Read John Maddox Roberts - Space Angel for Free Online Page B

drunk, but I didn't know he was a saboteur."
    "Old Krilencu was kind of peculiar," Ham admitted impassively. "He always seemed to know how much of everything there was, and where it was. He just sort of carried everything around in his head."
    "Including an ever increasing load of rocket cleaner."
    "Nobody said you were going to have an easy job. If you wanted one, you should've shipped on a line vessel." With that, the mate clicked the communicator off.
    Torwald glared at the speaker for a moment, then turned to Kelly. "We might as well get started. First, we sort. Clear out a section against that bulkhead opposite the hatch, and we'll put all the planetside equipment there."
    During her peregrinations about the galaxy, the Space Angel had picked up an incredible assortment of gear, most of which Kelly didn't recognize. There were collapsible tents, heaters, ice axes, machetes, sonic insect-repellers, backpacks, saws, surveying instruments, tools of every sort, and underwater breathing apparatus, cold-weather survival gear, respirators, poisonous-gas filters—things to keep humans alive and working in a hundred environments. There was much more. It all presented an appalling spectacle.
    "We've got to catalog all this?"
    "No, Kelly you're going to sort. I'll catalog. If you're going to learn spacing, this is the place to learn it. Everything that goes into running the ship passes through this department sooner or later. The quartermaster's responsible for all materiel exclusive of cargo. If Nancy needs some wiring for her communications gear, she'll find it here. If the bridge needs new chart thimble blanks, I'll have to order them. Michelle runs the galley, but I'll be buying the rations when we're in port. The quartermaster keeps records of all issues and returns of gear, all expenditures of fuels and perishables—the worksl That, of course, apparently didn't apply to my distinguished predeces
    sor.
    "I didn't think the job was so complicated." Kelly was clearly intimidated.
    "They're all complicated. With luck, we may have this department under control by the time we reach the edge of the solar system and can kick in the Whoopee Drive."
    "When will that be?" asked Kelly.
    "About two months, this trip."
    "That long? Does it take so long to get out of every system?"
    "Depends on the star and where you're starting from, Kelly. Two months is about average."
    Kelly was a little disheartened. He had pictured a spacer's life involving landings on dozens of planets every year. He hadn't realized there would be so much waiting. "It seems like a long time between planets."
    "Don't worry. You won't get bored. We'll keep you occupied."
    Torwald proved as good as his word. Kelly spent the better part of the next two ship-months getting the supply room in order, and more was involved than just sorting and shelving. The youth found that Torwald wanted every piece of equipment in perfect working order. There were cleaning and repairing to do. Worn parts had to be replaced, and where no replacements were available, Torwald would fabricate them in the machine shop adjoining the supply room. When the two had finished sorting and refurbishing, every piece of string was accounted for, every axe and machete polished and sharpened. A fair start had been made on the records, but that task at times seemed hopeless. Items listed on the old inventories had disappeared without record, and others seemed to have appeared, equally without documentation. Kelly
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    had to keep duplicate notes on everything, because Torwald said that he didn't trust any ship's computer that could allow such outrages.
    On the occasions when he could be spared from his supply room duties, Kelly pulled all the scut details for the other departments. He was rapidly putting the "adventure" of spacing in its proper place—it was difficult to find or nonexistent. The crew, treated him with varying degrees of interest. Nancy had not spoken ten words to him since their encounter