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Chapter 13

The work of discharge and then of loading went smoothly. Grimes was able during his time in port to return some of the hospitality which he and his people had received from the sub-base personnel. He kept a close watch on the Terrible Twins, a joint nickname which Shirl and Darleen had quite suddenly acquired, making no further attempt to entertain Selenai Shaw aboard his ship. (But her own quarters were quite adequate for purposes of mutual entertainment and she did not, as she could quite well have done, put him off by complaining that she had a severe headache.) And then, with cargo well stowed, with all necessary in-port maintenance completed, it was time to lift off. Nobody board the ship was sorry, even though there were a few (very temporarily) broken hearts both in the sub-base and aboard Sister Sue. Sleth was such a dismal planet. Even New Otago would be better. Even though there was a shortage of bright lights on that world the scenery was said to be quite spectacular and the atmosphere was usually clear enough for it to be appreciated.

So Sister Sue lifted, ungumming herself from the omnipresent mud that, despite the thrice daily deployment of high pressure hoses, inevitably crept over the spaceport apron. She clattered aloft through the fog, through the overcast, finally broke free into the dazzling sunlight while the last tenuous shreds of the Sleth atmosphere whispered along her pitted sides.

There was the usual trajectory setting routine, after which the old ship, her Mannschenn Drive running as sweetly as that Space-Time-twisting contraption ever ran, was falling down and through the warped dimensions toward the New Otago primary. Deep space watches were set and Grimes went down to his day cabin, asking Mr. Steerforth to join him there. As soon as the chief officer was seated and had been given a drink to nurse, served by the glittering Seiko, Grimes used the intercom to talk to the chief reaction drive engineer. "Ms. Scott, I've noticed that my shower is giving trouble. I almost got scalded this morning. Could you send Ms. Perkins up to fix it? She's off watch, isn't she?"

"I'll come myself, Captain. You know what Calamity Cassie's like."

"I do, Flo. But as fourth engineer she's supposed to be the ship's plumber. It's time that she started to earn her pay."

"Well, it's your shower, Captain. It's you that's going to get boiled or flash-frozen . . . ."

And so, after a wait of only a few minutes, Ms. Perkins presented herself, attired for work in overalls that had once been white but which now displayed a multitude of ineradicable grease stains, carrying a tunefully clinking tool bag. Only her teeth, which her cheerful grin displayed generously in her black face, were clean and very white.

"Sit down, Cassie," ordered Grimes.

Before she could do so Seiko produced, as though from nowhere, a towel which the robomaid spread over the upholstery of the chair. The fourth engineer looked admiringly at the beautiful automaton and murmured, "I'd love to have the job of taking you apart and putting you together again, honey."

"That'd be the Sunny Friday!" snapped Seiko.

"My father," said Grimes, "improved upon the original programming, making additions from his own vocabulary."

"And so Seiko," said Cassie, "is no more than a sort of mechanical parrot. That I will not believe. She's as human as you or me." She grinned. "There are even rumors that you and she have a beautiful relationship."

"I am the captain's personal servant," said Seiko stiffly. "Just that and nothing more. Unfortunately a relationship of a carnal nature would not be possible."

Grimes' prominent ears flushed angrily.

He said, "That will do, Seiko. Just fetch Ms. Perkins a drink, will you?"

"Yassuh, Massa Grimes. One Foster's lager a-comin' up, Missie Perkins."

"And now, Ms. Perkins," said Grimes as soon as Seiko had left them, "have you decided upon how you will carry out your act of sabotage?"

"Yes, sir. It will be quite simple. A disastrous leakage from the main water tank into the reaction drive engineroom. The bulkhead will give way—an area of it will have been treated with Softoll—to give it its trade name—which, as you know loosens molecular bonds in any metal. According to my calculations the application will take twelve hours to produce the desired effect. When you let me know the day, sir, when you wish the accident to happen I shall apply the Softoll at 1000 hours, during my watch. The flood will happen at 2200 hours—again during my watch. I shall panic. My one motivation will be to get rid of all that water. After all, there's electrical machinery that could be damaged, and I might get drowned. I'll open the dump valves."

"Make sure, Cassie," Steerforth told her, "that you get into your emergency suit before you start getting rid of everything of a fluid nature in the engine room. After all, you'll be throwing out the atmosphere along with the bath water."

She grinned. "I look after my reputation. Things always happen around me, never to me."

Grimes asked, "But won't the cause of the so-called accident be obvious? Flo and Juanita aren't fools, you know."

She told him, "It will be put down to metal fatigue—and it won't be the first case of metal fatigue in this rustbucket."

"Are you referring to my ship?" asked Grimes stiffly. "It's bad enough to have you doing things to her without having to listen to you insulting her."

"Sorry, Captain. But unless you can think of some other kind of trouble that will force us to deviate to Salem, I shall have to do things to your ship. But I'll try to keep the damage down to a minimum." She finished her beer. "And now," she went on brightly, "shall I fix your shower for you?"

"No," said Grimes. "No, repeat and underscore, NO."

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Framed