The Unseen Eye: personnel evaluation
11 Jan 2022Orwell Vandeman
“No? What do you mean no?”Napoleon Carson shifted uneasily under the expressionless gaze of his masters’ gasmask.
“I told her you requested her presence, and she said no then shut the door your honour”
Pushing himself upright, Orwell huffed a reply.
“Who the hell does she think she is?”
It wasn’t a hard question to answer and Napoleon voiced the obvious, before thinking about how it would sound.
“Umm, the captain of the ship your honour”
It took Orwell most of the walk to the Captains quarters to regain his composure after tearing down Napoleon. The suit and mask helped keep him cool, but that kind of disrespect always raised his temperature, and he didn’t want to appear flustered in front of the only person on the ship that wasn’t in his organisation. Being made to wait a few seconds too long at her door didn’t help.
“Captain Mercy, so good of you to agree to see me on such short notice” lied Orwell politely when the door finely opened.
He was met with a warm smile from the tall white haired woman and welcomed inside the spartan office that preceded her personal quarters. Her expression and body language spoken of a dutiful and accommodating captain, but her eyes were as blank as the void between galaxies.
He watched her take a seat, standing as a gentleman should. She was deliberate but graceful as if she was trained to sit professionally. All her movements, even her face looked trained as if emotions were something she’d seen other people use, and copied them to fit in. Orwell judged that this woman had spent a long time on a heavy planet, but had become accustom to living in space. A small detail, but small details helped Orwells’ cons succeed.
“I’ve come to talk with you about the upcoming modifications to your fine vessel, Captain. Have you decided where we will be sequestered while we are shut down?”
He picked his words carefully; telling this woman what he wanted or trying to make her do as he told her would probably make her stick her heels in and disagree on principle. There was just a moment’s hesitation as the woman peered hard through Orwells’ masks’ round mirrored eye holes.
“I have mister Vandeman. A quiet system fully explored with nothing interesting to draw wonderers its way”
She slid a slate across the desk towards him. A star map with their current location, plotted journey, and the system she had in mind for a work location before she continued.
“It has a white star, very warm and at the right distance the radiation will be tolerable for the workers while still letting them stay warm enough to work efficiently; in strictly timed shifts naturally”
There was nothing to add, she had it covered.
“You have found a harbour that will shelter us well Capitan. Thank you for your diligence. As for the work itself, are you happy with the schedule? My people will be hard to press on that matter, mark you Captain” he asked injecting an obstacle to see how she would react.
The Mercy woman had a poker face a state would be proud of. Orwell noticed she hadn’t blinked once since he had been here.
“That is entirely your choice mister Vandeman. Part of hiring my company through the Inner Ring on Robigo is for special accommodation with no questions. I do have a few notes I would like to share with the people doing the work, unless you are au fait with St Elmos fire and electrically detonated explosive bolts?”
Her soft voice and clipped imperial accent coupled with her lack of facial expressions didn’t let Orwell know if the woman was being rude, matter-of-fact, or asking an honest question. He did not enjoy being even slightly off balance in any exchange.
“No captain, you are indeed correct. I am not privy to the intricacy of explosive bolts, and I was under the impression St Elmos’ fire was a myth. It is pleasant to be otherwise educated by such lovely company”
There was a very slight movement of her head, almost imperceptible, but Orwell was looking for it after the carefully selected compliment.
“I will have the foreman come and talk with you about your concerns at your convenience Capitan. May I take a moment to thank you for your service Capitan? We may have found you through nefarious channels, but we are thrice blessed to have you at the helm of our quest”
Personal complements were not well received, but gratitude for professionalism was safe ground providing he avoided religious connotations. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Never the less, the Capitan didn’t seem quite as comfortable as she had been when he entered her office. The small victory put Orwell back where he liked to be.
“Now Capitan, I’ll not take any more of your valuable time, I think we have covered everything of importance to me already. I’ll see myself out Capitan”
There was plenty more to talk about, but Orwell wanted to do so on his terms, on his time table. He couldn’t have this woman striding around as if she was in charge, he’d paid for her ship and services after all. Besides, they were on a ship thousands of light years away from any station or settlement. It’s not like she would be going anywhere.