To Honor You Call Us (26 page)

“Goldman, I have a difficult subject to discuss with you.  That discussion will proceed much more efficiently if you will be so good as to not insult my intelligence by telling me lies.”

“So, this isn’t to clear up an ambiguity in my medical history.”

“No, Goldman, it is not.”

“I see.”  Short pause.  “Oh, I
see.
  Green was hauled off to the Brig early this afternoon.  No one has seen Rhim in several hours—he’s probably in the Brig, too.  So, this must be about the stims.”

Sahin was impressed by the deduction and it must have shown on his face.  “Doctor, just because I went off on a crewman and got busted to Mid doesn’t mean I’m stupid, you know.  You don’t get assigned to Sensors unless you score very high in logical analysis in general and inductive reasoning in particular.  For all the good it has done me.”  He sighed, dejectedly.  “Stims.  I knew the damn things would catch up with me eventually.  In fact, it already happened.  They give me a temper, don’t you see, a bad one.  No way would I have reamed out that Spacer if I hadn’t been on the fucking things.  So, what are you going to do to me, bust me all the way to Mid Third?  Bring me up on charges?  Go ahead, I don’t care.  My career’s blown out the airlock now.  After the other day, I’m sure the Skipper’s already got a flamer in my jacket that, by itself, will sink any chance I have of ever making Lieutenant.  Now with a drug charge on my CDR the best I can hope for is to wind up at some rear area station checking fluid levels in the fecal sediment digestion tanks.  I’ve gone and fucked myself really good.  Just like I always do.  Story of my life.”

“Mister Goldman, I don’t think you understand this situation, very well.  In fact, I think you do not understand the situation at all.  First, in preparation for this meeting, I reviewed your complete personnel records, including your Comprehensive Disciplinary Record, and I found no ‘flamer’ from the Captain or from anyone else.  There is simply a Record of Disciplinary Action from Captain Robichaux stating that your handling of an error by an enlisted man was less than optimal and that he had
temporarily
reduced you in rank to give you an opportunity to learn better how to correct deficient performance by subordinates.  There are specific instructions in your jacket to restore your commission upon successful completion of the instructional units assigned to you and a certification from the XO that your attitude is satisfactory. 

“As for the drug issue, we are taking a somewhat unusual approach to dealing with that.”

Goldman was still stuck on the previous issue.  “You mean the skipper didn’t burn off three layers of my hull?”

“Not even one layer.  Goldman, you have not fully come to grips with the full meaning of the change in command on this vessel.  Captain Robichaux is nothing like Captain Oscar.  Captain Robichaux and the current senior officers on this vessel understand that you have suffered from incompetent leadership and cannot be held accountable for the consequences, at least not for all of them, at least not completely.  You must bear some responsibility of course, which is why he rebuked you verbally, why you were demoted, and why you are now performing some less than desirable duties.  But, you have been and will be afforded the opportunity to learn from the experience, to redeem yourself, and to regain, through hard work and sincere reformation, what you have lost. 

“It is the same with these stims.  You have committed some serious errors.  And, you have harmed your career.  You have set yourself back, but not irreparably, not permanently.  You are going through a period of hardship.  But, you have an opportunity to overcome that hardship and, given time, to leave it behind and go forward almost as though it did not happen.  You can start making amends right now by favoring me with an explanation of why you started taking stimulants.”

“Why do you think?  Why does anyone take stims?  It’s sure as hell not to feel good, like I’m taking the Chill or Floaters or something like that.  Stims make you feel like shit
all the time
, all nervous and jittery when you’re on them, sluggish and depressed when they wear off.  I take them the same reason everyone takes them,” he said with increasing sarcasm. 

