find. Food would not be a problem. Finding tritium to fuel the extra ships’ reactors might be. “Finding docks for them may also be difficult,” Mannie said. “We were getting more freighters moving. If the warships are parked permanently, that could affect trade.”
“Then we’ll just have to keep the ships doing something,” Vicky said. “I’m headed for Brunswick with a trade delegation and half a dozen freighters.”
“A dozen,” Mannie corrected.
“A dozen!”
“Yep. Brunswick had a longer wish list, and what with all theshipments of crystal and rare earths, we can meet their needs. Oh, and we need to look at a second convoy to Metzburg.”
“Half dozen or a dozen?”
“A full dozen this time. It may not sail in the next few days. That load of rare earths we just got in will need to be processed into product before we send that convoy out.”
“I’m starting to think that keeping enough ships at High St. Petersburg to protect it may be more of a problem than you’re thinking.”
Mannie shrugged. “You could have a point. By the way, are we just protecting convoys and St. Petersburg from pirates, or is it something bigger?”
“That depends on how many skippers turned their ships over to be junked, doesn’t it?”
“How good will the skippers be that the Empress hires for her new battleships?”
Vicky sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. How much of the flexibility that we saw in the crew of the Golden Empress 1 was because they were so outgunned and how much was because they thought they were on the wrong side?”
“As you said, your guess is as good as mine,” Mannie agreed.
They went over more numbers and found more options and more challenges. It became clear that they were guessing at their problems and guessing even more wildly at their solutions.
Mannie leaned back on his couch, spread his arms wide, and put his feet up on the coffee table that doubled as a computer screen. He let out a huge sigh. “Don’t things around you ever slow down?”
Vicky gave the question all the time it deserved—about two seconds, then shrugged. “They don’t seem to although I will point out in my defense that I don’t have a lot of control over them. As a case in point, I give you that invasion fleet or the refugees.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Mannie agreed. “But don’t you ever want to lean back on a sofa, kick your shoes off, and curl up in front of a nice fire?”
She wanted very much to curl her legs around him, fireplace or not. With regret, she deflected that thought.
“There aren’t that many fireplaces on battleships. I don’t think they’re allowed.”
Mannie scowled at her. “Not even for Grand Duchesses?”
“Especially not for Grand Duchesses. Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for a Grand Duchess who doesn’t spend all her time running for her life. I don’t know about those kind, never having met one.”
“You have a point. Not a good one, I allow you, but a point. When we get you back to Sevastopol, you are going to have to let me take you up to a place I know in the mountains. It’s great when it snows. There’s skiing and maybe even a snowball fight or two if you’re really daring. It has the most wonderful fireplace. Gray fieldstones all the way up to the ceiling. Beautiful high wooden ceiling. Or would you call it an overhead?”
“Houses have ceilings,” Vicky allowed. “Warships have overheads. It’s the same with walls and bulkheads.”
“You sure? Would a real Navy officer give me a different answer?”
“I don’t know. If my commander/lifeguard ever comes back, you can ask him. Maybe if you’re third-generation Navy, even walls are bulkheads, but I’ve only been at this Navy thing for a few years.”
“And someday you’ll be a full-time Grand Duchess and not part-time Navy and part-time Grand Duchess.”
“Oh.” Vicky sighed. “It would be so wonderful not to have to check each footstep, each word. Am I Navy right now, or am I
“Then we’ll just have to keep the ships doing something,” Vicky said. “I’m headed for Brunswick with a trade delegation and half a dozen freighters.”
“A dozen,” Mannie corrected.
“A dozen!”
“Yep. Brunswick had a longer wish list, and what with all theshipments of crystal and rare earths, we can meet their needs. Oh, and we need to look at a second convoy to Metzburg.”
“Half dozen or a dozen?”
“A full dozen this time. It may not sail in the next few days. That load of rare earths we just got in will need to be processed into product before we send that convoy out.”
“I’m starting to think that keeping enough ships at High St. Petersburg to protect it may be more of a problem than you’re thinking.”
Mannie shrugged. “You could have a point. By the way, are we just protecting convoys and St. Petersburg from pirates, or is it something bigger?”
“That depends on how many skippers turned their ships over to be junked, doesn’t it?”
“How good will the skippers be that the Empress hires for her new battleships?”
Vicky sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. How much of the flexibility that we saw in the crew of the Golden Empress 1 was because they were so outgunned and how much was because they thought they were on the wrong side?”
“As you said, your guess is as good as mine,” Mannie agreed.
They went over more numbers and found more options and more challenges. It became clear that they were guessing at their problems and guessing even more wildly at their solutions.
Mannie leaned back on his couch, spread his arms wide, and put his feet up on the coffee table that doubled as a computer screen. He let out a huge sigh. “Don’t things around you ever slow down?”
Vicky gave the question all the time it deserved—about two seconds, then shrugged. “They don’t seem to although I will point out in my defense that I don’t have a lot of control over them. As a case in point, I give you that invasion fleet or the refugees.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Mannie agreed. “But don’t you ever want to lean back on a sofa, kick your shoes off, and curl up in front of a nice fire?”
She wanted very much to curl her legs around him, fireplace or not. With regret, she deflected that thought.
“There aren’t that many fireplaces on battleships. I don’t think they’re allowed.”
Mannie scowled at her. “Not even for Grand Duchesses?”
“Especially not for Grand Duchesses. Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for a Grand Duchess who doesn’t spend all her time running for her life. I don’t know about those kind, never having met one.”
“You have a point. Not a good one, I allow you, but a point. When we get you back to Sevastopol, you are going to have to let me take you up to a place I know in the mountains. It’s great when it snows. There’s skiing and maybe even a snowball fight or two if you’re really daring. It has the most wonderful fireplace. Gray fieldstones all the way up to the ceiling. Beautiful high wooden ceiling. Or would you call it an overhead?”
“Houses have ceilings,” Vicky allowed. “Warships have overheads. It’s the same with walls and bulkheads.”
“You sure? Would a real Navy officer give me a different answer?”
“I don’t know. If my commander/lifeguard ever comes back, you can ask him. Maybe if you’re third-generation Navy, even walls are bulkheads, but I’ve only been at this Navy thing for a few years.”
“And someday you’ll be a full-time Grand Duchess and not part-time Navy and part-time Grand Duchess.”
“Oh.” Vicky sighed. “It would be so wonderful not to have to check each footstep, each word. Am I Navy right now, or am I
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