Mac’s Challenge (Part 2)

Month 9 Day 11

Shore Leave Day 12

2031 Hours

Bugalu

Previously:

“Well, how many men did you-uh, were involved?” Bosilevac asked.

Mac frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure. When the drinking started, 4 men took turns buying me drinks, but others joined in. In time, I realized I was drinking several glasses while each of them only had one, and I insisted that we all drink the same amount. I think the bartender filled 11 or 12 glasses for that round. When the 4^th guy passed out, the others became impatient. And then aggressively insistent.”

“You were pretty drunk yourself,” Bugalu stated. Space, why did I say that? These guys will think they can outdrink her!

“Not really,” she answered. “When one of them said that after they’d bought me all those drinks, I owed them a good time… Well, I showed them quite a time, but I don’t think they considered it good.” She smiled at the memory, then let it fade. “One got a couple cracked ribs, but that was the worst of their injuries. Anyway, I made the decision to buy my own drinks. That’s why I seemed drunk, Bugsy. When you got there, I was finishing my first self-bought bottle.”

The owner of the Horsedrawn Carriage sold her a bottle even after the brawl broke out? I had a better opinion of him.

“It’s unfortunate you had such a terrible experience at that young age.” Winthrop’s words were saturated with oil, to make it easier for them to slip into her head. “A beautiful young woman like you-“

“Stuff it, Winthrop,” Smythe interrupted as he broke through the ring of people surrounding the contestants. He drug a chair behind him and turned his attention to a surprised doctor. “Detox me, Drake, I’m joining in.”

“You’re doing what?” MacGreg exclaimed.

“Someone has to keep an eye on Winthrop!” Smythe declared.

What does he think I’m here for?

“And Moor! So hurry it up! Get me de-toxed!

Shaking his head, MacGregor took a scan of the engineer’s blood alcohol, adjusted his inoculation gun and gave the man a shot.

“Thanks. Jones, Adams, make room for me.”

Bugalu glanced at Mac. She sat unmoving, staring at her supervisor, her face completely white except for bright red splotches on her cheeks.

I’m not even sure she’s breathing. Can’t tell what she thinks about this development.

Smythe sat as the other men adjusted their positions by an inch or 2. He glanced around the table, at everyone but Mac. “Could you state the rules again? I’m not sure I caught them all.”

“Sure,” Mac agreed, but then remained silent. After a moment, Yellow Dog elbowed the redhead in the side, hard enough that Mac fell against Tall Bear’s shoulder. “Ouch!”

MacGregor sighed and ran his med scanner over the woman’s side. “Yeah, you’re bruising,” he stated, and looked up at the still-waiting server. “Could we get an ice pack?”

“Let me find one,” the server responded, looking surprised, and headed for the kitchen.

“What was that for?” Mac asked her bronze friend.

But it was Tall Bear who answered. “You need to explain the rules. All of them. Make sure they all understand them.”

She whispered, “I haven’t done that yet?”

TB shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Mac frowned, winced as she climbed to her feet. “These are the rules. We will all drink the same liquor, at the same time; a shot every 5 minutes. If you take longer than 15 seconds to drink your shot, you are disqualified. If you pass out, you are disqualified and Bugalu will make arrangements for you to be returned to your temporary quarters. Each contestant will pay for a full bottle at the beginning of the contest. Those who are still participating when we reach the end of those bottles will, again, each pay for a full bottle so the contest can continue. The last person to remain conscious after drinking 1 more shot than anybody else will receive all remaining bottles as the prize. Any questions?”

“I think you’ve forgotten something,” Moor suggested. “Surely the last man left conscious wins the pleasure of your company for the night.”

Mac stared at him, her brow tense with confusion. “No.”

“But that’s the way this is done!” Adams declared.

“It’s not how I play. Each of you has offered to buy me a drink.” She glanced at Smythe, and quickly pulled her gaze away again. “Most of you,” she muttered and cleared her throat. “What you meant – I’m smart enough to realize it – is you wanted to get me so drunk you could ‘have the pleasure of my company for the night.’ I’m not stupid enough to agree to that. These are my rules. We drink until only 1 person is still conscious, and that person’s prize is the rest of the booze. That’s it. If you don’t like the rules, then leave, but if you leave, give up all thoughts of ever suggesting drinks, a date or sex. In fact, even if you stay, give up those thoughts.”

