Temporary Duty Read Free

around out the port. The trees around the exercise field were dropping away with no fuss or feeling of motion, like watching a movie. There was another arrowhead on Gell’s side; the pilot had it clutched in his left hand and was moving it with careful precision, and the one in front of Peters moved in sympathy. "Uh, shouldn’t we be fastening seat belts or something?"
    "Not necessary. In this situation the appropriate form of address is ‘Peters,’ correct?"
    "Uh, yes, sir, that’s correct." Nothing was visible out the windshield but blue sky. Peters gripped the arms of his seat firmly, but the shuttle might have been sitting on the ground if it hadn’t been for the views ahead and out the window at his side, the latter showing a line of horizon that dipped and swayed over blue sea.
    "As I thought," said the Ambassador, and shifted his attention to the younger sailor. "And you are Electronics Technician Aviation Third Class Kevin Todd, correct?"
    Todd started, looked away from the window, and flinched as Peters had. "Yes, sir, that’s right." The sky outside was noticeably darker.
    "Ah. Peters and Todd, I am Dreelig. Our custom is to have only a single name. Please do not say ‘sir’ to me. The formal address is most confusing." The Ambassador relaxed noticeably. "You have already met Gell, the pilot. My own profession is in some ways more complex. Your people describe it as ‘Ambassador,’ as you heard, but that word correctly means a post of much more importance than I truly hold. You might say ‘translator’ or even ‘salesman.’ Call me Dreelig."
    "Yes, sir, uh, I mean yes, Dreelig," Peters stammered. The sky outside was deep purple, almost black, and stars were starting to come out. Out the left window the horizon was distinctly curved, a sharp white line at the top, grading to blue below. He had seen it in pictures but had never expected to see it for real.
    "Do you understand why you are here?" Dreelig asked.
    The shuttle was rotating slowly to the right, and the horizon disappeared. Stars appeared, first looking fairly normal in a black sky, then more and more filling in the gaps until the view was all stars, like a faint overspray of white paint on a black surface. The rotation continued, bringing the Earth back into view, and Peters felt a moment of vertigo as his point of view changed. All his life, that had been
down
; suddenly it was
over there
, a difference he hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure he liked.
    He looked away from the window. "The call for volunteers said maintenance an’ preparation for deployment of Space Detachment One. I figured it meant cleanin’ and paintin’, gettin’ the berthin’ compartments shipshape."
    Dreelig nodded. "That’s correct as far as it goes," he said, "but you two are also something of an experiment for us."
    Neither sailor responded. Peters couldn’t; his gut was roiling in a way that had nothing to do with the motion of the shuttle, which still wasn’t perceptible. The view outside was nothing but stars drifting slowly by, downward from his point of view.
    "Your hierarchy is more complex than it seemed at first," Dreelig went on. "The technicians are having difficulties, and we on the negotiating team have noted problems as well. One of the technicians suggested that it might be useful to build relationships with individuals at a lower level, so as to gain insight into the workings of the system, and after some discussion we decided to try it. You are here as the result."
    "Hunh," Peters managed. Todd said nothing.
    Dreelig produced a complex facial expression, the corners of his mouth stretching outward, the two points where his upper lips met his facial cleft pulled up to expose white teeth.
Beaver
, Peters thought. "Don’t be concerned," the Grallt went on. "Your duties will be as you expected for the most part; we intend to observe and ask questions. For now, relax. It will be some time before we arrive at the ship." He exchanged a few words of