Merkiaari Wars: 01 - Hard Duty (16 page)

James nodded. Swede certainly looked the part anyway. James acknowledged the others with a nod and received names and specialities in such profusion he had no chance to remember them all. He did associate certain faces to names, but not many. The man they called Whiz looked like one of his students back on Earth—a gawky kid name Andrew. Whiz was named for his ability to fix anything just by glaring at it. Then there was Pug—real name Edward Stockely. His nickname came from the state of his face, which was bruised and battered most of the time, and ugly all of the time. He liked to fight anything in a uniform different to his own. His nose had been broken so many times, the doctors had given up repairing it—hence the nickname.

O’Malley waved James forward and indicated a bunk near her and the board she was studying. He sat and glanced around. Dozens of eyes were on him. Some of the crewmen smiled or nodded, others looked speculative, many had been reading letters or books on their compads, but now they were watching him.

“Crew quarters,” O’Malley said absently and not looking up from the board.

James blinked. “What?”

“You were wondering what this place is.”

“I was. How did you know?”

“She’s psychic,” one of the others said and laughed.

The comradely feel here was strange to him. He was used to his colleagues fighting him for position and tenure, not laughing and trading friendly insults. Maybe he had missed something when he chose teaching instead of adventure in the navy—nah, too many rules to follow.

“Are you?” James said when they quieted.

“No, but I can see you’re pissed about something,” O’Malley said and moved her bishop to block a possible mate in three.

James could see a way around the trap Trish had laid. He smiled at O’Malley’s opponent, but he did not speak. Whiz frowned at the board obviously wondering what he was missing.

“Going to talk about it?” O’Malley asked.

James shrugged, why not? “My area isn’t really suited to the mission. To be honest, I’m feeling a bit left out.”

O’Malley snorted and all the crew shook their heads at him in disbelief. “Tell him Swede.”

“Yeah Swede, tell him,” they chorused.

“Tell me what?”

“Civs,” Swede said in disgust. “You know what we do when that sort of thing happens to one of us?”

James shook his head thinking that he should find out.

“I’ll tell you. The Chief gives him a job, or the Captain does if he’s an officer, and tells him to learn fast.”

Laughter and insults rained down on him, but James gave as good as he got. There were advantages to being a historian after all. He knew a lot of cuss words.

“It’s not that easy,” he said when his new friends quieted. “It takes years of study to become a xenobiologist or exobiologist or any of the other disciplines needed for the mission.”

“You’re a prof right?” O’Malley said and James nodded. “That makes you clever right?” James nodded again. “In Fleet, we work as a team. We don’t go out looking to be heroes and saving the day on our own. We leave that crap to the Marines.”

“You’re saying I should just join in and help out?”

“Course! Everyone needs a hand now and then, and besides, you might learn something in the process.”

Could she be right? He knew next to nothing about most of the things needed for the mission, and it would take longer than he had to learn, but what else did he have to do? Nothing.

James stood to leave. “Thanks guys. It’s been fun, but I’ve got work to do.” Before heading for the hatch, he leaned down to whisper into Whiz’s ear.

Whiz grinned and made his move. “Check and mate,” he said in glee and everyone howled in laughter.

“Hey!” O’Malley cried in outrage. “You cheated!”

Catcalls and more insults rained down from all sides as the others pounded Whiz on the back in congratulations.

“No way, he cheated! Jimmy told him the move I tell you. It’s not fair…”

The hatch slid shut on O’Malley’s cries of woe and James chuckled. With his hands in his pockets, he whistled a popular tune as he made his way to the briefing room. Captain Monroe had turned it over to the contact team for their studies.

He supposed this was a momentous time for the Alliance, but he knew the old saying with regard to living in exciting times and took its meaning to heart. So much could go wrong, but his colleagues—so busily collating the data they had been given access to—were the cream of the scientific community. Rawlins couldn’t have chosen a better team to ensure a smooth first contact. James knew he wasn’t in their league, or Brenda’s worse luck.

James strolled into the briefing room a short time later and watched his colleagues at their work. Linguistics would be critical to their efforts. He decided to have a word with Professor Singh who was the leading man in the area. Janice Bristow also took a keen interest in linguistics, but her main area of study was exobiology. She was too busy to help much, though James was sure she wished to. He crossed the room and stopped behind the busy man.

“Professor Singh?” he said softly, and Bindar looked away from his work to frown up at him. “May I have a moment of your time?”

Bindar hit the pause icon on his terminal and removed the earpiece he was using. “It’s good to see you, James. We’ve missed you around here. Where have you been?”

Bindar sounded genuinely pleased to see him, which made James feel like an idiot for not thinking of this sooner.

“Making friends with the crew. I was wondering if you needed any help?”

“Well…” Bindar said uncertainly. “This is an exhausting task, James, and ordinarily I would jump at the chance, but linguistics isn’t something you’re really familiar with.”

James smiled and sat next to the Professor so that he might explain. “Both of my areas aren’t needed Professor—”

“Call me Bindar. We’re friends, James.”

“Thank you, Bindar. As I was saying, my area of expertise isn’t required. I was rather at a loss for a while, but then someone advised me to help out with whatever the rest of you needed.”

Bindar’s face brightened. “That
is
a different matter. A lot of this is simply menial work at this early stage, any college student could do it...” Bindar’s face darkened in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you... ah anyway, what I’m doing is isolating and cataloguing the verbal exchanges
Canada
obtained for us. It’s painstaking work, and I must warn you, James, it’s rather boring.”

James grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll do that and you can begin the translation. Would that be agreeable to you?”

“
Agreeable?”
Bindar cried almost bouncing in his seat. “My dear
friend
, I would be eternally in your debt! We have so little time to learn what we need to contact our newest neighbours. Your sacrifice will help immeasurably!”

“I wouldn’t call it a sacrifice.”

“
I would,
” Bindar said forcefully. “You haven’t been listening to those awful recordings for weeks.”

James laughed and swapped places with Bindar so he could take over the terminal. Bindar sat and switched on another screen and brought to life his software. He had designed it to make the translation easier, but the database of known words was empty at present. He would begin filling it soon enough. When he was done, they would all start to learn how to speak the alien’s language.

James inserted an earpiece, but he didn’t start just yet. He went through the professor’s work studying and learning as he went. It was fascinating, and he soon saw the pattern Bindar was imposing on the chaos. Bindar had been listening to the recordings and picking out the individual words before cross matching them for context. For instance, he had a list of words always, or nearly always, spoken at the end of a sentence. He had tentatively labelled the set as phrases of leave taking; in English, a comparison might be good-bye, or see you soon. Other sets were labelled as nouns and adjectives, while still others were broken into groups such as words with a technical bent. Those came from ship to ship communications. The only column completely empty was labelled
Common Phrases
and James wondered why that was so, but Bindar was busy. He decided he knew enough to begin.

He keyed the terminal to resume, and winced at the yapping growl of Shan speech. He lowered the volume and began to make out what he was supposed to be listening for. The yaps and growls appeared to be some kind of emphasis placed on the words. He heard it at the termination of each sentence mostly, but certain words always had emphasis put on them. He reversed the recording and listened while reading
Canada’s
observations. He tried to associate the words with observed movements of the ships.

Ha! He had one already. He typed the word
Chakra
into the noun column. The Shan crew seemed to use the word a great deal. Perhaps it was the name of their Captain?

Interesting
…

* * *

Aboard ASN Invincible, uncharted space

Brenda watched James chatting with Bernhard and smiled secretly. A couple of weeks ago, James had wandered around doing nothing and feeling sorry for himself, but now everyone was clamouring for his help on their projects. Bindar was the first to see him as something other than a fifth and unneeded wheel, but he certainly hadn’t been the last. When he ran out of recordings to transcribe, James was swamped with requests for help on other projects to the point where he was the busiest among them. He was on his third project now. Brenda was determined to have him next.

“You should marry him,” Janice said in an offhand way as she paged through her printouts.

“Don’t start that again.”

Brenda was tired of Janice badgering her. Didn’t the woman ever let go? It had started with a mention of how good James was with Bindar, and then how nice his eyes were, and then how good he looked in uniform, and then back to his work. On, and on, and on, for two whole weeks. She just never gave up.

“If you won’t marry him, at least take him to bed.”

“
Janice,
” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“You’re attracted to him, and he to you, so what’s the problem? You don’t have to marry for life. Just keep him for a few years then trade him in.”

“Ha, ha. I’m not you, Janice.”

“Obviously. If you were, you wouldn’t be turning into an old maid.”

Brenda winced. Janice was only teasing, but it was too close to the mark for comfort. She was fifty years old—a third of her time gone already and she was still alone.

“I’m sorry,” Janice said with concern. “I didn’t mean it, you know that don’t you? I just want to see you happy, kiddo. Don’t live your life regretting what might have been.”

Brenda shrugged uncomfortably. “I have my work… we’re part of something huge here. I don’t need—”

“Crap,” Janice whispered crossly. “Hey, this is me, Janice remember? I taught you about boys and where to get them—remember? I
know
you, Brenda. I’ve seen you with other people’s kids. I’ve seen you standing alone watching them.”

“So I like kids. So what?”

“So you want some. I had mine early, so I could watch my great-great grandkids grow. If you don’t get off your duff and start breeding girl, you’re going to miss it all.”

“I could adopt, I could even have one implanted. I don’t need a man to make babies.”

“No, no, no. Don’t even go there.
I
don’t need a man to make babies, but you definitely do.” Janice looked her directly in the eyes. “
Definitely.
Besides, kids aren’t everything. A husband makes for a great bed warmer, and they’re fun at parties.”

Brenda grinned, but then looking at James she sobered. “He’s not interested.”

Janice sighed. “Again you fail to see. He’s the strong silent type—he’s shy.”

“Shy? The man is fifty-two years old!”

“So? Age doesn’t cure all ills, Brenda. Some people go through life without actually
living
it.”

Brenda flushed. That described her as much as it did James. When she didn’t answer, Janice shook her head again and went back to work. Brenda could almost hear her friend’s thoughts; they were so obvious. You just can’t help some people, Janice was thinking, and she was right. She was right about a lot of things. Brenda
was
lonely. Her career had been one long series of successes, and at the time it had seemed like all she wanted, but as the years rolled by, she was seeing things differently. What real difference did it make who discovered this thing or that, as long as someone discovered them? She had only one life to savour; she should be living it to the max.

She watched James preparing to leave. “I’ll see you later,” she said to Janice. Taking a firm hold upon herself, she met James at the hatch. “James?”

“Hey Brenda. What can I do for you?”

Take me to bed like Janice suggested?

“Take me to… dinner,” Brenda said lamely and cursed herself for not following through.

“Sure. How about tomorrow?”

“Why not now? It’s about that time.”