Temporary Duty Read Online Free

unidentifiable machinery sat here and there in no discernible order, and many of the alcoves were filled with a miscellany of equipment and junk.
    "This is not reassuring," said Todd, gesturing at the clutter.
    "You got that right," Peters agreed with some force. "If the rest of the boat’s as sloppy as this is, we may not live to regret comin’ along."
    "Pretty out the door, though," Todd observed.
    "Shit, I been tryin’ not to look." The hole they had entered through was still open, a crescent of the Earth intruding on the upper left-hand corner, stars shining elsewhere.
    "Isn’t the air supposed to be kinda thin out there?" Todd persisted.
    Peters shrugged. "Magic, I reckon. Look alive, here they come."
    The two Grallt had finished their talk, body language making them a pair but not a couple. Peters and Todd hefted their bags and stepped down off the wing, finding the deck a bit slippery, as if the nonskid was too worn to be effective any more.
    Dreelig gestured toward the newcomer. "I introduce you to Dee. She will show you to your quarters and tell you something about the ship."
    "Hello, Dee," said Peters, looking her over. The female Grallt was wearing a tunic and trousers of something satiny, blue above and yellow below; she was about Todd’s height, slender, and very nicely shaped, at least below the neck.
    "Pleasant greetings, Peters," she said, her voice much deeper than expected, a musical baritone. "Welcome aboard
Llapaaloapalla
. You are Todd?" When Todd nodded, she continued, "Welcome aboard also. Please follow me."
    "Sure," said Peters. "Thanks for the guidance," he said to Dreelig. "See you again."
    "That will probably happen," Dreelig agreed with a nod. He walked away toward the entrance of the bay, aft they supposed, and Peters turned back to Dee. "Lead on, lady."
    "This way." Dee led them to starboard, or at least away from the big hatches, to a people-sized hatch with an oval porthole at eye level. She worked the latch, a big handle that swung thirty degrees with a squeal and clank, and stepped aside to let them through.
    Light came from glowing bare tubes supported by the ends in pairs, a little thicker than standard fluorescents, and a stairway, more like the ones in an office building than a ship’s ladder, led upward. The Grallt pushed past them, gestured at the stairs, and led in that direction, and the sailors followed, grunting under the weight of their seabags.
    Two decks up they entered a corridor running lengthwise in the ship. Doors, all closed, interrupted the walls at about four meter intervals. Dee opened the first of these on the right, to reveal a small room or suite whose most outstanding feature was a window with rounded corners, now displaying stars. "These will be your quarters if you find them satisfactory," she said.
    Windows on a ship? In enlisted berthing?
Peters forced himself to look away. The room was about four meters by three, dusty from disuse, with low bunks to left and right, metal wall lockers, and a desk with reading lamp and chair. The bunks weren’t made. To the left, by the head of the bunk, was another door. "This is great," he said. "We don’t live like this on our ships, except maybe officers."
    "Yes, I know," said Dee. "They described your normal living quarters to us in detail, and took us on a tour.
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. We have nothing like that here, and we see no need to do so much work to make life less comfortable for you."
    "One problem," Peters observed. When Dee didn’t respond except to shift position slightly, he continued, "It’s in the wrong place. This passage is all for us, right? When the rest of the unit comes aboard?"
    "Yes. There are a sixty-four of rooms on each floor, and you will have two floors. There will be an eight and three sailors–"
    "Two hundred, I thought."
    "I mean an eight and three sixty-fours, of course." Dee drew with her finger in the dust on the wall: dash, vertical line, lightning bolt. "So there is enough space for everyone, and