Free Strands of Sorrow by John Ringo Page A

light duty right now. When Captain Wilkes gets back, you can see him about the flight physical issue. I wouldn’t suggest putting you in a bird until you’re cleared on the baby thing. After that . . . somebody else will have to decide how to handle it. Fortunately, our one MD may be learning the baby thing, but his actual PhD is in astrophysiology. Should know the requirements. Any other questions, ma’am?”
    “No,” Nicola said.
    “Here’s your profile,” the corpsman said, pulling off a receipt and handing her a pill bottle. “And some neonatal vitamins for what they’re good for at this point. For what it’s worth, again, you look like one of the ones who has done okay. Baby seems healthy as hell. You’re healthy. It all looks good. Which is much better than some of the stuff I’ve seen, ma’am.”
    “Thanks,” Nicola said.
    “Now I’ve got a slew more of these, ma’am,” the corpsman said. “If you’ll excuse me?”
    * * *
    “Lieutenant,” the woman behind the desk said, pointing at her screen. “This service record is a sight for sore eyes. Squadron has been screaming for qualified pilots and aviation maintenance people and you’re both. The only problem will be deciding which is more important.”
    “Glad you think so,” Nicola said. “I’m not too sure about a cross-service transfer to the Navy.”
    “We’re getting more Army personnel now that we’re clearing land areas,” the woman said. “But for right now, we’re consolidating to Navy and Marine until there’s a skeleton of Army personnel to set it back up.”
    “I suppose that makes some sense,” Nicola said. “But I personally don’t think I should be flying at the moment, though. I have to pee every ten minutes.”
    “Tell me about it,” the civilian said. “I’ve left a note for Captain Wilkes to look you up. Right now you have three days to get comfortable with being back in civilization, such as it is. After that we’ll find a slot for you. Company grade cabin space is at a premium. You’ve got a choice of interior solo, for now, or exterior shared. If you’re sharing, it will probably be with an O-1 or O-2.”
    “Exterior, shared,” Nicola said.
    “Either of the Bobbsey Twins it is,” the woman said. “Would you prefer your roommate to be a fellow, if extremely junior, pilot, Navy ensign, or a vicious, psychotic, zombie-killing Marine second lieutenant?”
    “You make the choice so difficult,” Nicola said, laughing. “I’ll take the Navy pilot.”
    “Shewolf isn’t that bad,” the woman said. “Once you get to know her. Which you will. You eventually get to know everybody in this gypsy band, and Shewolf and Seawolf are two of the main stars. Okay, you’re bunking with Seawolf. Room One-Seventeen, Marquee deck. It’s right by the helo pad ready room.”
    “Okay,” Nicola said, taking the room key.
    “The key acts as temporary ID as well as rations and materials draw,” the woman said. “I don’t know if you want to hit your room, first, or the clothing store. Despite your being an officer, due to exigencies of conditions all uniforms and rations are issue rather than pay. Because that basically is the pay. There are some Navy maternity uniforms. Another reason to have people Navy or Marines is those are the uniforms we’ve got. You also get to draw civilian clothing. You don’t have to be in uniform until the third day of your three days off. Day three, report to the S1 at oh-nine-hundred hours in uniform.”
    “Roger,” Nicola said.
    “Welcome back, Lieutenant,” the woman said.
    “You seem to be pretty experienced at this,” Nicola said.
    “I was a Navy dependent for thirty-two years,” the woman said. “And a civilian DOD employee for a good bit of that. I know the dance. When you get some downtime in your room, I’d suggest you sit down and watch three videos. The usual series is the Welcome to Wolf Squadron video first, but I’d save that for last. Watch the Cruise Liner