Stealing Donuts, part 4 of 4
_or_ Gertie's Revenge
<in part 3 of 4, minutes earlier, MC tried one last but botched attempt
at Gertie's donuts, followed by Sean's successful attempt using TK>
Sean laughed a good long time; and Gertie merely looked at
him, one eyebrow raised in calculation. Everytime Sean started to
calm down, all he had to do was look at Gertie looking at him, and he
would start up again.
Over at the corner table, MC was telling Thilia in a low voice
what had happened. The racoonid had caught a case of the giggles,
which isn't at all surprising since racoonids tend to think human
behavior is one of the funniest things going.
(Ever seen a racoonid "laugh"? They usually fall over and
roll up in a ball, make very high frequency chitters and
squeaks, and rub their noses frenetically. It looks very odd.)
Gertie looked around her, took one last bite of donut, and
walked over to MC's table.
"Correct me if I'm mistaken, MC, but what was one of the usual
spot punishments for grunts in the military - push-ups, wasn't it?"
Gertie had an calculating grin on her face.
"That, Gertie, is a rhetorical question if I ever heard one,
and I myself try never to get trapped into leading questions,
especially when my mission commander is grinning at me like a vargr
toghk (whore) in heat..."
I thought Thilia was going to fall off her seat at MC's term
of phrase, but Thilia has lead a very sheltered life, being blind,
wealthy, and noble. Also, Thilia had never met anyone quite as blunt
as MC before - another artifact of her previously sheltered life.
Being rescued by our ship has been, I think, the most adventure she
has ever had.
Gertie, hoever, didn't even blink at MC's reply. In fact, the
sinister aspect of the grin deepened, if anything.
"Yep, push-ups...yeah, that's the ticket. Hope you're in
shape, Commodore."
What MC said next can't be repeated in polite company.
Meanwhile, Gertie had paged the entire crew to assemble in the hold.
- ------------
A half hour later, Gertie explained to the entire crew (all 23
of us) that enough was enough. In addition, as a small object object
lesson, anyone involved in stealing her donuts (except Hyl) would now
drop and do push-ups. While this was normal for the marines, she
explained, she included the Commodore, Rocky, and Sean also - their
behavior as senior members of the crew had set a very poor standard
for everyone else, especially where her donuts were concerned.
"Yeah, how come Hyl gets off the hook?" MC asked, leaning
against a bulkhead, looking more and more disgusted with each passing
moment.
"Hyl gave me the honorable opportunity to defend my donuts,
and I failed to do so - unlike the rest of you who went ahead and
stole my breakfast out from under my nose with no notice whatsoever!
As for those members of the crew NOT yet implicated in the purloining
of my pastries, let this be a warning for you: leave me donuts alone!
Just to show you that I would never order anyone to do
something I was unwilling to do myself, I will join you. Last, we
will all attempt to do as many push-ups as the Commodore. When the
Commodore tires out, we can all stop, unless she tires us all out
first. After all, as MC is so fond of telling me, seniors officers
_are_ expected to set an example for the crew."
"Hot Damn! We'll be done in no time!" said Grig, a marine
with a big mouth and a small brain. Grig missed the dirty looks from
the sargeant and colonel; the look MC gave him grabbed all his
attention. She didn't say anything; she just looked at him as if
contemplating dirty dishes in a sink, and rolled up her sleeves. She
never blinked, and his mirth turned faded to apprehension.
Never turning her attention from Grig, she pulled off her
boots and tucked her braid down the back of her undress overalls.
Last, she took her knighthood piece out of its holster, and after
Grig's eyes had widened, she turned to Haakim, the senior navigator,
and asked him to hold it for her.
MC tossed one last withering look at Gertie, dropped to the
floor, and started push-ups at a moderate pace. Morris, the marine
sargeant, growled at eveyone else, and in seconds, the hold was filled
with half the crew doing push-ups. A few other crew members joined in
for the hell of it, including Thilia, the blind lady. Me? I'm just
an old fart - I watched and mentally inventoried the ship's supply of
analgesics.
