Month 9 Day 11
Shore Leave Day 12
2111 Hours
Bugalu
Previously:
They all drank, and
he started around the table, filling the glasses yet again.
“So, you claim you
weren’t her ‘study partner’?” Winthrop asked.
Bugsy snorted in derision. “She’s communications. I’m
command. We didn’t have any subjects in common to study together.” I know what he actually meant, but we
weren’t lovers, either. “How’s everybody doing?” he asked the table in general.
To a man, each said he was fine, although Jones sounded on
the verge of slurring. Mac simply held up a thumb and kept playing solitaire.
She still had a long ways to go. She is,
after all, used to drinking by the bottle, rather than by shots.
The contest continued. The solitaire games continued. After a
couple more drinks, Jones passed out, and got so loose-muscled that he slid
down in his chair. Capac and Kagan pulled him out from under the table and carried
him outside to find a taxi.
None of the others even noticed. Or, if some did notice, they
didn’t comment.
The card games continued. The drinks continued. I understand why Mac thinks these drinking
contests are boring. She can drink slowly, if she wants to. She doesn’t have to chug down bottle after bottle.
But she isn’t used to being told when to drink, how much to drink, how fast...
No, this would definitely not be fun for her.
His personal alarm went off. “Drink up,” he said, and got
ready to refill glasses again. Halfway around the table, he stopped and stared
at a shot glass that hadn’t been emptied. “Moor?”
Eyes staring straight ahead, the officer emitted a soft snore
followed by a whistling inhale.
“Moor’s out,” Bugsy declared and sent his hotel info to
Capac. It’s down to 3. And this last
bottle is as good as empty. “Ante up for fresh bottles,” he told those remaining
in the contest, and signaled for the server.
Mac and Smythe handed over their paycards at once, despite
each being deep in their card game. Winthrop ignored the waiting server as he
studied Mac and sent occasional glances at Smythe. The server gave Bugsy a questioning
look.
“Winthrop, ante up or you’re out,” Bugsy said.
“Just a minute,” Winthrop returned, somewhat slurring his
ess. He reached out to touch Mac’s hand, and she suddenly gathered all her
cards into a pile and started shuffling. “My dear, we could shettle thiss
between ush. Just pick a day and plase to meet.”
She leaned back in her chair and shuffled without benefit of
the table top to catch any cards that might escape her fingers. “One, you’re
drunk, and don’t have a chance of winning, but 2, if you don’t ante up, you will forfeit, and 3, you aren’t
supposed to ask me for a drink, a date or sex. Ever again. So, are you in or
out?”
Winthrop turned an unhealthy red. “That’sh no way to shpeak
to a shuperior offishur!”
“Ante up or get out!” Bugalu pressed loudly.
“How dare you-!”
Tall Bear stood up and Ferguson stepped forward. Taking hold
of the security chief, they hauled him to his feet and marched him toward the
door.
“2 bottles,” Bugsy told the server, who nodded and moved off.
Only 2 left. And if Smythe really only
joined in to keep an eye on Winthrop and Moor, why doesn’t he drop out as well?
Actually, he probably could have kept
a better eye on things by watching, rather than participating.
Still, he doesn’t look very drunk, just completely absorbed in his game of
solitaire. And I don’t see any glaring mistakes in his game, either. Capac
would probably be stupid enough to say something, if he saw any. Well, I suspected
Smythe could put it away.
His attention shifted to Mac, who was still leaning back,
still shuffling, but watching Smythe. She’s
trying to keep a stone face, but I can see a dozen emotions chasing each other.
Poor girl. Whatever happens now, this is going to be rough for her.
The 2 bottles arrived, and Mac sat forward to set up her next
game. The drinking game and card games continued. Bugalu glanced around,
realized half the observers had wandered away. Mac’s complete disinterest in
flirting - or even in conversing - with the male contestants makes this pretty
boring. Which is fine, since she’s
trying to discourage interest. Discourage? Not this guy. I don’t think. But she
doesn’t know how to flirt. She manages to flirt without knowing she’s doing it,
but she has to be talking. She’s probably
intimidated by all those watching. Wait. Intimidate Mac? No. Make her embarrassed
after she puts her foot in her mouth. Maybe. Is she even aware of the crowd, anymore?
Smythe cleared his throat, and Bugsy realized he was half a
minute late. “Drink up.”
So, do I get Mac
talking, hope she says something that sounds flirtatious? Flirtatious toward
him, but not toward me? Could I even manage that? Would she want me to? She has
been trying to become more ‘normal’. Jump in, Bugsy, what else is a brother
for?
But making that decision and acting on it were 2 different
things. He refilled their glasses and noted the time, but all he could think to
say was, “How are those projects of yours coming, Mac?”
She looked up briefly in surprise. “Well, they’ve been shut
down during shore leave, since everything shuts down on the ship,” she
answered.
“No,” Smythe responded. “I made an exception for your computer,
since I knew you had important projects in the works. I even made allowances
for your computer to link to other computers, if needed.”
The renewed surprise on her face broke into a broad smile.
“Thank you, Smit! I’ve been trying to control my irritation at the thought of
being 2 weeks behind when I get back, and you were nice enough to let the work
progress! Now I can really relax!”
The engineer developed pink flags in his cheeks. “One of
those projects is for me, so I wasn’t completely altruistic.”
“Maybe. But it was still nice. Of course, I’ll still be
behind. Not just with sorting mail; after 2 weeks, plenty of that will have
stacked up! But also with a huge list of words the dictionary program doesn’t
recognize.” She laughed. “I can hardly wait to get back!”
“Don’t forget to sleep,” Abdulla cautioned her. “As for the
mail, all 3 shifts will be working on that until it’s caught up. It’s not yours
alone to manage.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize that. That makes it even better! Ab,
once the mail is caught up, can I continue to tweak my programs during my
shift?”
Abdulla looked startled by the request, and then uncertain.
“Well, I...”
“Consider this, lieutenant,” Smythe suggested. “I’d like to
get my project completed as soon as is reasonable. And she can’t accurately
translate unless she’s got quite a bit of her dictionary done.”
“Well, I guess that settles it. Yes, as long as it doesn’t interfere
with your duties. And I suppose this is a good time for me to ask. When will
you be ready to teach the rest of us the Yukosk language?”
“Yukoskian,” Mac corrected, and turned to face her friend. “I
thought you’d do the teaching.”
Abdulla smiled. “You just corrected me,” she pointed out. “You have first-hand knowledge of the
language. So think about it. Start preparing for it after shore leave. We’ll
talk later and work out details.”
Mac thought for a moment. “But, I update the universal
translator regularly. Why bother with lessons?”
Smythe spoke again. “How many languages do you speak
fluently, Colleen? Lots of other people already know them, so why did you learn
them?”
“Well... to glean nuances of the culture the language represents.”
“There you go. Starships rely on communications officers to
not only offer basic translation, but also to provide insights into the culture,
as much as one can. Anyway, it won’t be long before any communications officer
who can list ‘Yukosk’ as a known language will start being requested by merchants
and scientists. Possibly even tourist groups. Especially when it’s been learned
as close to natively as you have.”
