Chapter 17
“RILEY!” shouted Squirrel in rising annoyance.
“Yes? Oh, love of my life?” O'Riley replied with resignation.
“Where are those boxes? I need more boxes.”
The ship was in chaos. Anything that could be overturned was. They had been given exactly one hour to remove all personal items, subject to search, and vanish from sight. Squirrel ran to and fro trying to package everything she had accumulated into crates O’Riley was assembling as fast as he could in engineering. José was despondently packing what he could from the galley. The old man was, nominally, helping him. Only José would talk to him.
“Where is M’Elise?” snapped Squirrel.
“She’s in her cabin” said José.
“Well get her out here. We all need to help to get this done.” She glared at the old man and went back to her room.
José quietly went into M’Elise’s cabin. Her single duffel was full except for a single item: the jacket of her uniform. She sat there distractedly holding it, vacantly staring at her cut and bruised face.
José reached out and just barely touched her arm. Mechanically she folded it, placed it in the duffel and zipped it shut.
“It will be OK” said José awkwardly. “We will find something.”
“Yes” said M’Elise dispassionately. “I know that we will.” She hefted the duffel without wincing. “I will go and beg the Captain of the Rich Kingford for our berths back, plus an internship for Squirrel and a post for O’Riley. We’ll do the jobs we’re given, play by the rules, like we should have to start with.”
“But..” said José uncertainly. Then another thought occurred to him. “What about my son?”
“I dare say he can afford his own passage if he wants to ship out with the Rich Kingford.”
“OK,” said José. She returned to the galley.
Squirrel burst in radiating attitude, but stopped short seeing M’Elise’s face. “All set?” she asked awkwardly. M’Elise nodded shortly.
“I’m sure gonna miss that espresso machine” said the old man.
Squirrel glared at him, then back at the machine. “To hell with that. RILEY! Get that hand truck in here. We’re taking the espresso machine.”
They sat, scattered amongst the stacked crates of their worldly goods on a less busy corner of the dockside. M’Elise was slowly wiping layers of makeup from her face with a wet napkin José had filched from a service food counter.
Squirrel stared at a sheet of paper incredulously. “You did it! Oh my god. Seriously, I didn’t think you could wing it.” She held it up for O’Riley. “Look! I’m a communications intern on a cruise liner!”
He smiled supportively and held his own up. “Engineer, fourth class. I didn’t even know there was a fourth class. Probably sewage maintenance or something like.”
She laughed, still focused on her own joy. “It’s just good to do something that other people respect.”
O’Riley laughed. “Take it from someone who’s made a career out of being disreputable, the only respect you are going to get is from yourself.”
She sighed resignedly. “It would still help if I actually accomplished something.”
“Just living from day to day can be an accomplishment. What with stations blowing up, killer mood chocolate, and megalomaniac assassins. I’d say you’re doing pretty well.”
Squirrel smiled. “I thought we’d never get her off you.”
“That woman kisses like she’s strangling you. I’m scarred for life.”
“Oh, somehow, if you had to kiss someone to save your life, you would manage” Squirrel said coyly.
“I’m sure there will be plenty of ass kissing on this ship.”
“Better than having slimy men stick money in my underwear. Although I do miss the dancing. Maybe they have dace instruction on the cruise ship.”
“I think I’d keep your past profession our little secret. You’d never hear the end of it.”
“Good point. José!” José wandered over holding his napkins. “Don’t tell anyone I used to be an exotic dancer.” José looked confused.
“Stripper” translated O’Riley.
“Oh!” said José. “But everyone will like you.”
“Not in a way I want to be liked. OK? Just do it for me.”
“OK.”
She looked over at M’Elise who was just staring down the dockside form the last crate. “Is she going to be OK?”
José shrugged. “She misses her uniform.”
Squirrel looked at O’Riley. He shrugged too. “I haven’t seen her like this. She’s as tough as a hangover. She should bounce back. But sometimes a good beating can hit you deep. So I don’t know.”
“Maybe just a little chocolate…” mused Squirrel.
“She doesn’t like chocolate” said José.
“You saved some?” asked O’Riley.
“Of course. If it can make me kiss you, it’s got to be pretty potent. Should come in useful someday.”
“It made Miss Ninajatuli kiss me too” said José.
“We nearly had to throw you out the airlock with her,” said O’Riley.
“I’ve never seen a grease gun used so inventively,” said Squirrel.
