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I really have other things I need to be doing, Zeela thought, as she made her way to the Bilge.
She had heard once that the term had something to do with the old boats that humans had used to travel about on oceans in Earth’s history. But nowadays, it was just a nickname for the Resource Deck.
It was not a whole deck, but it occupied most of one, containing most of the bulk supplies the ship needed. And in the heart of it, was Ham Sulp’s office.
The man lurked in the Bilge most of the time, like a spider in its web. Or maybe a dragon with its gold hoard – though for Sulp his hoard was bulk goods and many, many tons of nurdles that could be melted and molded into any shape needed by the ship’s many 3D printers.
Making her way through the maze of crates of nurdles, dodging the drones that were endlessly sweeping up dropped ones – seriously, how did so many get loose? – she managed to find the door to the office area.
Hidden behind a stack of crates, Zeela hit the chime, though surely Sulp already knew she was here.
He liked to make mazes of his crates, and especially to hide his door, coming up with new innovative designs when too many people learned how to find it easily. “Never make it too easy for people to find you,” he had told her once. “Or they’ll drop in all the time.”
Of course, she was an exception.
The door opened for her and she went in.
“Zeela,” he said warmly, spitting out some of his green tea chew and rising to greet her.
It was vital that she had good relations with the man for the ship to run smoothly, and so she had done everything she could to cultivate a good relationship. Sulp had realized the importance as well, and after several years on the ship they had become true friends. Probably Sulp’s only close friend on board, she thought.
“What brings you down to the Bilge?” he asked.
“Oh, just wanted to personally check on what you found on the drones that came from Iago Caraval’s quarters. Have you found out what was causing their problem?”
Sulp grunted, brow furrowing. It was odd for her to come check on something prosaic, but that meant there had to be something important about it.
“We ran the basic diagnosts,” he said, cutting off the word as he popped fresh chew in his mouth. “But no issues, ‘sides the fact that his boy apparently liked to glue eyeballs on them.”
“Eyeballs?”
“The googly kind. Honestly I had wondered who had made an order for 3,000 googly eyes – guess it was him. Sure would like to know what else he’s be-dewed with eyeballs at this point.”
She had to hold back her laugh. She had gotten some reports of statues in the gardens getting eyes . . . But telling him that gem would have to wait.
“They really hadn’t been doing their job,” she said. “The room was a mess.”
“Would it have killed him to report this himself? Or stars forbid, just clean his own room?”
“The man went through a trauma, Ham.”
Sulp just shrugged. “I’ll keep diving deeper and see if there’s a real problem. But . . . from searching the log, it seems more like he was just telling them not to clean.”
“What?” she asked.
“I see at least forty-two commands to stop cleaning and go into hibernation from the man over the past few days. Or at least that’s how the drones were interpreting things he said. We can always look to see if there’s an issue with their speech recognition.”
“I see. Well . . . hopefully he’ll have better luck with the current set.”
Sulp grunted again and turned away. “We also bumped his new chair up the queue as you requested. Should be done in a few minutes and we’ll get it up to him.”
“Thank you. There is one more thing, though. I know you were going to leave in a few hours to see a friend-“
Sulp glanced up at her. “It’s a supply run.”
“Oh, you could send anyone on that. You just want to see Eabor, and that’s fine, but I thought maybe you could do something else for me?”
The man frowned. “If I’m on-duty, and it’s not too much trouble, and if I’m in the mood-“
“Here,” she said, handing over a hard copy of the orders.
His jaw fell open. “You’re shitting me.”
“No, if I was, it’d be something even more absurd, like a trained ostrich.”
“I’d rather that than a spacehound. You know they shed, right? At least an ostrich has some good meat, but spacehounds taste-“
“Tat tat!” she said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to know what kinds of living creatures you’ve eaten. I don’t even like to think about what kind of lifeforms people used to eat.”
“Fair ’nuff. All right, though. Five of the spacehounds?” He shook his head. “People are gonna pet their fur off.”
“It’s a trial run,” she said. “They’re already trained, and if they’re being pet too much they’ll go to their rest area. You know the Captain always liked the idea, but the waitlist for Sol System spacehounds is so long-“
“Shouldn’t be so picky,” Sulp said, still eying the paper. “Some good dogs from a good spacer colony will be a lot better.”
Zeela did not agree with that. True spacer breeds were often as temperamental as Sulp. Not biters, but they still were not the friendly, helpful companions most people thought of.
“Well, it’s the perfect time all around. We could use a morale boost.”
“True enough. How’s the preparations for the election going, by the way?”
“Just fine,” she lied. She was going to be very behind, but she’d make it up.
He did not pick up on that, instead turning away, still looking at the paperwork and shaking his head. He brought out a tablet and scanned the documents before tucking them away.
“That is on my way,” he admitted. “I’ll do it. But you owe me one.”
“I’ll get you a great dinner when you return,” she promised with a smile.
Other Terrestrial 