Prosperous: Chutes & Ladders
Chapter 2

21 April 2660

CAPTAIN TRUMAN ‘TRU’ BARNET WAS TALL AND LEAN, ATHLETIC. His blue eyes were light enough that even in the darkest room therewas no mistake as to how blue they were. His light brown hair had that magicbeauty that men are often graced with, and women often envy. Tru’s naturalbeauty made him popular among women, and men. When he smiled and turned on hischarm, there weren’t many species he’d encountered who could resist. Of course,that trick was one he’d learned in his previous profession as axeno-psychiatrist, and it had come in handy on several occasion. It was evenmore effective with his easy going, often jovial, nature.

However, today, he was not feeling jovial. He stared at the 8x 10 doc-slip he held in his hand which gave him the list of his new MerchantRaitor crew, and unfortunately, more information than he cared to know abouteach of them. The glowing text listed mostly aliens, but regardless of race,nearly everyone on it had citations, arrests, restraining orders, mentaldisorders, and pages and pages of remarks of insubordination. Some ran eight ormore screens.

Perhaps they thoughtbecause I’m a xeno-psychiatrist I would want this crew. Tru considered that for a moment. No. It’s because I’m the youngest captain in Merchant Raitor andsomeone thought this would be a great initiation.

He looked up at Admiral Greg Larson. Larson was a small man,just at one point five meters, and sitting behind his large desk he lookedsmaller. He was getting up in age and his gray, thinning hair held testament tothat. His dark blue eyes watched Tru with open expectancy.

Was he expecting Tru to fly off the handle? Tru had lostcount how many times he’d witnessed Merchant Raitor captains throw tempertantrums (in his professional opinion) when things didn’t go their way. But whywould Larson, who had known Tru since he was six, think that of him? Trureserved his ‘flying off the handle’ moments for really important events – likewhen he learned his parents died in a shuttle explosion or when his husbandconfessed infidelity for their entire marriage. His easy going attitude wasconsidered unusual for a half human, half Silerium.

To be a Silerium was like being of African origin and livingin the southern United States during the early nineteen hundreds. Sileriumswere children of Lunar miners who mined the mineral of the same name — it was amineral critical to reinforcing the hulls of space ships and spaceports. Likethe miners who had once mined coal on Earth hundreds of years ago, these minerscouldn’t get away from the mineral. It slipped into their homes, their clothes,their bodies – and their DNA. It caused mutations in infants which manifestedinto psychic abilities, and caused humans and other species todiscriminate them. During the years Truman practiced as a xeno-psychiatrist, hehad treated Silerium patients and knew just how emotionally unstable some couldbe. Yet most, like his father, never displayed emotional instability.

None of that changed the present fact and getting a littleemotional right now might be the only thing that would fix the problematicmanifest.

Tru cleared his throat. Quietly he pointed out to Larson, “Irequested a human crew for my first stint, Greg, and I filed that request twodays before deadline. Why did I get a xeno crew?”

Larson frowned, looking at his own doc-slip. “I justcouldn’t make it happen on such short notice, Truman. I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t owning my own ship mean I can have the crew I requested?”

“Owning your own ship gets you a larger paycheck, betterretirement pension, more benefits, and you get to choose your stints. MerchantRaitor has control over everything else, including who is on your crew.”

“Isn’t there a regulation against sending a captainout with a xeno crew on his or her firststint?”

“No. Are you saying you can’t handle them?”

“This crew is a disaster waiting to happen, Greg.”

Larson smiled as he leaned forward on his desk. “I told themyou could handle this crew because of your father.”

Tru’s eyebrows drifted up. “What does Dad have to do withthis?”

“Right after we received word your captain had been killedin the marauder attack, and you were in command of his ship, he took me todinner and demanded I recommend you for captain. He said it would be a perfectmarriage of your two loves, and that you would be the one captain that couldturn bad crewmen around. And I agree. Of all the captains under me, I know youwill not do something damn foolish with your ship or crew and you can cope withthem.”

“Gracie wouldn’t let me do something damn foolish with herand I disagree. I want a different crew, Greg.”

