Dealing with a problem

Month 10 Day 26

0803 Hours

Captain Jane Burke

Jane took her seat behind her desk, indicated the facing chair for Smitty. “Well, what is this about?” This had better be good, to explain why he ‘forgot’ his day off. Again.

“As soon as I learned that I had been wrong in my assumption about who built those mistletoe units, I came to the bridge to apologize and inform Co-MacDowell that her punishment was cancelled. Before I could get a word in, before I could even step off the lift, I heard some of the worst sexual harassment I’ve ever heard.”

Jane’s mood fell. Sounds like Evans is at it again. Some people never take a hint. “Evans?”

“Not just him. Adams was there instead of in engineering, and he was just as involved as Evans. I’ve come to file a complaint against both of them.”

“On her behalf,” Jane ended for him. “Good. I’ve wondered when she’d get fed up enough to do that.”

Smitty frowned. “She hasn’t. Or rather, she’s afraid that if she files charges, either she won’t be believed, or they’ll twist it around to seem that she’s having an affair with whomever she consults to file those charges.”

“I don’t understand. You just said she filed charges.”

“No, sir. I tried my best to convince her to, especially after I debriefed Firoz on the situation, but she utterly refused. I’m here to file charges myself, on her behalf, but without her approval.”

That’s unusual. But if anybody did it, I would expect it was Smitty. Still, it’s entirely possible he’d be named by the perpetrators as not a disinterested party. I don’t want her to think she isn’t believed, but we have to be careful with ‘this situation’. “I‘m not surprised, but you’re putting me in a bit of a spot.”

Smitty looked surprised. “What do you mean?” And then he got a little angry. “Captain, if you had any idea what she has to put up, night after night—”

“But I don’t,” she pointed out. “Not really, although I have a clue or two. That’s why Evans is now on D shift. It only gives him 2 nights a week to pester her. If he hasn’t taken the hint and is still up to his old behavior, I’m willing to take further action. But if she isn’t willing to file charges--or at the very least to back up your filing of charges--then he can easily twist that into you having some... interest in her yourself.”

“Captain!”

He’s appalled by the insinuation, and yet those red spots on his cheeks say something else. She motioned him into silence. “So we have to go about this carefully. Make sure we have plenty of evidence to back up the charges. Did you record Firoz’s debriefing?”

Smitty’s demeanor deflated. “No, I never thought to. I certainly never expected a woman who endures that kind of treatment to refuse to file charges!”

“So, we need to gather proof before we file charges. If she won’t, can’t or doesn’t want to cooperate, we have to gather that proof despite her. I can ‘debrief’ other members of the midnight bridge and make sure I record what they say. But there’s a chance one of them might tell someone, and before you know it, the pair of miscreants would hear about it and be warned. So before I do that, we should try to record what happens on the midnight shift on the bridge.”

Smitty nodded. “Right. Record the nights he’s on duty. But I don’t think she’d agree to doing that.”

“No, I meant every night she’s on duty, not just the nights Evans is on duty. We don’t want him claiming that his duty shifts are no different from the rest of them.”

Smitty’s brow furrowed. “True, he would be the type to make that claim. Still, I don’t think she’d do it. She seems pretty determined not to take any action against them. She’s afraid of the rumors they would spread if she did do something.”

“We’ll consult with Abdulla, make sure the recordings are without MacDowell’s knowledge. We certainly don’t want the victim to spill the beans about what we’re doing. If she had knowledge like that, it might slip out in a moment of unthinking anger.”

He looked thoughtful. “That... seems like a good idea,” he agreed.

“We should also take a look at how well they’ve been doing their jobs while they’ve been harassing her, compare it to nights when they haven’t been harassing her. That will open stricter forms of discipline, if their job performance has suffered from their intrapersonal pursuits.”

“That sounds good. There’s no way Adams can be doing his job properly when he isn’t even in engineering.”

Jane reached forward and pushed a button. “Lt Abdulla, would you come to my office, please?”

It only took a moment for Abdulla to make her appearance. “Yes, captain?”

“We want to audio record what happens on A shift every night that MacDowell is on duty, but not have her realize it’s happening. I assume you can arrange that.”

There was a hint of a smile on Abdulla’s face. “I’ve tried to get her to file charges, but she’s a stubborn girl, with some strange ideas in her head. As for recording, yes, I can set it up, but if I do it, I can’t guarantee she won’t notice. I suggest asking Rags—um, Lt Oakhurst to set it up. He can do it and cut out the telltale ‘recording’ light from the system so that she doesn’t realize it’s being done. Would you like me to talk to him?”

