The Ascent

Chapter 15

The spacer flew out of the dining room's doors and hit the corridor wall. He was followed by a flying tray of food and another spacer who grabbed his uniform before he could hit the floor. She drew back her right arm to punch him in the face.

"What's going on here?" I demanded as I hurried toward them.

Seeing an officer's tab on my flightsuit—I had taken to wearing them of late to help restore the fraying order among the crew—the two spacers shrugged to a surly form of attention, their glaring eyes focused on the mess on the floor.

"I-I stumbled, sir" said the man who had hit the wall.

I caught the second spacer's eye. "And you?"

"I was helping him, sir," she said sheepishly.

I slowly drew my gaze across both the spacers and the plates spilled across the floor. "Clean this mess up. You know you're not supposed to have food outside the dining room."

"Yes, sir," they sighed.

"And I want you both to go to your quarters afterward. It appears fatigue has affected your coordination."

"Yes, sir."

I walked away shaking my head. This wasn't the first incident of this type. The long duty hours and the constant threat of impending combat was taking its toll. Even on their short and infrequent leaves, the escalating violence made me wonder if we'd kill each other before the enemy had a chance to try and do it for us.

I considered heading back to my own quarters, but I was too wound up to rest. I went to C&C instead. The net piece was probably just as effective for dealing with whatever messaging I required, but I called up every tac display and holographic monitor at my disposal anyway, comforted by the glow of the surrounding rectangles of light. Images of the research facility where we had stopped, vector plots of our circling ships and nearby asteroids, all neatly tagged and labeled, provided a comfortable illusion of order. The gnawing in the pit of my stomach emphatically suggested that the illusion would not last long. It might be fraying even now.

I considered messaging Cathrine, but we had just taken leave together and finished that date we had started back on Good Passage. It had seemed to go well, but we'd both been distracted with urgent problem messages. Then one of those awkward silences fell where neither one of us knew what to say. We ended up watching crewmembers singing karaoke in the bar which ultimately evolved into an improv talent show. It was pleasant but somehow vaguely disappointing at the same time. I'm not even sure what I had been expecting from our date, but I don't think it rose to her expectations either.

I flash messaged Phil. It took a minute, but he answered more quickly than I had expected.

"Ken, you're calling from C&C. What's wrong?"

"You're not answering my messages. What's happening?"

Irritation flashed on Phil's face, then quickly faded to lines of fatigue and worry. "I'm sorry Ken. I haven't been avoiding you. Things have just been crazy."

"No dissension in the ranks is there? Any fleet commanders backing out now that they know Sunshine's true plans?"

"No. Everyone is spoiling for a fight. In fact, if we don't cross into the inner sphere soon, I think they'll just rip out each other's throats."

"Oh? What's happening?"

Phil waived his hand helplessly. "I've got a dozen complaints about our men from the other fleet commanders. Everything from our ships taking more than our share of allocated supplies to an incident involving some of Sherman's spacers and an attempt to commandeer a pub on the research station."