Nightshade (well, that's what she _says_ her name is) ran off
to get a camera. Hyl got bored and left. Anton was taking bets.
Rocky, not being one to take anything like punitive push-ups
seriously, was hanging from a ceiling panel by his claws, doing
upside-down push-ups (pull-ups?).
Most of the marines burned-out early. Morris, their sargeant,
lasted the longest and quit only after he had passed 1000 push-ups.
Sean, the master chief, had quit long before that. Rocky quit after
the novelty wore off. The last contenders still on the floor were
Thilia, Gertie, and MC. Thilia quit not long after Morris. Gertie
however kept right on going, keeping pace with MC.
Finally, Gertie's breath started to run ragged, and she slowed
down. Soon, she collasped on the floor. Sean helped her to her feet.
And then we all stood around, frozen, staring at the Commodore still
doing push-ups at a steady and unfaltering pace. Her eyes were shut,
and her teeth were clenched, her expression one of well-contained
pain. The marines were humilated, ever last one of them; Svenwas, the
colonel, was ready to spit rivets, he was so mad. Grig tried to fade
into the bulkheads, but Morris and Svenwas kept staring him down.
Gertie broke the tableau. She knelt next to MC, and said
quietly: "MC, you can stop now. Please, before you end up in sickbay."
MC ended a push-up, rolled over, and popped up to her feet. No one
missed the lines of pain around her eyes.
"Excuse me," she said very quietly, as she stepped into her
flight boots, and retrieved her piece, "I want a shower." As she
walked out, Svenwas and Morris saluted, and the rest of the marines
followed suit immediately.
-------------------
MC walked stiffly into the mess the next morning, and joined
Gertie at her table. She winced as she sat down.
"You did that on purpose, Gertie," MC said quietly without
accusation.
"Seen the doc yet, MC?" Gertie asked, just as quietly.
"Oh yeah."
"Donut?"
MC gave Gertie a look. When she done with her look, she said:
"better take me off the duty roster for a few days, Gertie. I don't
think I could pilot right now if we popped out of jump."
"That sore, eh? I'm surprised. I thought the artificial arms
would do all the work."
"Yeah, they did do most of the work, but much of the muscle in
my back is real, and my back and shoulders are killing me."
"You could have quit earlier, you know." Gertie pointed out
gently.
"Sorry, Gertie, but between you and that marine twit, I had to
the last to quit." It was Gertie's turn to give MC a look. MC
replied by taking a donut.
- -------------------
EPILOGUE
A day later, Nightshade approached MC and Thilia in the mess,
and handed MC a 2-D print.
"I suppose, young lady," MC raised an eyebrow, "that this is
already all over the ship?"
"Yep!" Nightshade smiled.
"I see." MC gave the 2-D her close scrutiny, and handed it
back to Nightshade, and suppressed a laugh. "For the record, young
lady, I have never ever seen this, nor heard of its existence. Is
that clear?"
"Yes Sir!"
"What did Nightshade show you, MC?" Thilia asked when
Nightshade had walked away.
"A 2-D photo-print she took during the push-ups, of Gertie's
ample posterior. In addition, she touched up the print so that a
standardized shipping label of 'wide load' appears prominently across
one cheek."
"How inappropriate," Thilia said haughtily.
"Yes," the Commodore replied with vast dignity.
And then they busted up laughing.
- ---------------------
FYI: the current world's record for push-ups is over 8000 push-ups.
Gertie, being the strongest human on the ship (Str 12), could probably
do 2000 push-ups. Thilia is a psi - she used her self-awareness to
stretch her ability to do as many push-ups as she did. Morris is
almost as strong as Gertie, and as the marine sargeant, there was no
way he was going to wash out early. MC is a cyborg, though only a few
people on the crew know this. Most of the narrative is told from the
point of view of the ship's doctor, an "old fart" named Pete.
This ends "Stealing Donuts - or 101 Thing to do in Jump." Feedback on
whether folks would like to see more story snippets out of my
traveller group (sent in small pieces, on holidays and weekends when
volume is low) would be appreciated. Please send me email direct if
you have comments, to [email removed] Thanks.
Catie Helm