“Mr Smythe will,” Jane decided. “Thank you, Abdulla. Needless to say, if we don’t want MacDowell to know things are being recorded, we don’t want anyone else to know, either.” When the young woman nodded, Jane told her, “Dismissed.” After she had left, Jane turned to her Chief Engineer. “Do you understand all the recordings and reports we need Oakhurst to gather for us? Is there anything we’ve forgotten?”

“I remember,” he stated. “I’ve got another report I’ll have one of my people put together. Will you be informing Nichols?”

“Not until we’re ready to file charges. I don’t want any hint of what we’re doing to get back to Evans and Adams. Make sure your people understand that. And don’t tell anybody anything about this that you don’t have to. If they don’t know anything, they can’t let it slip.” She turned her head. “Is that understood, Blossum?”

“Yes, sir. I haven’t heard a word.”

“Good. Okay, Smitty, go consult with your people. I don’t know what shift Oakhurst is on today, but track him down at your earliest opportunity. I’ll send him a message that you are acting on my behalf, and if he has any questions about that, he can contact me directly. Consult with whoever you assign your report to. And then... get out of uniform and enjoy the rest of your day off!”

Smitty sighed at her final instruction. “Yes, sir.”

Temptation

Month 10 Day 26

0758 Hours

Bugalu

Wishing desperately that this had been one of his days off, Bugalu hung back in the back of the crew when the lift arrived at the bridge. He was not in any hurry to leave the crowded transport, and waited as long as he possibly could before following the others. Space, this is going to be so hard. I always say something to her at shift change. Always! Only now I can’t! Eventually - far sooner than he was ready for it - everybody else had gotten off. Steeling himself, he walked off the lift and started for his station.

“Bugs!” He heard her quiet call and abruptly ceased walking, but stopped himself from turning to face her. “I need to talk to you,” she added.

People were trying to get past him, headed for the lift. He grabbed one at random. “Firoz, would you please remind Mac that I am not allowed to talk to her?”

Firoz stared at him as if he was insane. “Why not?”

“No, Bugs, that’s not-- At least I think it’s...” Her voice trailed off on a note of general confusion.

That was when Bugs saw Smythe at the engineering console. A cold draft went down the helmsman’s back as he realized how close he had come to disobeying an order. Even this—giving her a message through someone else—might be too much for the old man to bear.

Bugalu was surprised, then, by the look of mild confusion on Smythe’s face as the engineer gazed at him and then shifted his attention to Mac. “Oh,” the older man grunted. “I should have told you at breakfast; Lt MacDowell’s confinement has been canceled. Therefore, that stipulation is no longer in effect, either.”

Bugalu could only stare at him in puzzled shock. From her chair, the captain asked, “What made you change your mind, Smitty?” You were quite irate last night.”

Yes, I’d like to know, too. He absolutely was not going to listen to anybody last night. But this morning he’s cool as can be.

The engineer’s face went a little pink. “Yes, well, Lt Wilson informed me that Co-MacDowell didn’t make those items, that she - Wilson - did.”

“So you confined Wilson?” Evans asked with a gloating grin.

Smythe turned a cold look on the helmsman. “No, I did not.”

Evans looked surprised, but didn’t say anything else, and turned back to his station, pausing only to send an impatient glare at Bugalu. Tough. He can wait. I have to be sure...

Smythe went on. “I never told Wilson not to make any such items, so I can’t punish her for having done so.”

“But are you sure MacDowell did not tell her how to do it?” Captain Burke asked, and quickly held up her hand to stop Mac from answering.

What’s she probing for? Although, actually, she’s asking all the same questions I would, if I were her. If I weren’t already sure of the answers.

Smythe shook his head, his face going even redder. “No, she had nothing to do with it.” He cleared his throat. “Turns out I... asked a question that got Wilson thinking along those lines. Meanwhile, I forgot I’d even asked her.”

“I see,” the captain stated. “Well, everything ends well, then. Mr Bugalu, you have 1 minute to exchange pleasantries with Lt MacDowell.”

“Yes, sir,” he acknowledged, and finally turned to face his adopted sister, a big grin on his face. “Then you’ll join me for supper this evening, right, Mac?”

“No, Bugs, I can’t. Not for a few days. I just can’t deal with that mistletoe any more.”

“Oh.” Should have seen that coming. She did give it a good try. If it had just been Tall Bear, she might have been willing to risk it again tonight. But I don’t want to drive her right back to Pa’s brainwashing. “Okay, tell you what. I’ll bring supper to you, and we’ll spend the night in.”

She sighed in relief, one hand nervously clutching the lower front of her uniform tunic. “Thanks, Bugs.”

The captain cleared her throat. “Excuse me for intruding. The mistletoe was only approved for 24 hours. By now they should be in storage, awaiting dismantling by the evening shift.”

Approved by whom? Did she know about them all along? Come to think of it, I didn’t see any of them at breakfast.

