The Big Black Mark - A. Bertram Chandler [2]
Grimes started to get to his feet again.
"Hold it, Commander! I've some advice for you. Don't put a foot wrong. And try to lick that blasted Discovery into some sort of shape. If you do find any Lost Colonies play it according to the book. Let's have no more quixotry, none of this deciding, all by your little self, who are the goodies and who are the baddies. Don't take sides.
"That's all."
"You mean, sir," asked Grimes, "that this is some sort of last chance?"
"You said it, Commander. You said it. But just don't forget that the step from commander to captain is a very big one." The admiral shot out a big hand. Grimes took it, and was surprised and gratified by the warmth and firmness of the old man's grip. "Good hunting, Grimes. And good luck!"
Chapter 2
Grimes dismounted from the ground car at the foot of Discovery's ramp. The driver, an attractive blonde space-woman, asked, "Shall I wait for you, Commander?"
Grimes, looking up at the towering, shabby bulk of his new command, replied, "No, unfortunately."
The girl laughed sympathetically. "Good luck, sir."
"Thank you," he said.
He tucked his briefcase firmly under his arm, strode toward the foot of the ramp. He noted that the handrails were long unpolished, that a couple of stanchions were missing and that several treads were broken. There was a Marine sentry at the head of the ramp in a khaki uniform that looked as though it had been slept in. The man came to a rough approximation to attention as Grimes approached, saluted him as though he were doing him a personal favor. Grimes returned the salute with unwonted smartness.
"Your business, Commander?" asked the sentry.
"My name is Grimes. I'm the new captain."
The man seemed to be making some slight effort to smarten himself up. "I'll call Commander Brabham on the PA, sir."
"Don't bother," said Grimes. "I'll find my own way up to my quarters." He added, rather nastily, "I suppose the elevator is working?"
"Of course, sir. This way, sir."
Grimes let the Marine lead him out of the airlock chamber, along a short alleyway, to the axial shaft. The man pressed a button, and after a short interval, the door slid open to reveal the cage.
"You'll find all the officers in the wardroom, sir, at this time of the morning," volunteered his guide.
"Thank you." Then, "Hadn't you better be getting back to your post?"
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
Grimes pushed the button for CAPTAIN'S FLAT.
* * *
During the journey up he was able to come to further conclusions—none of them good—about the way in which the ship had been run. The cage was not quite filthy, but it was far from clean. The gloss of the panel in which the buttons were set was dulled by greasy fingerprints. On the deck Grimes counted three cigarette butts and one cigarillo stub. Two of the indicator lights for the various levels were not working.
He got out at the Captain's Flat, the doughnut of accommodation that surrounded the axial shaft, separated from it by a circular alleyway. He had a set of keys with him, obtained from the admiral's office. The sliding door to the day room opened as soon as he applied the appropriate strip of magnetized metal. He went in.
An attempt, not very enthusiastic, had been made to clean up after Commander Tallis' packing. But Tallis had not packed his art gallery. This consisted of a score of calendars, of the type given away by ship chandlers and ship-repair firms, from as many worlds, utterly useless as a means of checking day and date except on their planets of origin. Evidently Discovery's last census run had consisted of making the rounds of well-established colonies. Grimes stared at the three-dimensional depiction of a young lady with two pairs of overdeveloped breasts, indubitably mammalian and probably from mutated human stock, turned from it to the picture of a girl with less spectacular upperworks but with brightly gleaming jewelry entwined in her luxuriant pubic hair. The next one to catch his attention showed three people in one pose.
He grunted—not altogether in