Part 3 (2/2)
”That's not one I remember. But I'd remember only the largest ones and the ones who gave us trouble.”
”I am certain that our company would have been neither of those. It was in that broad medium tier of firms. We kept something between five and seven s.h.i.+ps running all the time, usually about half a dozen charters and the two with family members on board that were owned by the company.”
”Well, that wouldn't make it one of the big players, but that's still a pretty good-sized company. What kind of trading-” The comm panel beeped unexpectedly. Startled, Max flinched. He shot a quick glance at Dr. Sahin, who was studiously looking toward the porthole, as though making a point of not noticing Max's reaction, although Max was certain he had noticed. d.a.m.n. He hit the b.u.t.ton to open the comm circuit.
”Rob.i.+.c.haux.”
”Skipper, this is the XO. We've got a minor power deficit on the forward main deflectors. Brown says he'll get the problem licked within the hour, but until he does, I'd like to transfer some power from the rear deflectors. Regulations don't allow me to do that without approval of the CO.”
”Granted,” Max said at once. ”Let me know if there is any further problem.”
”Aye, sir.” Max closed the circuit.
”Where was I? Right. What did your folks do?”
”There wasn't any specialty, really. They stayed away from contraband and extremely bulky goods such as ore and grain, but on the whole they simply looked for items in one system that they could buy and sell for a profit in another. It really didn't matter what, although I remember carrying a lot of precision machine tools, gourmet olive oil, and fine art Pfelung gla.s.sware. The routes tended to be among the worlds of the Free Corridor and between the Free Corridor and the Union worlds in the Markeb and Tulloi sectors. Because my cousin and I were to take over the business when my father and his brother became too old to run it, we frequently went along so we could meet their business contacts.
”When the Tulloi sector fell to the Krag, my father, his brother, and their wives were all on board the two family s.h.i.+ps, along with most of the rest of my relatives, and were never heard from again. I was relieved that my younger sister and two brothers were attending secondary school on Tubek and were not harmed. Of course, Tubek fell a few years later and they are now lost as well. In any event, on many worlds in the Corridor I know people or-at least know people who know people-who are likely to be the people with whom the Krag are doing business. From them we might learn departure times, routes, and other information that will help you find these s.h.i.+ps in the immensity of s.p.a.ce.”
”Quite possibly.”
”Am I correct in my understanding that before our departure, this vessel was provided with a Piper-Grumman Shetland cla.s.s microfreighter?”
”It was. The Navy has done us proud too. She looks worn and banged up on the outside, but she's been retrofitted with naval specification engines and weapons that just might get you out of a tight corner or two.”
”I look forward to piloting her,” the doctor said with enthusiasm.
”Don't think so, Doctor. Able s.p.a.cer Second Fahad came aboard an hour before I did. His pilot a.s.sessment score is one-eighty-five on that s.h.i.+p and one-sixty overall. He looks enough like you to pa.s.s for a cousin at least. He'll be doing the piloting.”
”But I grew up on freighters. I can pilot the s.h.i.+p.”
”Sorry, Doctor, I've seen your piloting scores. They're barely high enough to let you at the helm of a Vespa-Martin Dragonfly in open s.p.a.ce in some of the more lenient systems. No way are they high enough for me to let you pilot a souped-up armed microfreighter in company with a rated wars.h.i.+p, much less land on her hangar deck. Hangar deck landings are a specialized skill, and you haven't had the training. I don't want you banging up our new freighter.”
”As you wish.”
”Have you had a chance to check out your equipment, stores, and personnel yet?”
”I have. That was the first thing I did when I reported on board around 03:00 in response to Admiral Hornmeyer's most exigent directive.”
”Exigent directive?”
”Indeed. I was wakened from a sound sleep at 02:10 or so by the admiral himself on voicecom. He told me, rather loudly, to get my lazy, overeducated a.s.s out of my bunk and said that if I wasn't on board the c.u.mberland in less than an hour, with my duffel ready for an extended cruise as her chief medical officer, he was going to play table tennis with my t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es.”
”Sounds like you were shanghaied, Doctor.”
”Indeed.”
”So, is everything satisfactory?”