Mac’s face lit up in relief with a big grin. “That’s even better. Thank you for the information, captain. Supper as usual, Bugs.” She left the bridge.

Bugalu was humming when he finally relieved Evans. “Wasn’t that a touching scene,” Evans muttered. “She’s not yours exclusively, you know.”

“As usual, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The shift-change procedure finished, Evans leaned closer, his voice went even lower. “She picked up a new boy friend last night.”

Idiot. “Did she? Good for her.” The best way to drive him crazy is to be completely unconcerned, no matter what he says. Gnashing his teeth, the other man turned angrily and left.

With the bridge emptied of midnighters, the captain asked, “Mr Smythe, I could have sworn this was your day off. Is there a reason for you being here, or did you merely forget that?”

Smitty slowly turned from watching the engineering console. “Actually, captain, I’d like a few words with you.”

“Sounds serious,” she half joked. “How is our course, Mr Bugalu?”

It was her standard query at the start of each shift, and after a quick glance at his controls, he gave her his standard response. “We’re on course and at speed, Captain.”

“Very well. Smitty, come into my office.”

First Try (Part 1)

Month 10 Day 26

0035 Hours

Smythe

The lift arrived too soon to suit Smitty, who was not sure how to phrase his apology. Not surprisingly, he heard some conversation between the door opening and his stepping off. “Mr Adams, that is a personal question that I choose not to answer,” Colleen stated stiffly. Adams is here? Smitty stepped unnoticed onto the bridge. Firoz, at the engineering console, caught sight of him; Smitty motioned for silence. What’s going on? 2 men stood flanking Colleen’s chair, leaning on it.

“I’m sorry I missed your party,” Adams told her. “I wouldn’t have let you substitute Bugalu for me, if I’d caught you under the mistletoe.”

“Don’t you need to modify the range to allow for proximity?” Evans asked.

“Not if we’re on course!” she growled through clenched teeth.

“That’s enough,” Smitty said softly.

She whirled, leaving Evans unbalanced as the chair pulled out from under his hand and struck Adams in the- The man’s face blanched as he leaned against the console and fought for breath.

Evans regained his feet. “You’re on report, MacDowell! For striking a superior!” His attitude suddenly changed. “Unless you care to... dissuade us from reporting this?”

She jumped up to face him. “Why stop with striking one officer? Why not assault 2?”

“Belay that!” Smitty roared, walked over to consider her... and realized she was wearing makeup. Not like that night on B-27, but... She doesn’t usually have dark circles under her eyes. What am I going to do with you?

She turned her head. “Are you asking for suggestions?” she whispered.

Oh, space! I said it aloud. How many others heard it? What kind of suggestions? Sitting at the same table, side by side, their knees touching, his hand on hers, her lips so sweet-- No, I don’t dare follow that question down that path. “I told you to keep a lid on that temper,” he reminded her loudly.

“Oh.” Her face turned a delicate pink. “Well, it has been 10 months,” she pointed out. “That’s a really long time. For me.”

“Has it?” he asked, and calculated the time. “10. And a half. Almost 11. Well, I can’t expect miracles overnight, can I?”

“Mr Smythe, I’m glad you witnessed it,” Evans stated. “I’m putting MacDowell on report for striking a superior officer!”

Doesn’t he realize- “Are you?” he asked. “What if her temper isn’t all I witnessed? What if the blow was accidental, and wouldn’t have happened if Adams hadn’t stood so close to her?” At least he has the sense to blanch, now that this isn’t going his way. “What I witnessed was one of the worst cases of harassment in history! I rather wish you-“

“Temper, temper,” he heard her whisper, and forced himself to calm down. Can’t expect her to stay calm if I can’t manage it.

“I wish you’d see that we are on course,” he groused. “Make do without a communications officer for a time; I need to speak to her.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed as he considered the woman suspiciously. “Yes, sir,” he stated, and turned for the helm.

Smitty turned to the lift, paused to consider Firoz. He told Adams, “I’m glad you’re here, Adams. Take Firoz’s place for a time; I need a few words with him, also.”

Adams swallowed, not yet over his pain. “Yes, sir,” he agreed hoarsely.

The 3 of them entered the lift, which he directed to deck 4. It had the closest briefing room. And... Colleen’s quarters. Maybe I should give her the rest of the night off. No, that won’t solve anything. He glanced at her, leaning in a corner, staring at the floor, arms crossed.

“Hey, Mac.” Firoz reached for her shoulder, but her forearm batted his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed.

“I don’t know how you put up with it,” Firoz told her quietly. “Or why.”

“What can I do?” she returned shortly, but just as softly. “I’d just give them more material for their dirty imaginations.”

The door opened. Smitty paused at the briefing room door. “You first, Firoz. MacDowell, you can go to your quarters, if you need a drink or...”

