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Updated: July 15, 2025
"G'night, Chief," said Mike the Angel. "Night, sir," said Multhaus. "See you in the morning." "Yeah. Night." Mike trudged toward the companionway that led toward the wardroom. If Keku or Jeffers happened to be there, he'd have a quick round of Uma ni to.
When Mike the Angel opened the door of the Power Section's instrument room, he came upon a strange sight. Lieutenant Keku and Chief Multhaus were seated across a table from each other, each with his right elbow on the table, their right hands clasped. The muscles in both massive arms stood out beneath the scarlet tunics. Neither man was moving. "Games, children?" asked Mike gently. Whap!
Keku went over it with a jack, but Mike took it with his deuce of diamonds. He led the seven of spades to get back in dummy so he could use up those clubs. Dummy took the trick with the six of diamonds, and led out with the four of clubs. Mike figured that Keku must absolutely must have the king of hearts. Both his take-out double and von Liegnitz' heart lead pointed toward the king in his hand.
Tell him we'll be up as soon as we've taken care of Mellon." "Right," said von Liegnitz, massaging his bruised shoulder. "Okay, Keku," said Mike, "forward march." Lieutenant Keku thumbed the opener to Mellon's stateroom, shoved the door aside, stepped in, and slapped at the switch plaque. The plates lighted up, bathing the room in sunshiny brightness. "Dump him on his sack," said Mike.
As a full commander, he could overlook Vaneski's impoliteness to his superiors without ignoring it as Keku was doing. "Ah, but the brain won't be unloaded, Mister Vaneski," he said mildly. "The ship will be dismantled which is an entirely different thing. I'm afraid you can't call it a cargo ship on those grounds." Vaneski didn't say anything.
"You'd better get hold of the Physician's Mate," Mike told Quill. "He's not in good condition, either mentally or physically." "Very well. As soon as the mate takes over, you and Mister Keku get up here. I want to know what the devil has been going on aboard my ship." "You are bloody well not the only one," said Mike the Angel. Midnight, ship time.
They could drive the Brainchild no faster. They simply settled down to a steady growl and pushed the ship at a steady velocity through what the mathematicians termed "null-space." The Brainchild was on her way. "What I want to know," said Lieutenant Keku, "is, what kind of ship is this?" Mike the Angel chuckled, and Lieutenant Mellon, the Medical Officer, grinned rather shyly.
Still, there might be another way out. Mike threw in the ace from dummy. Keku tossed in his seven, and Mike threw in his own deuce. He took the next trick with the ace of clubs from dummy, and the singleton eight in his own hand. The one after that came from dummy, too; it was the king of clubs, and Mike threw in the heart six from his own hand. From dummy, he led the three of clubs.
"Will the Chief Physician's Mate report to Commander Jeffers in the maintenance tool room? Lieutenant Keku, dismiss your men to quarters and report to the bridge. Commander Gabriel, dismiss your men to quarters and report to Commander Jeffers in maintenance. All chief non-coms report to the ordnance room to turn in your weapons. All enlisted men return to your posts or to quarters."
Next to it were several sheets of blank paper and a small traveling clock sat on them as a paperweight. His clothing was hung neatly, in the approved regulation manner, with his shoes in their proper places and his caps all lined up in a row. Mike walked around the room, looking at everything. "What's the matter? What're you looking for?" asked Keku. "His liquor," said Mike the Angel.
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