Unexpected Distraction

Month 9 Day 13

Shore Leave Day 14

0746 Hours

Smythe

“Lt Cmdr Smythe, if we’d known you were interested in our seminar, we would have invited you to speak,” gushed the awe-inspired man at the registration table.

Smitty tried not wince as he accepted his payment card’s return. He thought he managed to smile. “I’m flattered, but giving speeches isn’t my strong point. I’m more of a hands-on, spaceship kind of engineer. I doubt if there’s much call for my experience on a well-colonized planet.”

“Oh,  we’re pretty much on the edge of known space out here, and it’s often more feasible to build a ship locally rather than buy one built elsewhere.”

“I suppose that’s true in a lot of places. Do you have a copy of the schedule I could have?”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” The man handed over a brochure and a name tag. “The Main Room is down this hall and to the right. The smaller rooms are on the left.”

“Good, good. Thank you. I’d like to find a seat before they’re all taken.” Smitty escaped to the main room. He noticed tables in the back of the room where a supply of pastries and beverages were laid out, and veered that way.

Slept so poorly these last 2 nights, one could almost say I didn’t sleep, and leave it at that. And then I couldn’t drag myself out of bed in time to have breakfast, so I guess pastries and coffee will have to do. At least there’s a restaurant in the building, so I won’t have to go in search of lunch; I just have to make it that long.

He glanced at the first batch of pastries as he walked by, but what he needed first was coffee. There were several urns of that available, but those closest to the door had long lines, so he continued on, until he finally found an urn on the opposite end that wasn’t as popular. He gulped half of the cup down without moving away, and refilled it as he welcomed the ‘pep juice’ that now coursed through his body. He turned his attention to selecting a sweet to start his day.

With a plate holding a muffin and a local pastry in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other, he turned his attention to finding a seat. He wanted something near the front and in the middle, but not actually in the first couple of rows.

I think every engineer on the planet has come to this seminar, and they all have the same seating preference. Wait, there’s one, near the middle of row 3, if I can get to it before anybody else does.

A moment later, Smitty lowered himself into the empty seat and asked the older man on one side, “I hope you weren’t saving this seat for someone.”

“Not me,” the heavily bearded man replied. “I can’t speak for the young lady.”

As Smitty turned to his other side to complete the formalities, he realized that the few women at this seminar seemed to wear black or dark blue, which made them blend into the crowd of men. But the young woman beside him wore a red pantsuit with a bright blue shirt. As colorful as her clothing was, it was the only thing that made her stand out; her skin was a pale brown, her hair a dark brown. She looked completely out of place, and her intense study of the seminar program said this was all new to her. “Were you saving this seat for someone?”

“No,” she answered softly, without looking up from the schedule.

Good, then I’ll just eat my breakfast and drink my coffee in peace.

As he ate, some part of him still gathered bits and pieces about the young woman, like the facts that she didn’t speak to anyone, and her curves were... generous. As he finished his first pastry, she opened a bag resting at her feet and pulled out a datapad. While one hand still held the program, the red fingernails of the other began tapping on the keyboard, which she balanced on her lap.

What can she possibly be taking notes about from the program? Is she somebody’s intern, left to her own devices at a seminar that looks to be fairly advanced? That hardly seems fair.

“I’ve never been to an engineering seminar on Ulseess before,” he stated.

She seemed to freeze, but eventually her head rose to stare straight ahead. Slowly - reluctantly was the word that came to his mind - she turned to face him. And then she panicked.

He’d seen that look on many youngsters’ faces over the years, mostly on new subordinates who had - or thought they had - done something wrong. But this young woman was not a subordinate of his, and he certainly knew of no reason for her to panic. He shuffled his plastic plate with the remaining pastry and his cup of coffee until he could offer his hand. “My name is Smythe, but I generally answer to Smitty.”

She ignored his offered hand, continued to stare at him through rose-colored glasses. Are those a fashion statement? There’s no reason to wear sun-blocking glasses inside. Her eyes are brown, too. No wonder she wears colorful clothes, to keep from fading into the background.

Somebody tested the microphone on the stage, and the hubbub of the audience faded into silence. The brown young woman suddenly clutched her items to her ample chest. “I should leave,” she muttered, and started to rise.

Smitty placed his hand on her shoulder to keep her in place, and leaned toward her to whisper, “After what you paid to get in? Just get your datapad ready and take plenty of notes. This is likely to be complicated.”

She settled back, giving him another look. She didn’t seem panicked anymore, but definitely confused.

It had been a long time since Smitty had listened diligently to a talk on hydro-electric turbines. It was not a subject he dealt with on a spaceship, although he was familiar with the basic subject. But it didn’t take him long to realize that if the young lady’s fingers hesitated over her keypad, she was probably confused. At those times, he would whisper 3 or 4 words, hoping to give her some direction for further research on her own. At the end of the 45 minute talk, she thanked him in a low, hesitant voice, but didn’t put her datapad away.

“Are you planning to stay here for the next talk?” he asked.

“Should I not?”

“Up to you,” he returned. Except the subjects are completely unrelated. Power generation on a space station never relies on the movement of water. But none of the subjects at this seminar are of much interest to me, personally, and she could use my help. It’s good to see a young person taking such a broad interest in all sorts of engineering. I came here thinking I would at least be with other engineers, and I’m finding enjoyment in being with a youngster who wants to learn. Why stop helping now?