Betsy Carter
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2022 by Lazlo Zalezac

“Hello,” the man said when Betsy stepped into the instrument room on the tug.

He was big as a mountain, with tattoos that ran the full length of his arms. His legs were the size of tree trunks. His hair was cut short, and he had a scar on his chin that gave him the appearance that he ate small babies for breakfast. He was holding a screwdriver in his hand, which was pointed in her general direction.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Paul.”

“Well, Paul, what are you doing on my boat?”

“I work for Dr. Thibodeaux.”

“Ah,” Betsy said realizing that Paul must be the football player Henry had mentioned. He was definitely built like a football player. “What are you working on?”

Paul waved the screwdriver and said, “I’m installing a heat exchange unit in the electronics rack. We’ve got so much stuff packed in here that it will overheat if we turn everything on.”

“Is heat that big of a problem?” Betsy asked.

“Well, you’ve got at least ten boxes on this one rack, and they use around four hundred watts each. That’s the equivalent of having a four thousand watt space heater in this room. You’ve got two racks like that, so it’s the same as having two space heaters. Considering that the temperature outside can be in the nineties at times, this room will be hotter than hell, and actually dangerous to your health.

“As unpleasant as that sounds in terms of being in the room, the boxes at the top of the rack have it even worse. All of the heat from the boxes below will flow to them. They can get a hundred degrees warmer than the room. It won’t be fireworks, but it might be more along the lines of a fire.”

“That does sound like a problem,” Betsy said.

“It won’t be, once we get the full heat exchange system installed. It will pipe much of the heat to the outside. Until then, all of this pretty equipment will be about as useful as paperweights.”

“When will you get done?”

“I’ll be done in about twenty minutes. It’s going to take a while to get the cooling system installed on the roof, though. We’re waiting on the installation company to confirm their schedule. They’ve got to fly in from the mainland. It could be anywhere from a week to a month,” Paul said.

“That sucks.”

“That’s the same thing Dr. Thibodeaux said.”

“I’m surprised he said anything. It takes too much energy to move his mouth that much,” Betsy commented.

Paul laughed as he replied, “He looks and acts lazy, but don’t let that fool you. He works more than anyone I’ve ever met. He put together a fine collection of equipment here for you. We’re talking top of the line stuff. He even redesigned the controller for the submersible, and then had the manufacturer make one.”

“I know all about Henry and what he’s capable of doing,” Betsy said.

Captain Jack stuck his head into the room and said, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“That’s odd. I was looking for you, but found him instead,” Betsy said gesturing over at Paul with her thumb.

“We’ve got the checklist to go over,” Captain Jack said.

The checklist was an itemized list of all modifications to the tugboat that were required to transform it from a tug to a research vessel. While a good percentage of the work had been done while it was in dry dock, there remained much to be done yet. This included extending sleeping quarters to accommodate researchers as well as crew, installation of the heat exchangers and other electronics, and the creation of a laboratory workroom.

Betsy said, “Where do you want to do this?”

“In the workroom,” Captain Jack said.

Betsy followed Captain Jack to the workroom. The notebook containing all of the changes was on a table along with detailed plans of the tugboat. The table was a folding table that was used only when in port as a temporary measure until the room was properly furnished. They sat down in the folding chairs across from each other.

“You’re fortunate that this boat was built before the fusion cell was invented. When they converted from diesel to fusion cell, it freed up a lot of space below deck. The diesel engine was replaced by an electric motor. The fuel tank space was filled with additional ballast. Since the boat’s use has changed, we’re able to remove some of that ballast to make space for the submersible without sacrificing the stability of the boat very much.

“The first deck is now entirely crew quarters, with a kitchen. The second deck is being converted over to laboratory and relaxation space. The top deck is my domain, and you aren’t touching it.”

“I know all that,” Betsy said.

She had wanted the laboratory on the first deck where it would be easy to take samples. However, Captain Jack had correctly pointed out that having the crew positioned so that they could get immediately to the deck from their quarters in the event of an emergency was far more important than having the research space easily accessible. When put in safety terms like that, Betsy found it impossible to argue.

“The work on the first deck is nearly complete. They finished installation of the cabin walls yesterday. Every cabin is large enough for two beds, a table, and two closets. The space is tight. You know that old saying about ‘not being able to swing a cat in the room without hitting a wall and seriously irritating the cat?’”

“Yes.”

“Well, you can’t even enter those rooms with a cat,” Captain Jack said, earning a chuckle from Betsy.

“We knew it was going to be tight,” Betsy said.

“I’ve kept one cabin large enough for me to live in, as this tugboat is now my home.”

Betsy said, “We agreed on that, earlier. Why are we covering old ground?”