She shook her head grimly. “I need a belt, but... not on duty.”

Startled, he was ready to tartly tell her he hadn’t meant alcohol, but pulled his temper under control. How does she irritate me so easily? I’d have found the remark amusing, if Abdulla had made it. Well, at least she expressed the right idea; not on duty. “Yes, he mumbled. “Glad to hear it. I’ll be ready for you in a moment.”

“Promises, promises,” she uttered. He refused to dwell on the meaning of that, and entered the briefing room.

“Mac, don’t you ever think before you speak?” Firoz asked her.

“Now what did I say?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

He chuckled. “Ask Tall Bear at lunch. He’ll explain.”

“Umm, I may not be having lunch with TB.”

He seemed surprised. “No? Well, then I’ll explain after shift.”

When the door closed, Smitty took a seat and motioned the other engineer to another. “You seem to be friendly with Lt MacDowell,” he observed.

“She’s all right,” Firoz replied guardedly.

Now he remembered; Firoz prefers men. Well, move on. It doesn’t change why I’ve got him here. It might even be better. “I’m appalled by what I heard on the bridge. Tell me how that got started.”

Firoz scowled. “Evans needs to be put in his place, but I can’t squeal. That’s how he’d see it.” His dark eyes held anger. “He can be blasted mean. To anybody he feels is in his way.”

“Then you condone his behavior,” Smitty suggested

Firoz shivered in disgust. “I should be spaced if I do!”

“If you don’t act, you might as well encourage him,” he pointed out. The younger man hesitated, and Smitty went on. “Try to look at this as a debriefing.”

Now the swarthy features grinned. “A debriefing! Exactly! What would you like to know, Mr Smythe?”

“How many times has Lt Adams come to the bridge while on duty?”

“Just on duty?”

“Does he come when he’s off duty?”

Firoz shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to matter to him. He’s been showing up pretty much the last... almost 11 months.”

11 months? “Every night?”

“Whenever Mac and Evans are working. He tried to come when Evans wasn’t on duty, but Amana put an end to that.”

Amana? Oh, the relief helmsman. Correction. Evans is relief these days; Amana is midnights. From what I remember, she’s a no-nonsense woman. “What’s his reason for being on the bridge?”

“To pester Mac.”

“I mean, his official reason.”

“Don’t know that he bothers with one,” Firoz answered.

“What I heard tonight, was that typical? Or was this a special case?”

“Well, they referred to the party and mistletoe, and they don’t usually have that material to work with. But actually, what you heard was pretty tame.”

“Tame?”

“Of course, the shift has hardly started. Last week, they went into graphic detail about...” Smitty listened in growing horror at the tale of persecution the redhead had to endure, night after night. Firoz suddenly stopped. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You’re looking kind of... green.”

“What you’ve described is pretty--“

“Raunchy,” Firoz agreed.

I was going to say ‘graphic’, but ‘raunchy’ is a better choice.

The younger man went on. “Pretty sickening to listen to. I keep expecting Tall Bear to punch one of them. Either one would suite me. Or both.”

“Tall Bear,” Smitty repeated. Across the messhall, Tall Bear kissed the redhead under the mistletoe, her hands firmly held by his own...

“--lunch with her,” Firoz was saying. “Otherwise, they’d go to lunch, too, and she’d have to endure it even then. By having lunch with Tall Bear, she has a chance to calm down. But he’s never even threatened them. Which I don’t understand, if he’s trying to get on her good side.”

Is he rambling? Or have I lost track of things? “What I saw was pretty horrible. If it gets even worse—” He sighed. “Why does she put up with it?”

“Because of their insinuations,” Firoz replied. “Since she keeps refusing them, they’ve decided she’s a braid-chaser.”

“Braid chaser!”

“That’s someone who--“

“I know what it is,” he told the man tartly. Do they know about— Do I dare to ask? “Who... who do they say she’s—”

Firoz gave him a strange look. All my talk about ‘no gossip’, and here I’m asking him to repeat it! But then the junior engineer answered. “Well, MacGregor, Winthrop and Moor are the only names they’ve used so far. So if she went to one of those with a complaint about them—she’d be a fool to go to Winthrop—they’d claim it was proof of their allegations. And if she went to another officer, they’d claim she was having an affair with him. So... checkmate.”

They’re bluffing. Surely she’s smart enough to realize that?

“She shouldn’t be on the night bridge, Mr Smythe,” Firoz stated. “Haven’t you wondered why no woman accepts duty there? There’s no women in night engineering, either. So both Evans and Adams have set their sights on Mac. Can’t you do anything about it?”

“Something needs to be done,” he agreed. But what? Lost in his thoughts, it took him a while to remember to dismiss Firoz. “And send her in,” he added.