Hannah Sawyer (Kinsella Universe Book 3), page 19
“Aye, aye, Admiral!” Donna echoed Commander Ferris.
Admiral Kinney turned and walked out of the compartment.
Much later, Donna sat down next to Lieutenant Shapiro in the infirmary. “How are you, Lieutenant?”
“Busted shoulder, boss. Three or four weeks before I can start rehab, another three to six weeks for that. I’m toast, lieutenant, when we get to the exercise area.”
Donna nodded. “Probably. Would you like it sugar coated or would you like to remain in the dark?”
“Oh, sugar coat it, ma’am. Licking it off is half the fun.”
“You noticed we dropped from fan a few minutes ago?”
“Yes, and I noticed we launched a half dozen fighters, then promptly went back to fan, leaving them on their own.”
“That was Lieutenant Sawyer’s doing,” Donna told her. “Please, I know you have no reason to stand up and cheer what Hannah did to you, but I assure you, she had a reason. An important reason.”
“Like the reason she skips three meals out of four? The reason she spends more time than you or me in sims? The reason she has one of the highest flight hours in Rome? That reason? You don’t suppose, Lieutenant, that you are a total screw up as a commanding officer?”
“You were a lieutenant before the war started,” Donna said. “It’s coloring your judgment.”
Lynn Shapiro laughed. “Lieutenant, I was the same rank as I am now, before the war. I do my job and I try to do it well. I do not, however, do it as well as some others I could name. Your name could have been on that list, Lieutenant if you weren’t such a screw up. That said -- none of us are perfect. She’s your friend, I hear. Well, I’m telling you now, ma’am: Hannah Sawyer has a cute butt! She’s more than cute! She’s smart; she’s sexy! I figure to spend some time over the next few weeks, showing her the advantages of having someone feed her grapes in bed.”
Donna turned and went back to her office, shaking her head. People!
Commander Ferris stuck her head in the door, “Lieutenant Merriweather, Admiral Kinney would like to talk to you.” She turned and was gone as if her tail was on fire, which it probably was.
Lieutenant Zodiac met her in the corridor outside her office after she returned from meeting the admiral. The instant he saw Lieutenant Merriweather, he took two steps, and gripped her shipsuit. “Ya’s never liked me! I kin live with tha’! I kin! Even if ya’s tryin’ ta’s kill me! I kin liv’ wi’ it! I kin!
“You messed with Missy Hannah! You let her go alone!” He was, Donna thought, spitting froth.
“I didn’t know, Lieutenant,” Donna said in her most calming tone.
“Ya’s din’t know?” Lieutenant Zodiac rhapsodized lyrical after that.
“Ya’s told me three times she was fine, when I told ya’s she wasn’t eatin’ enough! Ya’s told me that the extry hours Hannah spent were okay, ‘cause we’s all spend’n ‘em! Hell and damnation woman! Hell and damnation! Ain’t none of us spendin’ half the extry hours Hannah does!
“You think I’m some dumb Ozark Marine, just off the farm! You think I missed our stop? You think I didn’t know four guys and two gals went down the rails, bye, see you later? A Fleet Captain among ‘em?
“Do ya think I’m stupit?”
Donna smiled at Zodiac. “My father, when Campbell’s World joined the Federation, took all sorts of exceptions to the Federation Standard Agreement. One thing he told me that he’d put in, as a secret aside, was that there would never be more than twenty Ozark Marines on Campbell’s at any one time. More than that, he said, constituted a danger to the realm.”
“One,” Zodiac said positively. “One of us is a danger. As I’m gonna show ya!”
“If you think you can possibly say or do anything to me that I haven’t said already or felt like doing myself, feel free. But I don’t think you have a prayer.
“You’ve met Admiral Kinney, haven’t you, Lieutenant Zodiac?”
“Seen, missy! I see her at meetings. Marines don’t go say how-do t’ admirals!”