“But if I win, you will – eventually – go out with me?” Moor asked.

She gave another flash glance at Smythe. “No.”

“Then why are we here?” Evans demanded angrily.

Mac placed her fingertips on the tabletop and leaned forward to spear him with her green gaze. “You are here because you think you can drink me under the table. I am here to prove you can’t. That’s it. Nothing more. Have I made myself clear?”

“It hardly seems worth it,” Evans returned.

“Then leave,” she suggested. “You’re the one who keeps suggesting we have drinks. Suddenly, you don’t want to. Fine. But this is the only time I will agree to drink with you.”

Scowling, Evans settled back in his chair.

“Can I join?” Bosilevek asked, pulling a chair forward.

Surprised, Mac straightened up. “I thought I made myself clear long ago.”

“You did,” the technician agreed, forcing his way between Evans and Adams. “Anyway, I’m a real light weight when it comes to drinking. I’ll just have a couple drinks and drop out.”

“Then why join in at all?” Adams asked.

“Frankly, I hope it’ll convince Steph that I know I don’t have a chance with Mac.”

After a moment of silence, one side of Mac’s mouth curled. “I feel so used,” she stated, and laughed. “Okay, have I covered everything?”

“That should do it,” Bugsy told her.

“Good.” She turned to the server, who had just placed a tray of shot glasses in front of Bugalu and was now handing a bag of ice and several towels to MacGregor. “We need 9 bottles of your cheapest whiskey. Charge each of us for 1.” She hesitated, then whirled. “Smit, would you prefer gin?”

Mac’s Challenge (Part 1)

Month 9 Day 11

Shore Leave Day 12

2009 Hours

Bugalu

Previously:

“If I’d known you were ready to drink, Mac, I would have bought yours,” Ryan stated.

And with that simple offer, the entire tone of the evening changed.

Mac considered the unopened bottle sitting in front of her for a long moment.

“For space sakes, Ryan, can’t you see she isn’t interested in you?” Abdulla growled at the man who sat next to her.

“No, he can’t,” Mac answered quietly. “They never can.” She sent a brief, important look to Bugalu - Is she warning me? Asking for help? What’s she up to? - and stood up to look around the crowded bar. “Good. all the worst ones are here,” she muttered.

“Ensign Jones!” Mac called out, and the general noise of the place quieted as her eyes went to the next person she called on; “Evans! Adams! Moor!” She paused for a deep breath. “And Winthrop,” she finished. “Ryan wants to try and get me drunk! Each of you has also made that offer, in your own oblique and repetitive ways. I’m tired of it. If you really think you can out-drink a Gaelunder, come give it a try!”

“Yellow Pits of Zort!” Abdulla muttered as Mac sat down.

Mac lay her hand on Bear’s wrist. “Will you protect my flank, Tall Person?”

“You got it, Shorty.”

“Thank you.” She turned and moved her unopened bottle to the floor beneath the table, placed her hands on the table and waited as the crowd shifted. The men she had named soon replaced Beth, Capac, Abdulla and Yellow Dog at the table. Her friends pulled chairs from other tables to sit in a blob behind her, uncertain what to expect.

“Now, how is this supposed to work?” Winthrop sneered. Unable to push his way to Mac, he had forced an extra chair up to the table on the other side of Bugalu.

“Bugsy, will you officiate?” Mac asked.

Alarmed, he leaned towards her to whisper, “Mac, if I get out of this chair, Winthrop will be in it in a second!” Her expression said it all. No, I didn’t think she’d like that thought. Maybe she should ask Capac to-

But as usual, Mac had her own idea. She glanced at the Security Chief and then at the group behind her. “Dog?”

“Yes,” the yeoman agreed and stood up, put her hand on the back of Bugalu’s chair.

Mac shifted in her chair, raised a foot off the floor. “Okay, go.”

“Hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered. As he surged up and stepped away, he felt his chair being moved. Winthrop crowded closer, but his chair suddenly went flying backwards, slamming him right into Evans. By the time they sorted themselves out, Dog was in Bugalu’s vacated chair, next to Mac. Bugalu smiled in relief, realized Della had slipped into Dog’s vacated chair.

