Nimisha's Ship

"On a bun, please, with what d'you call it… the red sauce…" Casper said, waving one hand as if to drag the lost word out of the air.

"Ketchup," said Cater, who could respond to any catering question.

"What is it?" Timmy was slightly dubious.

"High protein and tender enough to chew with no problem," Jonagren replied.

"I'd like to try it, please," Timmy said, popping the last of the sandwich into his mouth.

This time Casper collected the plate and the aroma of charcoal-broiled meat wafted through the room.

"I wouldn't mind one of those myself," Jonagren said, and Nimisha realised that all the sandwiches had been eaten. "Medium rare." There was such an expression of wistful anticipation on his face that Nimisha suspected all the indigenous meat had been well done or destroyed to sear parasites out of the flesh. That much she remembered from her survival lessons: You cooked any unknown meat very well or abstained.

"I could manage a small one myself," Casper said. "Rare, please, Cater!"

Nimisha chuckled behind her hand as they hastily strode to collect their latest orders. There were looks of total satisfaction as they began to consume the burgers.

"More ketchup, please, Cater?" Casper began, but when he started to rise, Nimisha signalled him to remain seated and collected the tube from the dispenser.

They said nothing as they ate, just as hungrily as if they hadn't cleared away a dozen sandwiches between them.

"It is good," Timmy said, licking his lips and his fingers as he finished his portion. "Thank you, ma'am," he added with a little bow in her direction and then one in Cater's.

"We didn't want him growing up a barbarian," Casper said in a low voice for Nimisha's ears only,

"He's charming," Nimisha said. "I know. I've met many who are not as well mannered as Tim is."

The boy sat back, rubbing his stomach, and suddenly looked around. "Is Syrie still asleep?"

"Syrie's in the medical unit," Nimisha said quickly. "Her leg's being straightened."

"Oh, she'll be so happy," Timmy said. "Jon did the best he could." He shot a grateful glance at the captain.

"I ought to have waited until she was conscious, but we were low on any analgesics by that time," Jonagren said, his tone bleak, "and we decided it was kinder to try to set the leg while she was out. I'm a much better cook than medic."

"The leg is now straight, sir," Doc said. "You didn't do a half bad job for a novice. I would surmise that the bones slipped slightly before you could splint it. You'd no regen gel left?"

"No, we didn't." The animation that Jonagren had shown, joking with Casper and eating, abruptly disappeared.

"Let me take you on a tour of the ship," Nimisha said, breaking the awkward silence. "It's more spacious than you'd imagine."

"Private cabins, even," Casper said admiringly.

"I wasn't constrained by fleet regulations, Casper," Nimisha said, leading them past the admired accommodations.

"How many can she sleep?" Jonagren asked.

"Six singles, but sleeping platforms extend to double size," she said, feeling an unexpected rush of blood to her face. Fortunately she was leading and hoped no one noticed. "Two washrooms but, as you saw, each cabin has a separate head unit."

"A real toilet, Casper said," Timmy said in a chirp. "Not like the head on the shuttle-but we can't use that any more."

She showed them the various storage units and then the upper deck hydroponics garden that featured the usual broadleaf plants that were essential to a space-going vessel's air health.

"Some of these are Terran varieties," Jonagren said, and named pumpkin, squash, and the ti plant. "Do I see carrot tops?"

"You do. Good for eyesight," Nimisha said.

"And gravelot from Vega, if I don't miss my guess," Jonagren said, fingering the furry silvery leaf of the plant. "That's hardy enough to last even when air temp's down to near freezing. Saved many a crew from carbon-dioxide poisoning."

"That's why it's included," Nimisha said. "We've a second hydro unit on the lower deck."

They spent more time, as she had expected looking around in engineering, asking all kinds of questions that showed their own expertise and Fleet experience.

"I've manuals for every aspect of the Fiver if you'd like to see them."

"I certainly would," Jonagren said, rising from a crouch by the drive console, his knees cracking.

"You need more oil in your diet," Doc said, surprising them.

"Does he listen in to everything?"

"Everything that happens to be even vaguely medical," Nimisha said. "I can shut him off if you like."

"What? And risk annoying the medic?" Casper made his eyes wide with dismay at the mere thought, while Jonagren dismissed the idea with quick gestures of both hands.

"If you knew how good it is to hear different voices…" he said. "This is some sweet ship, ma'am."

"Nimisha," she corrected him.

Jonagren nodded acceptance. "You're quite a designer, but you called it the Fiver, so it's not your first?"