The Lost Fleet Beyond the Frontier Invincible

“The chiefs. The senior enlisted. Why the hell haven’t we asked them what they think this universal fixing substance is?”

“Because we’re both idiots. That’s the first place I should have asked.” Desjani tapped her internal comm controls. “This is the captain speaking. All chief petty officers are to muster in the chief’s mess immediately. Notify me when all are present.”

It took perhaps five minutes, then Desjani passed the question to her assembled senior enlisted corps. “Now we wait, Admiral.”

She had scarcely finished speaking when the image of Master Chief Gioninni appeared on the bridge. “Captain? You really want to know what universal fixing substance could refer to?”

“I take it you have an idea?” Desjani replied.

“Yes, Captain. As soon as you said it I looked at Senior Chief Tarrini and she looked at me and we both said ‘duct tape.’”

ELEVEN

“DUCT tape?” Desjani stared at Gioninni.

“Duct tape,” Gioninni repeated.

“Duct tape,” she told Geary.

“I heard.” Geary considered the idea, outrageous though it seemed. How could a race of expert engineers be impressed by something as simple and as ancient as duct tape? “What do the other chiefs think?”

“They agreed,” Gioninni said.

Geary called Captain Smythe, who had a frazzled expression as he answered for the third time. “Yes, Admiral? I’m afraid my staff has yet to produce any answer.”

“I’ve been given one, Captain Smythe. Do you think the answer could be duct tape?”

Smythe’s expression shifted comically as his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Oh, damn. Where— A chief figured it out. Right?”

“Right. Where could the aliens have been so impressed with duct tape? When could they have seen us use it?”

“Did your emissaries talking to them—No, wait. Have they been aboard any of our ships?”

“No,” Geary said.

“They were aboard that escape pod,” Gioninni suggested.

“Escape pod?” An instant later he remembered. “The damaged escape pod from Balestra. Two of them boarded it.”

“They did?” Smythe asked. “Is there a working record of that? That pod’s systems were pretty messed up as I recall.”

“There’s the record of a comm call I made to them,” Geary said, gesturing to Desjani, who turned back to point to her communications watch, who in turn frantically ran searches.

“Got it!” the watch-stander announced. “Coming up now.”

Another image popped into existence between the images of Gioninni and Smythe. Geary once again saw the interior of the damaged escape pod, Chief Madigan near the comm panel, the two spider-wolves sealed in their space armor at the air lock. “We can’t tell what they’re looking at,” Geary said.

“No,” Smythe agreed, “but we can see, and they could see, the sailors in that pod using duct tape. Patching the hull, repairing that panel, first aid on that injured sailor. Does it really work on sucking chest wounds?”

“Yes, sir,” Master Chief Gioninni said.

Desjani nodded. “Fixing electronics, fixing hull material, fixing human bodies. That’s pretty universal, I guess.”

“That’s why every escape pod has a couple of rolls of duct tape on it,” Master Chief Gioninni pointed out. “We’ve got to inventory the stuff on a monthly basis because otherwise people sneak into the pods and carry off the duct tape to sell it or use it on their ships.”

“Sell it?” Desjani asked, her expression as she looked at Gioninni turning dangerous.

“Not on this ship, Captain,” Gioninni said. “Some folks get that idea sometimes, but they always get shown the error of their ways by older and wiser heads. Selling the duct tape out of escape pods would be like selling . . . oh, the parachutes out of aerospace craft. If you need that stuff, you’re really going to need it, so we make sure no one messes with it.”

“Don’t we have duct tape as part of our standard supplies?” Desjani demanded, mollified but still a little suspicious.

“Sure, Captain, but you can never have too much duct tape.”

Geary heard laughter, then realized it was coming from him. “Humanity’s gift to the universe. Duct tape.”

“We wouldn’t have made it to the stars without duct tape, Admiral,” Gioninni said.

“We also wouldn’t have made it without chiefs.”

Gioninni grinned. “Yes, sir. Uh, if I may be so bold, Admiral, why did we need to know what these particular aliens call our duct tape?”

“They want it,” Desjani said.

The master chief stopped moving for just a moment, then nodded. “How badly do they want it, Captain? We might be able to work out a real nice deal.”

Geary tried not to smile back at the master chief. “Do you happen to know anyone who’s good at working out deals. Master Chief Gioninni?”

“I might have a little expertise in that particular area, Admiral,” Gioninni said with every appearance of modesty. “Not that I do much wheeling and dealing myself, you understand. But sometimes you have to work out swaps or trades, and if the other party really wants or needs whatever you have to trade, it can provide some very nice benefits.”