Time for Fun & No Hiding

Time for Fun

Month 8 Day 30

(Shore Leave Day 1)

0800 Hours

Jane Burke

“Attention all hands. The USS Fireball has docked with Port Station Gortia of the Ulseess system. All crew members are hereby relieved of duty for 2 weeks of shore leave, due to return by 1201 on day 17. Set your personal alarms, get out there and have fun!”

As the enthusiastic announcement faded away, Jane pulled her chief engineer to one side of the open docking ramp. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”

“I’m deep in the midst of the Yukosk transporter ray, captain. I’ll just stay here-“

“Did you even make any plans for this shore leave?” she demanded.

“I did,” he returned, his face turning a brilliant red. “I’ll simply cancel them and swallow the fees. I’m not worried about that.”

“Well, I am worried about the health and well-being of my chief engineer!” she returned. “This isn’t just a 2 or 3 day layover, Smitty. This is an all-out shore leave! There won’t even be a skeleton crew aboard! When I leave, this ship needs to be empty!”

“I’m aware of the protocols, captain. But I don’t mind being alone. I’ll be able to focus without interruptions.”

“Maybe. For about 12 hours,” she shot back. “Until you got hungry. Or thirsty. Have you forgotten that the only piece of this ship that will still function will be the maneuvering jets? Which have been slaved to the space station’s controls. Everything else will shut down. The lifts, the lights, the drink dispensers, the kitchen… all will be completely off. You’d starve before we got back.”

“I asked Ann- Uh, Chef Hamara to leave me some sandwich fixings…”

“And I told her not to! There’s a reason why we periodically get 2 weeks of shore leave, and I intend for all members of my crew to take advantage of it! The Yukosk machine will still be here 2 weeks from now, but the opportunity for R&R won’t! Now march yourself down that ramp and have fun!”

Smitty hesitated. “Ahhh… I haven’t packed, captain.”

“You’ve got 10 minutes to get your necessities! Or buy whatever you need on the planet! Get going!”

“Aye, captain.” He turned and started off, against the flow of people who had already started across the room and down the ramp.

Drake pulled out of that stream to join her. “Smitty tried to cancel his shore leave?”

“I thought I’d broken him of that,” she muttered. “Hope he doesn’t waste his entire 2 weeks stewing over the project I’m making him leave behind.”

“I hope he’s given serious thought to this shore leave,” Drake stated.

“What’s that mean?”

For a moment, Drake looked flustered, but he pulled himself together. “Occasionally, one faces something they thought would never happen. They need to find a way to get through it, whatever they decide.”

“Which tells me exactly nothing.”

Drake considered that. “One, it’s not my problem to tell you about, captain. And two, give him a chance. He might figure something out.”

Jane sighed. He’s not going to tell me anything. One of the problems of my rank. “Go. Have fun.”

Drake grinned. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He inserted himself into the flow and started down the ramp to the space station.

No Hiding

Month 8 Day 30

(Shore Leave Day 1)

0900 Hours

Bugalu

He was beginning to get impatient. A full hour since she got off shift, and she hasn’t come home yet. Where is she? Bugalu shifted his position on the couch and continued to wait. In less than a year, she’s gone from not believing she’d ever get any shore leave to refusing a full-length one. She was enthusiastic about making plans a month ago, so what’s happened? If Abdulla hadn’t managed to crack open that time-delayed message she found on her personal device, Mac would have been locked on an essentially dead ship. I imagine Mac sent us all a similar message, but the rest of us don’t have Abdulla’s hacking skills. His personal device beeped. He raised it toward his mouth. “Bugalu.”

“Have you found her?”

Hard to tell if the captain’s peeved. “Not yet. If she doesn’t come home soon, I’ll start hunting for her.”

The captain sighed. Definitely out of sorts. “If it comes to that, let me know. I’ll make a ship-wide announcement that might convince her to join the rest of us. In the meantime, there’s only 2 or 3 others who haven’t yet left.”

“Understood, captain.”

He broke the connection just as the door opened to the vaguely lighted hallway and a familiar shape came in. Mac didn’t seem concerned that the lights in her quarters didn’t come on, and by the time she reached her desk, the door closed, cutting off even that sparse light. After a moment: “Who turned off my computer?”

“The ship did,” Bugalu answered, and heard her chair clatter against the floor. “It’s just me.”

“I recognize your voice,” she snapped. “Computer, lights.” The room remained pitch black.

“Those are mostly off, too,” he told her. “Computer, emergency lights.” The room became discernible as a dim yellow glow began.

Mac picked up her chair and put it under her desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Abdulla broke the time-lock on your message canceling all those plans we made for shore leave.”

“Blast.”

“You really want to disappoint all your friends?”

“No, I… want to be alone,” she answered. “I want to work on my projects. And just… be alone.”

“Well, you can’t.” He got up and approached her. “I know tugs don’t get 2 week shore leaves, so maybe you’ve never been told. Once we attach to a port station, there’s no crew left aboard and everything shuts down. Even the emergency lights will go out in a couple hours, along with the lifts, drink machines, doors, food prep, computers-“

“Those appear to be off already.”

“Even life support. The ship’s so big, you’d have air, but it’d get chilly. Especially near the hull. And if you decided to leave, you couldn’t. She’d be locked up tight. Anyway, the captain won’t let any crew member stay aboard during full shore leave. So change your clothes. I promise we’ll find time for your projects when we get back.”

She sighed. “I don’t have any choice?”

“Nope.”

Her shoulders slumped and she turned for the still-dark bedroom. “Help me pack some things.”

He grabbed his duffel to follow. “Computer, emergency lights in the bedroom. Shut off lights in the living room.” He entered the bedroom to find Mac had already shed her uniform tunic, and was shoving her arms into a thick sweater. “Not that. You’ll be too hot.”

She turned to look at him, lowered her arms. “Where are we going?”

He grinned. “A botanical garden. It’s on the equator, so… pretty warm.”

She backed her arms out of the pullover and tossed the sweater to him. “Pack it, then. I don’t know what Yellow Dog has in mind.”

“Where’s your duffel?”

“In the closet.”

Bugalu poked his head into the closet, and took his time sweeping her uniforms aside to get the duffel off the floor. When he finally emerged, she had removed the rest of her uniform and was pushing her legs into a pair of slacks.

“Could you toss me the blue shirt with long sleeves? I’ll take the green and the red shirts. A couple slacks from my bottom drawer. Some underwear. I can buy whatever else I need. Like a hat. Sunlight doesn’t like my skin.”

Bugalu took the duffel and shirts to Della’s bed to start packing. “You mean your skin doesn’t like sunlight. I’ll buy the hat. One with a large brim. I know you wouldn’t go to a botanical garden except to humor me.”

“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, Bugs,” she said softly as 2 pair of slacks landed on Della’s bed. Mac’s bed creaked, and she was pulling on a pair of half-boots. As she stood, her hands released her hair from its constraints. She opened the top drawer of her dresser, tossed a handful of lace into the duffel and closed it up. “Okay, let’s go. Can I get some whiskey on the way to the botanical garden?”

Bugalu grabbed his own duffel. “Sure. Try not to get drunk on the elevator. You’ve got 2 weeks to drink.” The door opened to let them out. “Computer, lights off,” he instructed as they stepped into the quiet hallway.