“Yeah, well that’s too bad. She has a unique way of ripping people new assholes. She asks you what happened, then nods and sends you away to think about it on your own. I’m pretty sure that if you don’t get it right after that, she bounces you out the door. I’ve had my little chat with her, Lieutenant Zodiac. Commander Ferris has had a chat.
“Yes, you told me. Yes, I ignored you. Yes, I have the same excuse as Commander Ferris does: doesn’t everybody overdo it these days? Do you know what I’ve been assigned to do once Hannah gets out of the body shop? I’m to prepare a handwritten report on what she’s had to eat each and every day and how many duty hours she’s spent. I am to give that report to Commander Ferris who is to transcribe it into electronic format and forward it to Rome’s Executive Officer. Herself, personally.”
“Lieutenant, back home we call that ‘gettin’ the barn door shut after the critters are gone.’”
“I’m sure the Ozarks have a clever metaphor for everything. Why don’t you let me stew in my own juices for a while?”
For a second Donna wasn’t sure what he was going to do. As usual, he did the unexpected. “You better damn well remember this, Lieutenant! I’m going t’ have my eye on you! You screw up again and...” With that, he spun on his heel and walked rapidly away.
Donna sagged against the corridor bulkhead, feeling spent.
A few feet away, someone cleared his throat. She turned and saw Ernie Sanchez. He just looked at her steadily for some time.
“I’m sorry, Ernesto,” Donna finally said after several seconds.
He shook his head. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Donna. At one time, you know, I had some rather fond thoughts about you...”
Donna shrugged. “Ernie, in my head right now there’s a big box marked ‘Duty.’ Everything in my life right now takes place in that box. There’s a little tiny box marked ‘Personal’ there for after the war. My father and Campbell’s occupy a very big part of that box. There’s not much left over after that.”
“I figured that out a long time ago, Donna. I respect it, I really do. Which is why this is going to be easier than it might.”
“What is?”
“My official title is the Deputy Chief of Staff for Fighter Operations, Rome Fighter Wing. One of my tasks is monitoring crew readiness. I too suddenly find my job on the line because I haven’t been doing it. You will, Lieutenant, start to monitor the duty hours of all of your people, including techs and maintenance workers. This will never happen again, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I promise you it won’t.”
“Everybody else just gets a memo, but not you. I couldn’t deal with sending you something like that without seeing you in person, first.”
“I understand, Commander Sanchez.”
He quirked a smile. “I never had a chance, anyway. I could see it in your eyes from almost the first time I met you. I kept lying to myself.” He tossed her a salute, turned and walked away.
Donna Merriweather stood frozen, then shrugged. “Duty, huge. Personal small. Love life? Non-existent, Ernesto. And that’s the way it’s going to stay. My old man would just use it as another way to get at me,” she whispered to herself.
She pulled herself together. “It’s time, Lieutenant Merriweather, that you applied some of the sauce to your goose, before it’s cooked. Time to get some rack time.”
* * *
The ship’s doctor was firm with Hannah. “Seventy-two hours of bed rest, Lieutenant. Entertainment materials only. By bed rest, I mean just that. The first three days you will be permitted accompanied trips to the head and if you’re too shaky, I may change my mind and extend the seventy-two hours. The fourth day, you will walk with a nurse. Fifteen minutes in the morning, fifteen minutes in the afternoon. In the days after that, a longer stretch of walking.
“Once you are released, you will be on light duty for a week, Lieutenant. That means no more than two duty hours a day, for the next seven days, and not to include either flight or sim time. After that, you may resume normal duty hours. Admiral Kinney has already passed the word. Duty days may no longer extend for more than ten hours a day unless we are in combat, or it’s a scheduled and monitored exercise, with scheduled down time afterwards.
“The Exec has ordered me to report to him if you violate the new duty regulations. Most people would only be admonished for violations; he has made it quite clear to me that should you violate the regulations, you will be relieved of combat duties and reassigned to Port duties. When we get home, you’d be assigned to a base and it is unlikely you would ever see aloft duty again. Do I make myself very clear, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir.”