Pausing, and then reconsidering his tone, he continued more reasonably.  “Have you ever stood a watch schedule?”  The doctor shook his head.  “No, I don’t suppose that you have.  You are on for four hours.  And then you are off, maybe for four, maybe for eight, maybe for twelve, then you are on again for four, and then you are off again.  And, four, or eight, or twelve hours later, you’re back on.  On and off.  On and off.  In three day cycles.  And, that’s not counting the dog watches—where you stand for two and then go off again.  There’s one day of the cycle where you will stand three watches: First Watch, from 20:00 to 00:00, Forenoon from 08:00 to 12:00, and Second Dog from 18:00 to 20:00.  That’s ten hours out of twenty-four.  One schedule for day one, one schedule for day two, one schedule for day three, and then it repeats.  Forever.  You are up working at all hours around the clock and have to try to sleep at all hours around the clock and it is never the same two days in a row.  Try staying alert when your body never, and I mean
never,
gets to settle into a regular schedule. 

“It’s not just the watches, either, I wasn’t just in command of the Sensor SSR for the Blue Watch, but of the entire unit, all three watches, so I had to set up the training schedule, supervise the work of all three watches, do quarterly evaluations on sixty men, write daily sensor contact reports, daily sensor array utilization reports, daily computer core access and utilization reports, daily reports on the performance of the equipment my men use, maintenance schedules, daily calibration reports and schedules, discipline reports, and every month Captain Oscar added a new kind of report or wanted an old report done more frequently because reading reports was how he kept track of what was going on around the ship and you can’t work on those when you are standing watch, oh no, because you are keeping an eye on twenty different stations all at once, so you’ve got to do it when you’re off duty, and that cuts into your time for sleeping and eating and taking a crap and everything else in a major way.  Sometimes coffee wasn’t enough, you know, so I started taking stims every now and then to get me over the hump.  At least, that’s how it started.”

“And you are under their influence at this moment, are you not?”  As if there was any question.  If the man were to write down what he was saying it would have all come out as one, long, run-on sentence.

“Yes.  I just came off watch.  I still stand watches as a Mid, plus attending class and doing homework.” 

“Goldman, we want to help you but we need something from you.  From what Green has told us, we estimate that you have between thirteen and seventeen Afterburner tablets—that’s what you call this kind of stim, isn’t it?  Afterburners?”  Goldman nodded.  “Between thirteen and seventeen of these in your possession.  We want you to turn them over to us.  All of them.  And wear a bio-monitor for thirty days so that we know you are staying clean.  In exchange, we will treat your withdrawal medically, give you support and counseling, and not impose any discipline on you for any drug-related conduct between when you joined the ship until the moment you turn the pills over to me.”

“What if I don’t go along?  You mean I don’t get treatment when I run out of pills?”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” Sahin said stiffly.  “I have taken a sacred oath as a Physician.  I would never withhold treatment from anyone who needed it.  Ever.  You will receive the appropriate treatment at the appropriate time irrespective of whether you cooperate with us.  But, I am given to understand that the Captain would discipline you for Possession of Dangerous Drugs, Consumption of Dangerous Drugs, and Reporting for Duty While Impaired or Under the Influence of Dangerous Drugs.  I am also given to understand that he would bring a separate count for possession of each tablet, for each time you took a tablet, and for each watch for which you reported while under the influence.  My estimate is that we would be contemplating at least three hundred counts, and more likely something like a thousand.  I shudder to think of how long your sentence would be upon conviction on all those charges.”

Goldman pondered that for a minute.  “Ohhhh, I see.  I get it now.  This isn’t about establishing discipline and proving to us that we can’t take drugs in defiance of the Captain’s wishes.  You have to understand, that’s what it would be about with Captain Oscar.  What
your
guy is trying to do is to restore combat effectiveness in the shortest possible time.  Right.  That’s got to be it.  You need everyone to turn in their pills now, so that you can get everyone through withdrawal or recovered from that slowing down thing you get with people on the Chill and back on duty ASAP.  Am I interpreting my readings correctly?”

“I’m not going to tell you that you are wrong.”  Doctor Sahin could not help but smile.  Even with his mind disordered by the stimulants, Goldman had analyzed the fragmentary evidence at his disposal and rapidly arrived upon the correct conclusion.  If he could break the shackles of drug dependency and his self-defeating attitudes, this man could become an exceptional officer.