Winthrop gave a fuming glare at the AmerInd. He probably thinks he can intimidate her into moving. His blackest look won’t scare her. A much better choice than Capac.

“Oh, my, what happened?” Mac asked, her eyes round and trying to look innocent. She turned to the group behind her. “Beth, maybe we should get everybody checked out, medically? I don’t want anybody claiming later that they were half-drunk when we started.”

Beth looked up from her personal communicator. “Drake is on his way.”

“Good,” Mac responded. “Okay, while we’re waiting, we might as well get things set up. We will be drinking shots, 1 every 5 minutes. Bugalu will officiate, meaning he will fill the glasses and tell us when it’s time to drink. As each of you loses consciousness, Bugs will also make arrangements for you to be returned to your hotel room, so be sure you tell him where you’re staying.”

“You seem very sure of yourself,” Moor stated.

Mac gave a lop-sided shrug. “Men have been trying to get me drunk since I arrived at the Academy.”

“And none have ever succeeded,” Bugalu added.

“Not even you?” Winthrop asked.

“I don’t use booze for that,” he returned. “And I’d certainly never try it on a Gaelunder; I’ve seen them drink.”

“I think you guys are overplaying the ‘Gaelunder’ part,” Moor scoffed. “It’s just a colony, and they are humans. Just like all of us.”

Mac grinned. “Human, yes. Like the rest of you? Well... I guess we’ll see.”

“Okay, he’s stone cold sober,” MacGregor said, glancing at the readout of the medscanner he had just waved over Tall Bear.

Bear’s head swiveled in his direction. “Not me, Doc. I’m not drinking.”

“Glad to hear it,” MacGreg said. “Didn’t think this sounded like you.” He moved to the next man, Ryan.

The server stepped forward. “Management does not object to a drinking contest so long as it doesn’t become a brawl. But since drinking contests often do become a brawl, you will each be required to place a deposit which will be used to pay the security guards if they are needed. If not, you’ll get your deposit back.”

“I am security!” Winthrop declared.

“Not here you’re not,” MacGregor immediately disagreed. “Here, you’re just another Fleet crewman on leave. Besides, you’re participating in the contest.”

“How can I not?” Winthrop asked. “She personally invited me.”

“You heard the local rules,” Bugalu told everyone at the table. “Get out your payment cards and authorize a conditional deposit.”

“We’re all Fleet officers; you’d think that would be enough,” Moor complained. “The Fleet won’t tolerate brawls.”

“That’s what I was told at the Academy,” Mac told him. “But in my first month there, I was banned from the Horse and Carriage. Because of a brawl after a drinking challenge. It was the Horse and Carriage that banned me, not the Academy.”

“I think I remember hearing about that,” Bosilevac said as he stepped forward from the crowd. “Happened before I got there, but I heard that a tiny slip of a redheaded freshman took on 2 dozen male cadets at the Horse & Carriage and sent every one of them to the hospital.”

Two dozen? “That’s not correct,” Bugalu refuted, trying to sound certain.

“Nobody landed in the hospital,” Mac stated. “Several went to sick bay for first aid. And there were not 24 of them.”

“Exaggerations,” Bugalu named it.

“Well, how many men did you-uh, were involved?” Bosilevac asked.

Disappointing Day

Month 9 Day 11

Shore Leave Day 12

1725 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu followed Mac as she trudged into the pub. Then she stopped right inside the door and he almost ran into her. “Something wrong?” Her mood’s been deteriorating all day. Even though I let her pick what we did today.

“It’s an English pub,” she observed softly.

Why is that important? Thought she gave up that old notion long ago. “You want to go somewhere else?

“No,” she decided, and sighed. “I guess I was just hoping for something a little more like home.” She moved forward, toward the large table where several of their friends were studying menus.

Okay. We’ve been on Ulseess a week and a half, with its weak gravity. Especially weak for her. And she loves her time in the gym - on the Fireball - because it gives her a chance to experience what she sees as ‘normal’ gravity. Cheer up, sis, our return to the Fireball is only 4 days away.

“You look tired,” Capac stated as Mac approached the group.