He left, leaving Hannah tired and drained. More than anything else, the thought of never going into space again, except as a passenger, hit home. She wanted to kill aliens, so that Gloria would have a company of honor with her, wherever she was.
Then, for the next three days her body made it quite clear that everyone had been right to be concerned. She was weak as a kitten, she had almost no stamina and her hands would start to tremble when she tried to do too much, even if it was to sit up in bed.
She forced herself to do as she was told. The one thing that was good, though, was that they couldn’t monitor her thoughts, and while she might not be able to do anything physically, it didn’t stop her from thinking about everything.
The first day they let her walk, she insisted on finding Lieutenant Shapiro.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Hannah told the older woman.
“Not to worry, Hannah. I’d been trying to get you to notice me for days.” She lifted her arm in a sling. “A small price to pay for success.”
Hannah frowned, not sure what the other woman meant.
Lieutenant Shapiro laughed at Hannah’s expression. “I’m from Barrio, Hannah. We have our own ways of doing things. Nine tenths of Barrio is covered with water, it’s always cloudy and rains a lot. Just about everything on the planet has teeth, right down to the algae. People from Barrio are noted for always carrying weapons and for being blunt. If something is sneaking up on your partner, you can’t afford to be wordy to let them know what’s going on.”
Hannah shook her head, not understanding.
Lieutenant Shapiro giggled. “Yep, I know. Let me be a little oblique, so I don’t scandalize my nurse. You have a very cute bottom, Hannah! Very cute!”
Hannah turned thirteen shades of red. Lieutenant Shapiro actually laughed. “Yep, I understand that, too! Just relax, let nature take care of it, Hannah! You’ll be in the best of hands!”
Hannah managed to stagger back to her bed, totally speechless.
Later she had a steady stream of visitors, right up until the doctor put a stop to it. She was pleased that no one mentioned what had happened when she’d lost it.
The next morning Lieutenant Shapiro appeared at her bedside, wearing a shipsuit instead of a hospital gown. “I’m getting out of here, although I’ll be back for therapy for the busted wing.”
Hannah swallowed, unsure what to say. “I’m not even sure I remember your first name right.”
“Lynn, Hannah. Like I said, I understand.”
“I don’t.”
Lynn shrugged. “I’m patient. Nothing’s going to happen, not until we’re headed back to the barn. I’ll probably have to transfer to another squadron, which will hurt, but it’ll be in a good cause.”
“Lieutenant, I don’t have any feelings for you or anyone else. None.”
She smiled at Hannah. “That’s what the patience is all about, Hannah! Not to worry.”
Hannah felt overwhelmed and uncertain. Gloria had been like this, she knew. Patient and determined. Lynn Shapiro wasn’t really very much like Gloria at all, except for the patience and determination.
“I’ll stop by this evening, Hannah. Do you need anything?”
Hannah shook her head, still unsure. It was all too sudden, and, unlike with Gloria, she felt empty inside.
Chapter 10
Hannah was sitting at her desk; she looked up from her comp when she heard a knock on the door. She was startled and immediately jumped to her feet when she saw who it was. “Admiral Kinney!”
The admiral chuckled. “Always nice to know that people remember who you are! How are you, Lieutenant?”
“I’m fine, Admiral. Food and bed rest have been very effective. I’m sorry I didn’t take better care of myself.”
“I know you’ve been told you weren’t the only one, Lieutenant. Please, put it to rest.”
“I’m sorry about Lieutenant Shapiro, too.”
Admiral Kinney’s eyes turned hard. “Hannah, a captain commanding a cruiser out on a survey mission who discovered what you discovered would have been fully justified in attempting to return to the Federation at a hundred percent of max-rated power and a mere one chance in ten of making it home without a fan failure. A two percent chance of never being seen again.
“Lieutenant Shapiro assures me she fully understands and feels no animosity towards you. Let it drop, Hannah. That’s an order!”
Hannah subsided.
“Now, something altogether different,” the admiral told her. “We have a number of battle sims. Before I detached her, Captain Bachman told me they were inadequate. Commanders Huygeens and Sanchez tell me that they are marginally adequate, even the ones they’ve created.
