Chapter 7: Hamilton

“Auntie Martha!” Happy screams from two bouncing Munchkins, newly arrived at the Kuh’s homeport.

Martha Grayson, Governor of Azahar, stood to greet her returning friend. Inez Nadenka Key, I. N. Key, the extracted pop singer Inkie, known to the Tuull as S’Rndult T’Blssut, in English: ‘Principal Master of the Arts, Harmony’. With Inkie were Dinky and Armand, her adopted children who ran to Martha and her similarly aged daughter, Joan. The image of a beautiful woman, the AI Helva, came into being beside Inkie.

Martha knelt to hug the two youngsters, then stood and hugged Inkie. “So. You’re back in Darjee influenced space after your, second is it, sojourn to Tuull-at? Welcome Inkie and Helva. How did it go?”

“Oh Martha, I’m tired,” Inkie told her as the governor led her and the three children to a pint-sized table topped with cookies, cake, and hot chocolate. “The first go, explaining sex and romance to the Tuull was something else. They ‘knew’ humans are violent, but this visit I found that they have discovered murder, violence, and war in our music.”

“So I spent days discussing Tom Dooley, Frankie and Johnny, The Battle Hymn Of The Republic, Sink The Bismarck, Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, and even Wellington’s Victory and the 1812 Overture. And a whole lot more. There were some pretty hairy minutes in there dancing around the violence without causing mental anguish. These are a brave folk; they just can’t fathom deliberate violence against intelligent beings. They know it exists, but glorifying it in music or poetry ... It’s worse than porn in the middle of Sunday school.”

She paused, and reflected, “You know, they really ‘got’ songs like The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and The Wind Beneath My Wings, but Big Bad John with its violence over a Cajun Queen totally confused them. So I’m heading back to Earth to extract some musicologists and a variety of literature professors to help me explain. All the on-file textbooks and dissertations in existence don’t get the job done.”

“Then, there is an excited cadre of Tuull performers and academics that wants to bring a USO style performance to the humans ‘who are defending them.’ We’re struggling to find something appropriate and entertaining.” She looked steadily at Martha and told her, “I’m going to extract and bring back a professional company to perform Hamilton. Rhythm, music, heroism of differing sorts. If I can get past the duels, it just might help with both my ‘situations’.”

“And Martha, to top it all off, right before I left Tuull-at, some genius discovered YouTube and kitten videos. So now they want me to bring them kittens!”

Inkie halted and looked at the Governor, “I’m sure you’re interested in my challenges, but your message said that you needed a favor?”

“Well, now,” Martha began as she watched Joan act as the hostess and ‘pour tea’ for herself and the two other children seated around the table. “We received a message drone from the AI of one of our new ships declaring its captain murdered and its crew in mutiny. Only, when my admiral and I reviewed the recordings, that doesn’t seem to be the situation at all.”

She paused, “The ship’s maiden voyage was an unscheduled, urgent delivery mission that was to last for several months, and then the Kuh went missing. Even more troubling, one of our most competent and respected NCOs is the accused ringleader.”

“Without exception, my entire Marine and Navy contingents are completely in awe of Boatswain Arthur and are likely to side with her, even if the accusations prove true. A huge number of them have made her heir to their concubines.” She sighed, “I’m a little in awe of her myself. It’s a real conundrum.”

“I want a drum!” piped up Armand. “How big is a cun-drum?”

“It’s not a real drum,” Inkie told him. He nodded and went back to his plate, now reduced to half-full of cookies.

“I’m thinking that you want me, someone who knows nothing about her or the ship, to investigate and bring her back?” Inkie half questioned, half stated. “You realize that Helva carries no Marines or fighting personnel?”

“I was planning to requisition help through Targeted Extractions,” Inkie explained, “and I even left the majority of my normal contingent at Rukb-at so that I’d have room for more refugees. And I’m the only entity aboard, other than Helva, that knows astrogation.”

“Tell you what.” Martha told her, “The Bunte Kuh belongs to Azahar and has a lot of capacity. If you agree to help us with this mess, I’ll give her to you. She should be empty because she was returning home from ferrying urgent materiel and specialists to several colonies. She has a rookie crew, hybrid military and Fleet Auxiliary, a Marine detachment, and a very extraction-experienced Boatswain. I’m sure I can persuade our admiral to release any crew that you find acceptable, especially if you promise future replacements. You’d have plenty of capacity for your extraction, and the Harrad colony would have a new ship.”

Inkie gained time to think by asking Dinky for a cookie. While she considered, she nibbled with delight on the chocolate chip with cherries cookies.* Then, she faced Martha and told her, “There has to be a catch somewhere. Unless the ship and crew are truly flawed, I can’t find it.”

*Author’s Note: Recipe for chocolate chip with cherries cookies available upon request ... You’ll need to send me an email with your email address.

