Free Starfarers by Poul Anderson

date.”
    He stared as if she had slapped him. She laughed. “With Mamphela in the gym. We’ll trade teachings of old dances, Highland and Zulu.”
    He gaped. “Right after … getting back from space … the way you did?”
    “When would a girl more want to kick up her heels?” she answered joyfully, and left him.
    The engines of the plasma and zero-zero drives were aft in the inner hull. Most of their servicing facilities were nearby. However, the forward wheel held lesser workshops of various kinds, as well as laboratories. Its circumference gave ample room.
    Passing by one of these, Chief Engineer Yu Wenji heard sounds through the door, opened it, and went in to see. Alvin Brent, her second, sat hunched over a table, at work on a circuit board. Tools and materials lay scattered before him. A faint ozone pungency in the air spoke of an ion torch lately used. Computer screens displayed diagrams.
    “What are you doing?” Yu asked.
    Brent twisted around on his stool. For an instant he glowered. She stood her ground, a short, sturdy woman with blunt features between high cheekbones, bronzy complexion, black hair swept up and held by a comb. Her embroidered jacket and blue trousers seemed to rebuke his soiled work clothes.
    He smoothed the irritation off his face and said carefully, “I’ve worked out an idea for an improvement in our missile launch control. Minor, but it could make a difference someday. Now I’m putting together the hardware. There’ll be time on this cruise to install and test it.”
    She stiffened. “You told me nothing about this.”
    “I saw no reason to, ma’am. It’s not connected to your engines. Not your responsibility.”
    “Every apparatus aboard and every program to run it is my responsibility. Bad enough that we carry weapons—”
    “How do you know we won’t need them?” he interrupted.
    She sighed. “I don’t, of course. But I cannot believe that civilizations thousands or millions of years old continue suchobscene follies.” Coldly: “You will consult me in advance about any further ideas you may have, Mr. Brent. Meanwhile you will stop this project until I have evaluated it.”
    “What harm?” he protested. “You’d have known before I tried anything. Everybody would have.”
    “I would not have had an opportunity to analyze it for any effects on the entire, integrated system. Have you thought of every possibility? Furthermore, this is a matter of principle. You cannot decide unilaterally what use of your time is best for the ship.”
    He slammed the board down on the table. “Use?” he exploded. “What do you expect me to do? Stand idle like another of your machines till you feel like switching me on?”
    She lifted a palm and replied with quick mildness, “I have wondered if you would care to teach our shipmates something of what you know and can do, in case you suffer misfortune. I need not explain to you the value of redundancy. We do not have nearly enough.”
    “Who in this gang of freaks has that kind of talent?”
    “Why, surely Mate Ruszek, Pilot Kilbirnie, and Dr. Dayan, at least. Probably more. They will be wanting worthwhile occupation on our journey. We all will.”
    “You the most,” broke from him.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You probably have more need to forget than anyone else does. Or do you imagine your precious Chinese culture will still be here when we get back?”
    “That will do, Mr. Brent,” she clipped.
    He swallowed, stood up as if at attention, and conceded stiffly, “I apologize, ma’am. I shouldn’t have said that.”
    Again she softened. “Well, but you are under stress. We must not make it worse. If you will prepare a report on this device of yours, I will be glad to review it and, if it has merit, discuss it with the captain. Good daywatch.”
    Before he could reply, she turned and left. Her strides down the corridor were quick but not entirely even. Tears glimmered in her eyes. She blinked them away.
    Presently she