“If you were to officially request one, I’dhave to remark that you refused command of this crew, as you noted, your first crew, on your service record and it would be months before I could arrange a replacement, all human, crew. All cargo routes are booked for the next seven months and allcrews have been assigned.”

Tru didn’t want that kind of a remark in his record and hedidn’t want to wait seven months to ship out.

Deflated he replied, “Then I’ll see you in seven months,sir.” Tru started to stand.

“Not yet. There are a few issues with this crew that we needto discuss.”

Tru sank back into the chair. “Such as?”

“About these bunk arrangements…” Larson tapped the screen onhis doc-slip.

Tru changed screens on his doc-slip. A deep frown creasedhis brow.

“Who did this?” Tru asked.

“Your First Executive Officer, Amanda Wrigley. We discoveredshe has issues we were previously unaware of.”

Tru looked up. Suspiciously he asked, “What kind of issues?”

“I don’t know for sure, but she does not handle stressfulsituations well. I saw it myself during the promotion banquet last week.”

“What happened?”

“Her last captain, Emery Lewis, showed up drunk. He startedridiculing her for always running when things got rough and that the onlyreason he promoted her was to get her off his ship. She started arrangingdishes and clearing tables, and became extremely agitated. He grabbed her armand she started screaming and hitting. Two officers pulled him off and she ranout of the room. To be honest, I didn’t expect her to show up when herassignment was issued, but apparently she’s waiting on the ISS for you.”

“And this condition is undiagnosed?”

Larson nodded. “After Lewis sobered up, I asked him aboutwhat he said. He told me she became irrational and hid in her room whensituations became stressful. He couldn’t rely on her to take command of theship when he was off ship. She snapped at crew and everyone on board hatedher.”

“And she hasn’t seen anyone for her condition?”

“Not anyone in Merchant Raitor. I’ve heard she’s visitedwith a doctor on Mars, but it may just be a friend and not to help her.”

Tru tried to wrap his head around the information. “She’shad to have gone through a dozen captains. How is this just now be discovered?”

“My best guess is that her other captains did the same thingLewis did; they promoted her to get her out of their hair.”

“Lewis shouldn’t even be a captain,” Tru growled. “He’s analcoholic and dangerous.”

“We’re not the military, Tru. As long as the cargo gets toits destination on time and no one gets killed, it’s our policy not to careabout a captain or crewman’s disorders or addictions.”

“Now that’s an intelligent stance,” Tru shot back. “Is my XOgood at anything?”

“She was a high school science teacher before she enteredMerchant Raitor and specialized in botany when she enlisted.”

“So my XO has an unknown condition, knows plants, and canteach? Can’t wait to meet my second officer.”

“You don’t have one.”

“What?”

“He was extradited this morning for selling controlledsupplies to the Gwiraten, all other Second Officers have been assigned, and thevery soonest another would be available is in seven months. On the upside,because you’re shipping out without a second officer on your first stint, aslong as there are no more than the average number of complaints filed againstyou, you’ll be able to choose whether or not to have one at any time.”

“That isn’t a benefit at this time, sir. You know that.”

Larson offered an apologetic shrug.

Tru sighed before asking, “Is there anyone on this crew that doesn’thave issues?”

“You have one of our top medical doctors, a decent shippsychiatrist, and I stole the best cook in the fleet away from Captain Ric’ta.You’ll have good health, a sound mind, and a full stomach.”

Tru pressed his lips into a thin line. With a flat voice hereplied, “That hardly compensates for this crew.”

Larson smiled apologetically. “I know, but on such shortnotice, I did the best I could.”

“I can’t ship out until these bunk assignments are changed,or my crew will kill each other. I need a twenty-four hour delay.”

Larson nodded. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll make it afour day delay and contact the Righel Prime spaceport authority myself.”

“Thank you. What else?”

“That’s all. You’re going to do fine, Truman. Fly safe.”

“Thanks, Greg.” Tru left Larson’s office, frowning at thedocket.

Tru headed for the transport room.