“I sank a lot of money into those pills.  I’d be throwing away several hundred credits.”

“There are more important things than credits.  Do not think of this as a matter of throwing the money away.  Rather, I invite you to characterize it as, shall we say, tuition, the money one pays to receive a valuable education.” 

“There may be something to that, Doctor.”  He paused, considering.  The doctor didn’t rush him, as he knew that this man was weighing the alternatives using the best rational analysis he could bring to bear.  Sahin sat in silence.  He had seen this man’s mind at work and was confident of the outcome.  “OK.  Deal.  Oh, Doctor, as one person who evaluates data to another, kind of a professional courtesy, I want you to know that your estimate is off.”

“What do you mean?”

“In calculating the number of pills I have left, you made an erroneous assumption.  You assumed that I am taking the pills only to prop myself up near the end of a watch.  I’m also taking them to get myself going after a short sleep period, too.”  Sahin made a note to revise his calculations with regard to other stim users.  “I have ten tablets left, exactly.  Where do you want me to bring them?”  Sahin had no doubt that Goldman was telling him the truth.

“To me.  Personally.  Put them in my hand.  I will expect you back here in less than five minutes.  And if you take any of them before you come, I will know.”

“Five minutes.”  He paused and turned back to meet the doctor’s eyes.  Was that fear?  “Bones, I tried to stop taking them before.  It was pretty bad.”

Yes, it
was
fear.  While the doctor was reading Goldman’s eyes, Goldman was reading his.  For the first time he could remember, Goldman looked into the eyes of a superior officer and saw sympathy, understanding, and—of all things—kindness.  “Goldman, the entire staff of the Casualty Center will be here to help you through it.  I am here to help you, as well.  We will give you medication to ease your symptoms.  If they become severe, we will put you in the Casualty Center and someone will be watching over you every moment.  Remember, young man, you are in the Navy, and in the Navy you are never, ever alone.”

Chapter
12

05:17Z Hours 25 January 2315

“Verify destination.”  The XO could not hide the excitement in his voice.

“Destination is Alfa jump point in unnamed system, catalog designation Uniform Sierra Nebula Galaxy Sierra four dash one-one-niner-five dash one-four-eight-six dash five-nine-one-two dash four-one-zero-nine.  Coordinates as displayed.”  Even Stevenson’s reading of unexciting star catalog designations seemed to carry with it a hefty dollop of adrenalin. 

“Very well,” said the XO.

“One minute to jump,” Stevenson called out.

“Jump Officer, safe all systems for jump,” said Garcia.

“Safing.”  Around the CIC, console after console went dark, to static, or to flat gray. 

“I want the ship stealthed as soon as possible after we come out of the jump,” Max interjected into the routine.  The order was promptly acknowledged.

Everyone watched the jump clock.  Then the Jump Officer began the countdown, an almost holy ritual dating back even to before mankind’s first primitive rockets poked their noses beyond the edge of Earth’s atmosphere, all the way back to—of all things—a German
silent film
about a rocket launch into space.  Real rocket engineers supposedly worked with the film’s Director to help make his movie more realistic, and when that Director came up with the idea of building audience suspense by using a count down from ten to zero, the engineers gave the cinematic idea engineering application in their own test launches.  Art imitating life; life imitating art:  a tossed coin spinning in the air, front and back blurring together into a single image.  “Ten seconds.  Nine.  Eight.  Seven.  Six.  Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.  Jumping.” 

This time, no one retched.  That was always a bonus.  One man at Point Defense Systems was looking a little green, but he looked almost that green before the jump.  He was on the closely-held list of men who were going through withdrawal.  Five men, so far, had been taken off active duty:  three were in their quarters and two were in the Casualty Station.  The rest were standing their watches and doing their duty, with the help of a meticulous, individually designed medication regimen put together by Ibrahim Sahin, whose skills as a physician Max was beginning to suspect were nothing short of the Genius level.