O’Riley bowed. “If you guys don’t need my greasegunmanship guarding our precious cargo, I wouldn’t mind snapping up some duty free.”
“I’m not going to cover you just so you can go binge,” said Squirrel. “At least not without me.”
“No lass. It’s a religious devotion,” he said piously. “But beyond that, I want something to ingratiate myself with my new bunkmates.”
“We won’t be together?” said Squirrel.
José shook his head. “There are separate dormitories for each crew section.”
“Dormitory?” Squirrel looked alarmed. “Where will I put my stuff?” She looked around at the crates.
“We each get hold storage” said José. “If we put it together we can probably fit everything.”
“I can’t go running to the hold each time I want to change!”
“You’ll get a nice uniform” said José. “Two of them!”
Squirrel looked aghast. “If I were you,” said O’Riley. “I’d put the espresso machine into your dorm space.” He patted it amongst the pile. “That’s your key to ingratiating yourself with your bunkmates.”
She looked crestfallen. “I was hoping to do so with my effusive bubbly personality.”
“Sometimes we all need help,” said O’Riley.
A week later Squirrel, O’Riley and José clustered together for espresso in Squirrel’s dorm.
“Where’s M’Elise?” asked Squirrel.
“She’s sleeping” said José.
“She does that a lot” said Squirrel. “I haven’t seen her since we got on board.”
“I checked her work schedule,” said O’Riley. “She’s booked for two ten hour shifts three days in a row.”
“Seriously? That’s rough. What duty did you get?”
“Sewage,” said O’Riley. “Just as I thought. That and recycling sorting. No one else wants to touch it and I don’t mind.”
“Eeew. They only thing worse than rummaging through other people’s garbage is the thought of someone else rummaging through my garbage.”
“You find the odd interesting thing,” he held up a pearl drop earring.
“Hey! Someone reported that to lost and found,” said Squirrel.
“Is it valuable?” asked O’Riley.
“It’s pretty” said José.
“I’m sure it is. Give it here,” she snatched it from him.
“I was going to give it to you anyway. It’s not my color.”
“Do you work in lost and found?” asked José.
“The radio doesn’t work in transitional space. And apparently ‘communications’ also covers customer relations. Therefore, I get the help desk, complaints, lost and found, and whatever else that involve obnoxious passengers. I think I understand
where M’Elise gets her attitude about rich people from.”
“I miss her cynicism,” said O’Riley.
“I miss my own cabin,” said Squirrel.
“I miss my son,” said José.
Squirrel looked at him disapprovingly. “You do realize he is part of the reason we lost our ship.” José shook his head. “He’s a boss in the cooperative. It was all some stupid power place between him and his grandson over some sapphire we’re supposed to have.”
“I think he was trying to help,” said José.
“At least that’s behind us,” said O’Riley finishing his espresso.
“If only,” said Squirrel. They looked at her. “He’s on board.”
“Oh” said O’Riley. “You’re in complaints. I guess you know all about it.”
“Oddly, no,” she said. “He hasn’t been in once. I just saw his name on the manifest. His cabin is larger than my dorm.”
“I should say hello to him” said José.
“I’d just stay away from him,” said Squirrel. “He’s bad news.”
“But he is my son!” protested José.
“You’re preaching to the wrong choir here,” said O’Riley. “I never had any parents and hers took her daughter away from her. Don’t except sympathy for your sudden paternal feelings.”
José looked crestfallen. Squirrel seemed lost in studying the bottom of her cup. As the silence continued O’Riley shifted from foot to foot.
The awkward silence was broken by another crewman entering the room. “Hey! Junior most doesn’t get guest privileges,” she barked.
“Espresso?” offered Squirrel with false cheer.
“Oh. OK!” said the roommate, changing her tone.
“M’Elise” said José, gently touching her arm.
She came awake all at once, flailing her arms and covers around the place. “I’m on my way. I’m right there.”
“It’s OK,” he said, lifting up the fallen blanket over her. “You’re off duty.”
She grabbed the clock hanging nearby, looked at it blearily and rubbed her eyes. Bruises had faded to be replaced by bags. “What’s up?”
“We’re assigned to the Captain’s table tonight.”
“What? Is it broken?”
“I don’t think so. We’re going to meet the Captain. And eat food.”
