visual displays.
Paul yawned, then grimaced and grabbed a quick gulp of coffee from the container clipped to his belt. Quiet and dark could be too nice. Too conducive to falling asleep, anyway, and the last thing anybody wanted to do was fall asleep on watch. Or, as Carl Meadows used to advise him, "Falling asleep on watch is like falling off a cliff. It feels fine for a while, until you hit the bottom. Or in the case of sleeping on watch, until somebody finds you sleeping. Then you'll wish you had fallen off a cliff instead."
"Paul."
He looked over at Lieutenant Isakov. "Yes, ma'am?"
She laughed. "Ma'am?"
"You didn't tell me I could call you anything else."
"Oh. Right. So, I'm Val. I've got a question for you."
Paul couldn't be certain of her expression in the dim lighting. "What's that?"
Isakov tapped her control console with two fingers for a moment before speaking again. "I wonder . . . it looks like war, don't you think?"
"Maybe. I hope not."
"I've never been in combat."
"Neither have I."
"But you did lead that damage control team. I've heard about it. Pretty nasty fire, right?"
Paul took a deep breath as the memory flooded back. "Yeah. Forward Engineering was an inferno. We couldn't see a thing because of the smoke." He felt his heart speeding up and tried to calm himself. That happened six months ago. But Chief Asher died in it and Scott Silver got court-martialed because of it. Because I helped chase down the evidence that Silver had been doing a lousy job and might've ordered Chief Asher to do something that started the fire. I wonder if anybody's told Isakov about all that ? "It was pretty intense."
Isakov leaned toward Paul slightly, pitching her voice lower even though the enlisted watchstanders were deep in their own quiet conversation. "Then you know. What it's like to face that kind of danger."
"I . . . guess so."
"It must have been very exciting."
Paul shook his head. "No. I was too scared to be excited."
"Scared?" Isakov laughed again, in way which bothered Paul. "Scared?"
"Yes. I had a lot of things to worry about." He wondered if he sounded defensive, and wondered why he cared.
She leaned closer. "So you don't believe in taking risks?"
"When I need to."
A little closer. He thought he could feel her breath on his face. "Some risks are worth choosing. Just for fun. Don't you think?"
Paul shook his head. "No."
Isakov grinned and leaned away again. "That's not very heroic of you," she noted with another laugh.
Not sure what Isakov was up to, he decided he should blow it off. "I'm not a hero."
She called up the Captain's Standing Orders on her display and made a show of reading them. Paul spent a few more moments wondering what it had all been about, then mentally shrugged and concentrated again on staying awake.
A week later, after standing a lot more watches with Isakov, he still hadn't figured her out. She knew her job, and sometimes talked about her time on the Isherwood , or the Ish-fish as the ship was nicknamed in the fleet, in a friendly fashion. Other times she treated Paul like they'd just met, and she hadn't been impressed by the experience.
But he had plenty of other things to worry about on this particular watch besides whatever ticked inside Isakov's head.
The Maury had left Franklin nearly a full day after the Michaelson , cutting a slightly tighter and faster course toward their rendezvous point. Thanks to the moon-bounce updates on Maury 's course and speed they'd been able to localize her much better than if they'd just been depending on passive detection of what signs of the other ship's presence leaked past her various means of hiding in space. Paul checked the datum outlined on the Michaelson 's maneuvering displays again.
Commander Garcia swung onto the bridge and scowled equally at Paul and the displays. "Damn stupid idea," he grumbled, then pointed at the estimated position and vector for the Maury . "If we were just going to do a firing run, fine.
Paul yawned, then grimaced and grabbed a quick gulp of coffee from the container clipped to his belt. Quiet and dark could be too nice. Too conducive to falling asleep, anyway, and the last thing anybody wanted to do was fall asleep on watch. Or, as Carl Meadows used to advise him, "Falling asleep on watch is like falling off a cliff. It feels fine for a while, until you hit the bottom. Or in the case of sleeping on watch, until somebody finds you sleeping. Then you'll wish you had fallen off a cliff instead."
"Paul."
He looked over at Lieutenant Isakov. "Yes, ma'am?"
She laughed. "Ma'am?"
"You didn't tell me I could call you anything else."
"Oh. Right. So, I'm Val. I've got a question for you."
Paul couldn't be certain of her expression in the dim lighting. "What's that?"
Isakov tapped her control console with two fingers for a moment before speaking again. "I wonder . . . it looks like war, don't you think?"
"Maybe. I hope not."
"I've never been in combat."
"Neither have I."
"But you did lead that damage control team. I've heard about it. Pretty nasty fire, right?"
Paul took a deep breath as the memory flooded back. "Yeah. Forward Engineering was an inferno. We couldn't see a thing because of the smoke." He felt his heart speeding up and tried to calm himself. That happened six months ago. But Chief Asher died in it and Scott Silver got court-martialed because of it. Because I helped chase down the evidence that Silver had been doing a lousy job and might've ordered Chief Asher to do something that started the fire. I wonder if anybody's told Isakov about all that ? "It was pretty intense."
Isakov leaned toward Paul slightly, pitching her voice lower even though the enlisted watchstanders were deep in their own quiet conversation. "Then you know. What it's like to face that kind of danger."
"I . . . guess so."
"It must have been very exciting."
Paul shook his head. "No. I was too scared to be excited."
"Scared?" Isakov laughed again, in way which bothered Paul. "Scared?"
"Yes. I had a lot of things to worry about." He wondered if he sounded defensive, and wondered why he cared.
She leaned closer. "So you don't believe in taking risks?"
"When I need to."
A little closer. He thought he could feel her breath on his face. "Some risks are worth choosing. Just for fun. Don't you think?"
Paul shook his head. "No."
Isakov grinned and leaned away again. "That's not very heroic of you," she noted with another laugh.
Not sure what Isakov was up to, he decided he should blow it off. "I'm not a hero."
She called up the Captain's Standing Orders on her display and made a show of reading them. Paul spent a few more moments wondering what it had all been about, then mentally shrugged and concentrated again on staying awake.
A week later, after standing a lot more watches with Isakov, he still hadn't figured her out. She knew her job, and sometimes talked about her time on the Isherwood , or the Ish-fish as the ship was nicknamed in the fleet, in a friendly fashion. Other times she treated Paul like they'd just met, and she hadn't been impressed by the experience.
But he had plenty of other things to worry about on this particular watch besides whatever ticked inside Isakov's head.
The Maury had left Franklin nearly a full day after the Michaelson , cutting a slightly tighter and faster course toward their rendezvous point. Thanks to the moon-bounce updates on Maury 's course and speed they'd been able to localize her much better than if they'd just been depending on passive detection of what signs of the other ship's presence leaked past her various means of hiding in space. Paul checked the datum outlined on the Michaelson 's maneuvering displays again.
Commander Garcia swung onto the bridge and scowled equally at Paul and the displays. "Damn stupid idea," he grumbled, then pointed at the estimated position and vector for the Maury . "If we were just going to do a firing run, fine.
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