“No wonder you don’t get dates,” Ryan smirked at him from across the table.

“I prefer Capac’s truth to a bunch of malarky,” Mac muttered.

Bugalu chose to ignore Ryan. “It’s been a long day,” he said and sat down next to Capac while Mac took the seat next to Tall Bear.

“I suppose you took her to a biological garden?” Ryan asked.

“No,” Bugalu answered as he opened a spare menu. We did that our first day here. “We went to a museum. Mac chose which one. It was a long day, but... interesting.”

“No it wasn’t,” Mac denied, and sighed again.

“Which museum did you go to?” Beth asked. “I usually choose history, or paleontology.”

“Technology history,” Mac answered.

Abdulla blinked. “Unusual choice, but what was wrong with it?”

Mac grimaced and turned her attention to the server. “I’ll have shepherd’s pie, a berry tart and lemonade to drink.”

“Lemonade!” Ryan sounded surprised. “Not a pint?”

Mac gave the man a cold look. “What and when I choose to drink is none of your business.”

“Quite right,” Abdulla agreed.

The server took the rest of the orders, and then Mac decided to answer the question that had been left hanging. “The museum wasn’t what I expected. I mean, if you went to a museum to look at dinosaur bones or caveman artifacts, you’d expect actual fossilized bones and pieces of artifacts, right? But this technology museum seemed like a cheat. To me, at least. They didn’t have actual machines, they had mock-ups. I bet there weren’t even anything resembling a working piece on the insides. And the little signs that supposedly explained what we were looking at were devoid of any useful facts! The name of the mocked-up item, the name of who invented it, the date it was invented... In local time; I didn’t bother to convert it to a galactic date. And then 1 short sentence. Something like, ‘made fabric weaving faster by 10%! Yellow Pits of Zort!”

Almost everyone at the table blinked at this unknown swear phrase. “Zort?” Beth queried.

“Oh, that’s an ancient god on Yukosk,” Mac explained. “I don’t think Kolla understood the actual reference, as nobody has believed in him... it... for generations, but the phrase is still a form of swearing, apparently.”

“But... why did you use it?” Bugalu asked. She’s not getting herself confused with Kolla again, is she?

“Because Pa doesn’t approve of women who swear,” she answered simply. “Even though I find that knowing how a people swear helps me understand their culture.”

“I should have known,” he responded, rolling his eyes. Having Ryan here brought Pa to the forefront, I suppose. A disappointing museum visit probably started her thinking that her pa wouldn’t approve of that activity, and once he’s got a toehold in her mind, it doesn’t take much to let him come back in full force. “In any case, since your day today was disappointing, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

She hesitated before answering. She waited so long, in fact, that the food and drinks arrived. Everybody started eating, and comparing notes on how their shore leave had gone so far. Bugalu let her non-answer slide. Maybe she doesn’t want to let Ryan know where she plans to be tomorrow. Or maybe she hasn’t decided yet. We can decide later. There’s no real hurry.

As the meal and conversation progressed, Mac’s mood seemed to improve, and she was soon joining the conversation, teasing her friends and telling outrageous anecdotes of her brothers’ escapades as she grew up.

She hasn’t said anything more directly to Ryan. After that statement that her drinking was none of his business, she’s completely ignored him. Wonder if he’ll take the hint?

Hard to believe this is the same girl who arrived at the Academy with Matt. She was so skittish and uptight. When Matt introduced us and I held out my hand, she stared at it like it was an octopus tentacle or something. Well, with her father’s brain-washing, that’s probably how she saw a man’s hand.

But look at her now, laughing and participating, just like a normal person. When Capac said something mildly stupid - because he’s Capac, and not used to being part of a group - she tossed an ice cube at him, which Dog backed up by throwing a napkin. Bear briefly touched her hand to get her attention, and she simply turned to see what he wanted, without tensing up or balling a fist. She’s made a lot of progress.

The server finished cleaning their empty plates off the table, and most of the group ordered themselves another drink. Those arrived fairly quickly, and only one person at the table took notice when an unopened bottle and empty glass were set before Mac. “If I’d known you were ready to drink, Mac, I would have bought yours,” Ryan stated.

And with that simple offer, the entire tone of the evening changed.