“Dinner at the Captain’s table? Sweet Heimdal. How did we get chosen? I can trade that for some major shift changes.” She rubbed her eyes again.
“No, we have to go. My son asked for us.”
She drew back into her bunk. “That bastard can even wreck my sleep.”
“Please,” said José. “We’ll all be together again.”
She sighed and slumped down. “Whatever. Five more minutes of sleep, please.”
“OK.”
The formal dining room of the Rich Kingford was a site engineered to impress. Anyone familiar with the constraints of ship design would note the extravagant amount of space it occupied. Famous interior decorators from all of the Forty Worlds were brought in competition to design every last detail from the ruffled edges of the table runners to the scrollwork on the platinum flatware. But as the dinner chime sounded, and the waiting passengers were ushered in by exquisitely uniformed, but functionally invisible staff, all eyes were drawn to the ceiling as bulkhead doors opened revealing a view of the local system’s gas giant. Their course from transition point to the Aravaca highport made a close pass of the giant which Aravaca orbited. It wasn’t the most efficient or quickest choice, but none of the passengers complained at the sight.
Squirrel, O’Riley, José, and M’Elise stood along one wall, quiet and waiting, not mixing with the customers. Such were the rules for crew invited to dine with passengers. They wore their ship’s uniforms, with dress jackets, issued by the commissary shortly before dinner and expected back soon after, under pain of forfeiture of a large deposit. Squirrel twisted her hands in agitation, looking up and down the length of the room, torn between spying out the senior officers and keeping a lookout for the old man. O’Riley gazed over at the bar longingly while José beamed at anyone and everyone. M’Elise stared stoically at a spot just in front of her feet.
“By Saint Brogan,” swore O’Riley, “I’ve not seen so many blessed single malts in all my years of worship.”
“Can you see what the First Mate’s ordering?” asked Squirrel. “If we ever need to get into her good books it could be useful to know.”
O’Riley strained his eyes. “Some sort of blended shite. We could do her better than that. I know just the thing.”
Squirrel signed deeply. “Is that Lt. Oxyartes?” she asked M’Elise. Her eyes flicked up and she grunted almost inaudibly. Squirrel let out a low whistle. “I could bounce a talent off of … Oh my god! He’s looking this way!” José waved at the officer and before O’Riley could restrain him Oxyartes started over.
“As you were,” he said so the stiff attention they had all come to. “Relax so that the passengers relax.” They imperceptibly shifted from one foot to another. “I’m sorry to hear, José, of the loss of your ship. Quite the change, I’m sure.”
“It’s OK” said José. “I will find another.”
Oxyartes laughed. “Ever the optimist.” He looked at M’Elise, a little sadly, noting the uncharacteristic heavy makeup and inferring what it covered. “With M’Elise looking after you I’m sure you’ll find another command.”
“She is my best XO ever!” said José enthusiastically.
“Dress uniform suits you well, M’Elise. We should find more excuses to bring you out in parade dress.”
She mouthed a “Sir, Yes Sir,” but her throat was too dry for words to come out.
“I don’t believe I’ve met the new crew?” He asked leadingly.
M’Elise did not respond so José stepped forward. “The pretty lady is Squirrel, she’s a very good dancer.” They all shot him a warning shot as Oxyartes’ brow raised.
“I had wanted to ask if there was any position for teaching dance lessons to passengers,” said Squirrel quickly.
Oxyartes thought contemplatively, “It’s not something we’ve done before. But the dining room also doubles as a ballroom. I will check with line regulations and see what certs are required. If we could, it might upgrade our service rating.” He paused to make a note on a small datapad and nodded once.
O’Riley stepped forward “Wiley O’Riley at your service sir. Sewage Serviceman with no peer.” After it became clear his proffered had was not going to be accepted he turned it into a salute. “Serving as engineer 4th class on this fine vessel. Recyclable sorting my specialty.”
“Glad to have you onboard,” said Oxyartes. “If you excuse me,” he nodded and headed toward a knot of passengers. They collectively exhaled.
“He’s not so bad,” said Squirrel.
“Half of engineering seems petrified of him,” said O’Riley. “I’ve heard he applies the regs to the smallest sub clause.”
“Just your type,” said Squirrel to M’Elise. She didn’t respond.
“It’s Dad,” said José. The old man had just entered the room in a very formal, though slightly out of date, tuxedo. He saw them and started over to them, but then the second chime rang indicating that dinner was about to be served.