping the small creature on the back.
"I would be much better if you would cease that unpleasant habit you persistently continue," Vlres replied. "I do not find the pummeling of my back by your open hand very enjoyable."
"Vlres, Shawn, must ye men continue your personal disagreements in the company of others?" Myra scolded the two.
"Ah Myra, We've no real argument, right Vlres?"
"Much as I hate to agree with this barbarian, he is right," Vlres replied. "But what were you two talking about when I came up?" He took a sip from the drink he had brought to the table, a vile smelling concoction that Pronethans consider a delicacy, and stared at the young woman, if one who is without eyes can be said to stare.
"We were discussing the new captain," Myra answered. "He seems like a good sort, but he is an Earther."
"We must remember," Vlres offered. "All Earthers are not like Captain Hawkins and Colonel Nelson."
"The runt makes sense, Myra," O'Leery grinned. "And it's about time."
Carl Nelson sat at his desk. One light, on his desktop, gave the room a weird feel. Victoria Spencer, blonde and cold, sat silently opposite him.
It was Nelson that finally broke the silence.
"Damn those admirals! I was to have been given command of Polaris! Don recommended me in his reports when he was bumped upstairs! I just don't understand it!" Nelson slammed his fist down on the desk.
"Well, what do we do?" the woman asked. "Polaris was to have been one of the first Fleet ships to come under control of the Loyal Earth party."
"I don't know, Victoria," Nelson replied. "This Traynor could be a problem. He's an Earther, but he acts like an outworlder. Already he's become close with the Europan doctor."