<Oh the governor gains a lot, > Helva finally spoke to them both. <She has an independent, unbiased, and respected officer to investigate the allegations. That would be Captain Inkie. She would have an independent AI, a Tuull AI, that’s me, evaluate the Darjee AI’s allegations and judgment in this situation. She can’t afford to have any appearance of sweeping this under a rug. So, tag, you’re it!>

<The bonus comes when you take the ship and crew off both her and the admiral’s hands and out of their sphere,” she added. “No crewmember discussions of mutiny if they aren’t here... >

The three children, having consumed every crumb of cookie and drop of chocolate, arrived at the stage where massive amounts of activity was needed to wear off the sugar and caffeine. Martha led the party down a hall to a well-appointed playroom where the parents unleashed the wound up children.

Then, with the adults seated on comfortable chairs, negotiations proceeded with a background of laughter and happy screeches.

The humans aboard the Bunte Kuh were bored. Objectively, they knew how much time they’d spent isolated from the remainder of the universe, but the days, hours, minutes, and seconds felt like the drops of water of the Chinese water torture.

Most had engaged in prolonged physical activity: sex, sports, sex, hand-to-hand combat practice, sex. Quite a few, Boats included, had taken as much sleep training/education as they could stand. These activities might have been denied them but for Clarence Darrow, who under prior instruction to represent and defend Boats, had ensured the crew’s continued access to the ship’s amenities. It had no access to operate the ship’s propulsion, navigation, or external communication systems, but it had taken over internal operations from the self-sequestered Bossie.

Things changed.

<A ship has arrived, Helva, and Bossie is communicating with her, > announced Clarence, and excitement spread throughout the Bunte Kuh.

Shortly, a new ‘voice’ sounded in volunteers’ heads and through concubine collars, <I am T’Krandit, the AI for the K’treel explorer AGX026. We are both known to Humans as Helva, and my captain is S’Rndult T’Blssut, or in English, ‘Principal Master of the Arts, Harmony’ and known to humans as Inkie.> Following Inkie’s advice, Helva was much more formal than her usual demeanor.

<I am acting at the request and under direction of your colony’s Governor Grayson and Fleet Command. Captain Pierce Masters is to report aboard for consultation with Captain Inkie. Boatswain Genevieve Arthur has been permanently reassigned and is to transfer aboard with all her property. I will dispatch my captain’s gig to arrive in one half hour.>

Both wondered. Why the gig and not a transporter?

At the appointed time, Helva’s gig mated with the Bunte Kuh’s docking lock. Pierce, Vivie, and her three concubines approached and waited for the lock to clear and open. As they arrived, the Captain and Boatswain were surprised and somewhat concerned to see the ship’s entire complement of Marines standing at attention in full dress uniform. When Boats entered the lock, the detachment snapped to attention and saluted. Then she was gone.

The party boarded Helva, and a uniformed, nubile beauty and the nude image of a tall, stunningly beautiful woman greeted them. Vivie could hardly take it in, because standing with them was her whole family, not only her own concubines and children, but also all those sponsors who were in her extended family. Inkie and Helva had been very shrewd and successful negotiators.

Inkie greeted the pair and turned to Pierce and said, “Captain Masters I need for you to excuse me for a few minutes as I need to begin in private with your accused Bo’sun.” She led Vivie to her private study.

“Boatswain Genevieve Arthur, are you ready to stop running with the boys?” Inkie began her interview, then seeing the clouded look on Vivie’s face, detoured from her intended opening statement. She smiled, “Lighten up, Boats. If your name were Inez Nadenka Key, Genevieve would be a blessing. This needs to be formal. There’s a reason. Now, Boatswain Genevieve Arthur, I’m not trying to minimize the slots you’ve filled, but you have command potential. No! You have command abilities and need to step up. Are you ready?”

“I’d come to that decision, myself,” Vivie told her, “if only to keep another idiot from being put in the slot. So the answer is yes. I, Bo’sun Genevieve Arthur without reservation accept your offer to move to the command track. Do I start as a midshipman or butter bar ensign?”

“Don’t sell yourself short! The Confederacy is overflowing with placeholders. Helva was sure that you’d come to the decision to step up to command,” Inkie responded. “She feels that the decision to off that jackass was a big reason your CAP jumped. Potential was realized.”

“Wait a minute! Have I been convicted of murder? Or mutiny?” Vivie asked.

<More likely justifiable homicide or community service beyond the call of duty, > Helva injected into the discussion. <But really, because you followed well-documented orders, you’d be acquitted. Sometimes the right action is not the strictly legal action. Too bad we can’t publicize it. Some fool would think mutiny was okay. Listen! I’ve reviewed your every statement and action in the purview of an AI, well, excepting your confidential discussions with Clarence. I’m confident that 8.9 is not the final CAP you will eventually achieve.>

Vivie’s head whipped around looking. Her eyes settled back on Inkie, “Hold it! You said ‘She feels’. AND. ‘Her’ explanation didn’t sound like any AI I ever knew. What’s this all about?”

Inkie sighed, “Before I tell you, I need your word not to repeat this to anyone, not even your family, unless I or Helva give the okay. That time will come. Trust me; I’m trusting you.”

“You have my word,” Vivie wryly told her, “I’m no stranger to secrets.”

“Yes, I’m very sure you are not,” Inkie responded. “What say we have a drink and a snack? I have a nice Moselle wine that’s not the replicated dreck you’re accustomed to.” Then realizing what she’d said, she burst into a giggling fit. “Dreck!” Giggle.