ADMIRAL Lagemann met him at the main air lock into the occupied area aboard
“Oh? Discrepancies?” Geary asked, picking up on Lagemann’s joking tone of voice and trying himself to sound like certain self-important inspectors he had dealt with in the past.
“All ship systems are nonfunctional,” Lagemann explained cheerfully. “There is extensive unrepaired battle damage in most areas. The ship cannot move under her own power, and in fact has no power except for portable emergency systems. Most of the ship is uninhabitable and requires survival suits or combat armor for access. The crew is a tiny fraction of that necessary for safety, security, and operation. As you can tell, there’s no working gravity. And, um, the brightwork hasn’t been shined.”
“I can understand the rest,” Geary said with mock severity, “but unshined brightwork? Where are your priorities?”
“My priorities have always been misplaced,” Lagemann confessed. “I volunteered for duty on this ship when I could have stayed comfortable on
Geary finally smiled. “How are your crew holding up?”
“Could be worse. They volunteered, too, which I remind them of if the complaints get too loud.”
“What about the Marines, Major Dietz?” Geary asked.
The Major made a gesture of nonchalance. “They’ve been in worse places, and they all volunteered, too, Admiral. Of course, the Marines did that volunteering the day they joined, so we didn’t ask regarding this particular assignment.”
Admiral Lagemann and Major Dietz led Geary through the compartments occupied by the human sailors and Marines, everyone pulling themselves along through zero gravity by means of handholds either put into place by the Kicks or fastened on by humans since they had moved in here. Temporary cable runs carrying power, communications relays, and sensor data were strung everywhere, as were larger tubes that provided ventilation, heating, cooling, and recycling of the air inside this small part of
“Fortunately,” Lagemann replied, “it’s actually a little easier for us to get around without gravity. We can wriggle through some places up high that would be a pain to reach if we were walking. And the Kicks may be small, but this is a damned big ship. I’ve been on my share of human battleships and battle cruisers, including a Syndic battle cruiser that picked me up when I was captured by them. You know some passages on those seem to go on forever. But
The small group had paused at one of the temporary air locks leading into the rest of the ship. “How are you keeping an eye on things outside this area?” Geary asked.
“We’ve got sensors strung into some portions of the ship,” Lagemann replied. “For the rest, patrols.”
“That is,” Major Dietz continued, “security patrols that follow paths worked out by our systems to cover every compartment and passageway at least every few days. Some of the patrols take more than half a day.”
“How big are the patrol teams?”
“Full squads, plus one or two sailors. They do full safety and security scans.”
Geary felt his eyebrows rising in surprise. “That’s a lot of people for patrols of empty spaces. Has there been trouble?” One thing he had learned early on as a junior officer was that sailors could be counted on to seek out compartments where they could find privacy for various activities prohibited by rules and regulations. On most ships, compartments like that were hard to find, but on
Major Dietz and Admiral Lagemann exchanged glances. “There hasn’t been any problem with people wandering off on their own,” Lagemann explained. “Not after the first few days.”
“Why not? Even if people didn’t plan doing something they didn’t want to be caught at, I’d think there’d be an urge to explore.”