”For a s.h.i.+p with a complement of 215 men and boys, I find the Casualty Station admirably well equipped and stocked. I have also met the personnel a.s.signed to me, and I find them to be reasonably well trained for their respective positions, although there appear to be some deficiencies in some specific areas of training-areas that I plan to remedy immediately. I also note that the morale appears to be rather poor. My understanding is that the previous chief medical officer was less than stellar.”
”He wasn't the only one,” Max said. ”What about your head nurse-what's his name?”
”Church. The admiral rea.s.signed him from the Nimitz, and he came aboard ten minutes before I did. When I got to the Casualty Station, he already had the secured pharmaceuticals locker open, an armed Marine sergeant standing by to guard the drugs, and was taking inventory with the pharmacist's mate witnessing and performing a cross-check. I am favorably impressed. I could not ask for better. There is only one thing more that one could wish for.”
”And that would be?”
”A female nurse.”
Max smiled. ”Yes, that would have its advantages.”
”I resent your implication, sir. There are distinct therapeutic advantages to having a female nurse on board, especially if she is attractive. In my experience, female nurses are more tender and sympathetic than the male ones, and injured men seem to be more willing to submit without resistance or complaint to embarra.s.sing and painful procedures administered by a female nurse. Resistance and opposition seem to disappear as if by magic in the presence of an attractive young woman. Whereas I might have to spend precious minutes, even hours, employing sophisticated reasoning and advanced psychological techniques to secure the patient's cooperation, a lovely young nurse need only bat her eyes at the recalcitrant, cantankerous old chief petty officer, and the thing is done.
”It also goes without saying that females are on the whole, by nature, more conscientious, more attentive to details, have better short-term memories, possess higher manual dexterity, and have a greater facility for understanding the speech of injured, infirm, or excited patients who may not be speaking clearly. They employ problem-solving techniques that are identifiably different from those employed by males. In short, they bring attributes to the table that are not present when one has an all-male medical staff.”
”Actually, Doctor, I was making no improper implication, and those are the kinds of advantages I was thinking of. You see, I first went to s.p.a.ce in 2295, only two weeks after the Gynophage attack, so when I joined my first s.h.i.+p, the San Jacinto, the crew was still about a third female.”
”But post-Gynophage...”
”Post-Gynophage, it's a different ballgame,” said Max.
A different ballgame didn't begin to describe it. The Gynophage was an incredibly deadly viral disease cooked up by the Krag and launched against the Union sometime in the 2285 or 2286. It was carried on board 217 highly stealthed compression drive drones programmed to reach 217 different planets throughout the Union within hours of each other on 12 August 2295, the fourteenth year of the war, and to dispense thousands of atmosphere entry vehicles that spread the virus in the air over population centers.
Although the virus almost instantly infected everyone it reached, most males experienced no symptoms. Women, on the other hand, were subject to excruciating Ebola-like liquefaction of their internal organs and death within hours of infection, at a rate of nearly 99 percent. Those few whom it did not kill, it rendered scarred, brain damaged, and sterile.
As if that were not bad enough, the disease spread rapidly from person to person by virtually every known means of disease transmission. As infected men fled affected planets on private s.p.a.cecraft, they spread the disease to the remaining Union worlds within days. Only a Herculean effort, involving practically every human medical researcher in the galaxy, costing more than 300 trillion credits, and tying up most of the interstellar communications bandwidth and computing power available to the human race, saved humanity from extinction. In only thirty-two days from day of the attack, the Gynophage Project developed a combination antibody serum and vaccine known as the Moro Treatment, after the head of the project, the brilliant Kenyan physician and medical researcher, Dr. Emeka Moro.
With more than half of the human females in the galaxy dead and the demographic future of humankind in doubt, the Navy withdrew almost all of its serving female personnel, most of whom were of childbearing age, to the Core Systems, effectively making the Navy an all-male force.
”It's certainly unfair to the women who might want to serve, but I don't see any way around it,” said Max. ”d.a.m.n shame. Maybe, once we've won this war, we can bring them back.”
”The Casualty Station will be a better place.”
”So will CIC. So, Doctor, if that's all-”
”Lieutenant Commander?”
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