Mac’s Challenge (Part 5)

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.”