Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [50]
Looking up, she saw Pierzynski, a big, blond security officer, standing there with a tray full of something hot and steaming.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked.
Wu indicated the chair opposite hers. “Please do.”
“Thanks,” said Pierzynski.
He put his food down and folded himself into the chair. Then he glanced at the second officer’s tray.
“Not very hungry?” he asked.
“Not especially,” she replied. “But then, I’ve never been a very big eater.”
The security officer nodded. “I’ve always been the opposite. After I’m done with this plate, I’ll probably go back and get another one. Fast metabolism, I guess.”
Wu smiled. “So it would seem.”
For all his vaunted appetite, Pierzynski didn’t seem especially interested in his food. “Have we heard anything from the captain?” he asked.
It seemed to be the question on everyone’s mind. But then, given Picard’s popularity, it would have been surprising if it had been otherwise.
Wu could only imagine the crew’s response if they knew the captain hadn’t reported in yet, many hours after his intended rendezvous.
She shook her head. “Not yet. But we believe that we’ll hear something soon.”
Pierzynski nodded. “Good.”
And he dug into his meal. But from Wu’s point of view, the security officer still looked like a man with something on his mind. It occurred to her that his request to sit with her might not have been an entirely casual one.
Finally, he sat back and wiped his mouth. Then, in what seemed like an intentionally offhand manner, he said, “Actually, there’s something I’d like to ask you about.”
Ah-hah, Wu thought. “And what would that be?”
Pierzynski took a deep breath, then said, “As you know, I’ve been a security officer for three years now—two on the Lantree and one on the Reliant.”
“Yes,” she said, “I’m aware of that.” She made a point of knowing her crew’s personnel files backward and forward.
Pierzynski went on. “When we left spacedock, I was Lieutenant Ang’s right-hand man. At least, that’s how it seemed to me.”
Wu saw where he was going. “However, the captain made Mister Joseph acting security chief when Lieutenant Ang left the ship.”
Pierzynski nodded. “I like Lieutenant Joseph. I think he’s doing a great job. And even if he weren’t, I wouldn’t try to stab him in the back or anything.”
Just then, the second officer saw Ensign Jiterica enter the mess hall. Passing the food slot, she found a table and sat down by herself.
Of course, the Nizhrak didn’t eat food. Lacking the organs typical of a humanoid digestive system, she couldn’t have consumed anything even if she had wanted to.
As Wu watched, the ensign started working on a personal display device, using the bulky fingers of her containment suit with a dexterity she couldn’t have exhibited when she first came aboard the Stargazer. No doubt, she was continuing some bit of work she had begun during her last shift in the science section.
Of course, seeing Jiterica with that device in hand was nothing new. She brought it to the mess hall every day, just as soon as she was relieved of her post.
The second officer smiled, knowing it was she who originally suggested that the ensign bring the device with her to the mess hall. Indeed, it was she who suggested that Jiterica come to the mess hall in the first place.
It had started out as a personal invitation—a way for Wu and Jiterica to get to know each other better, at least on the face of it. But really, it was an attempt to introduce the ensign to the social life of the crew.
It turned out to be a disaster—at least partly because of the design of the mess-hall chairs. Built for humanoids, they had prevented Jiterica from sitting comfortably and added to her self-consciousness instead of relieving it.
A huge disaster, Wu amended.
But she had still believed in the need for the ensign to be in the mess hall, so she placed a more containment-suit-friendly chair in the room. That helped.
And after Jiterica’s work on the rescue of the Belladonna, she had gotten more positive attention from her colleagues in the science section. That