“Have you heard of David Zinder, Lieutenant? Or exercise Zinder One?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, Admiral. Neither of them.”
“Look them both up after I leave. Note the date of the exercise. It will be impossible not to note the results. Take particular note of the subsequent CVs of the people who planned it.
“Such an exercise would not do much to assist in our preparations for our deployment. However, I’m hoping it might jog your brain into generating one or two sim exercises to stretch our pilots. As David Zinder did, you are quite free, Lieutenant, to humiliate anyone on this vessel, including me, in such an exercise.”
“And my study group duties?”
“Remain. You will, however, devote fewer hours to them, Lieutenant. As you will devote fewer hours to your squadron duties. Of all the people aboard Rome, Hannah, I think you are the one most fully prepared. It would help if you prepared a few others half as well.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral.”
Admiral Kinney was gone almost at once.
Hannah thought about pretending it was a dream, but she knew in her heart that it hadn’t been.
Then she looked up David Zinder and Zinder One. She’d been aware of Fleet Command, a massive, multiplayer online game back on Earth. She hadn’t been aware that it was a potential recruiting ground for the Fleet, nor that it was played by nearly as many people on the Rim as played it on Earth. Once again she cursed her father who had told her it was a “child’s game.”
No, Fleet Command wasn’t “just” a game, nor was it aimed at children. True, players competed for points, but not all of the points came from blowing the bad guys out of the sky. In fact, after a certain point, command errors would negate any tactical or strategic success a participant accomplished.
David Zinder was six months younger than Hannah and by the time he’d returned to Earth, he was a lieutenant, the same as she. Except he’d done it months earlier than she had.
Bethany Booth, David Zinder’s co-commander, was as old as Hannah also, and she too had come home after the war commenced as a lieutenant.
And Zinder One? David Zinder and Bethany Booth had chosen the option and then planned it. They conducted a simulation of a massive surprise attack on a colonial planet, defended by nearly thirty ships. A few less than Zinder had at his disposal. Hannah read the notes and reports. It was, she thought, Gandalf all over again, except without Turbine Jensen, who’d pulled the four surviving ships together, counter-attacked and warned humanity of their danger.
No, David Zinder was the bad guy. All of the twenty-eight Fleet ships defending the planet had been destroyed, three planetary defense centers and the planet itself. A third of a billion people. A half dozen habitats died as well -- nearly three hundred and forty million people killed in one attack. And the exercise took place aboard a passenger liner mere weeks before the first real attack.
Like everyone in the Fleet who had reviewed Zinder One Hannah wished the exercise would have been fought months or years ago. Except it hadn’t. David Zinder had won his battle a lot more handily than the aliens had won at Gandalf and had gotten a lot of attention.
Then her mind turned to what she had been asked to do. At first, she thought that Admiral Kinney was simply incorrect. There were a lot of simulations that Operations had come up with. Simulations of Rome emerging into a system that was thought to be unoccupied, but was in fact occupied in force. There were sims where Rome was attacked in the cold dark, by a force that had followed returning fighters. There were a half dozen sims for attacks on an alien-held system.
What else was needed?
Well, for one thing, there were no sims about attacking an alien planet. There were exercises aimed at suppressing aloft defenses in such a system, yes. How were they going to do a planetary assault, anyway? No one had said a word about it, not in any planning meeting or briefing she’d attended. Was it something that had come up while she was sick?
She popped out of her chair and headed for Donna’s office to check.
Donna grinned at her. “I heard that Admiral Kinney came to see you.”
“Yes. She has changed my tasking, telling me to take time from both my squadron duties and study group duties for it. I’m supposed to work up some new sims.”
“Wonderful,” Donna said sarcastically. “The only saving grace is that you’re already about as well-prepared as can be achieved. Hopefully you’ll be able to spend enough time to maintain your edge.”
“Donna, I swear to you that nothing is more important to me than this squadron. There will never come a time when any job anyone gives me will take precedence over that.”