“It’s not too late to make a few modifications,” Captain Jack said.

“Like what?” Betsy asked.

“Like increasing the space in a cabin or making another cabin below deck.”

Betsy said, “Why would we do that?

Captain Jack didn’t know how to say it in a manner that wouldn’t be taken offensively, so he laid it out bluntly.

“You’re rich. You are used to big hotels. You aren’t going to be happy sleeping in a closet. I just don’t want to hear any complaints about not having room in quarters. I’d rather make the changes now then sometime in the future.”

Betsy laughed. “Is that what this is about?”

“It’s a reasonable concern,” Captain Jack said.

“You don’t know much about my family, do you?”

“Not really, except that I know that you’re among the richest people in the world.”

Betsy said, “Have you ever seen a Homeless Hotel?”

“Yes.”

Betsy said, “Like all of my brothers and sisters, I was supposed to spend summers working at them when I was a teenager. The only problem was that I was a little too hyperactive to be let loose there. Instead, my parents sent me to work as a volunteer at a shark research facility in California. Although I didn’t have to work summers at Homeless Hotels, my parents required me to stay at them when Happy Harry was around.

“I’ve even chosen to stay in Homeless Hotels over regular hotels on many occasions in the past. You might say that it is a family tradition that we spend the night in one if we are in a town for an extended period of time. I’ve done exercises around the fires at night listening to stories told by some really remarkable people. I know the Angel of Chicago, the Duke and Duchess of Dallas, and Bottlecap in the Pittsburgh Homeless Hotel. I’ve slept in sections of sewer pipe, on the same wooden planks that they use as beds. I’ve even cleaned the sections of sewers after folks have been sick in them.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Captain Jack said surprised to learn that about her.

“If you think that I’m a spoiled little rich bitch, you’re wrong. If I had wanted to, I could have bought a retired Soviet cruiser instead of the Bloated Shark and fitted out the front half of it as my living quarters. I bought this tugboat because it fits our needs perfectly.

“It is a research vessel for use around the Hawaiian Islands, not for spending months at a time on the ocean. We’re going out, at most, for a week to ten days at a time. We can spend our evenings in the common area telling stories, singing songs, watching movies, or reading books. People can put up with tight quarters, particularly if all they are doing is sleeping in them. You don’t have to worry about me making a fuss about space.”

Captain Jack said, “Others might not be that understanding of space shortages.”

“We will let them swim along side of the Bloated Shark until they get so tired they won’t even notice where they’re sleeping,” Betsy said with a smile.

“Okay,” Captain Jack said somewhat hesitantly.

He wasn’t sure if she was serious about that threat. There were times when she said things like that and he had discovered later that she had been completely serious.

“Is there anything else?”

Captain Jack said, “Sure. We’re working on the second deck. I want you to double check the plans to assure that everything is being done correctly.”

For the next two hours, Betsy and Captain Jack went over the hundreds of little details that had been identified. Creating a laboratory aboard a boat was much more work than in a building. A boat moved with the waves. It rocked, rolled, yawed, and pitched. Loose items could, and would fly, all over the place when the motions got rough enough. An unattended laptop could fall to the floor and break when the boat was hit by an unexpected wave. The only thing that could be counted upon, was that there were going to be unexpected waves ... particularly in a storm.

Betsy went through each item one at a time. How much shelf space would be needed? How deep should the tables be? Would they have to work during storms? What if a submersible was in the water when a storm hit? It was mind numbing to try and address all of the situations that could arise.

When they were finished, Betsy went outside. She leaned against the railing looking out over the harbor. Her mind turned to her personal, life and she immediately thought about Paul.

Paul was definitely big and strong enough to put up with her occasional bursts of energy. They could probably even wrestle a little without there being too much of a chance of him getting injured. He wasn’t that great looking, but he wasn’t ugly. He had to be smart to be working for Henry. In a way, he was kind of an ideal man for her.

She smiled at the idea of dating him. She headed towards the equipment room to attempt a little harmless flirting. The smile on her face disappeared upon seeing the woman standing beside Paul.

“Who are you?” Betsy asked.

“This is Sue. She’s my girlfriend,” Paul said. “Sue, this is Betsy. I guess you could say that this is her boat.”

Betsy looked at Paul. He was a mountain. She looked at Sue. She was a mouse. She looked at Paul trying to imagine him being with Sue. She couldn’t imagine it.

“Aren’t you afraid of breaking her?” Betsy asked trying not to sound disappointed that he was already taken.

“What?” Paul asked.

“You’re big; and she’s ... like ... tiny,” Betsy said.

“And?”

“Aren’t you afraid of breaking her?” Betsy asked.

“No,” Paul said.

Sue said, “He’s the gentlest man I’ve ever met.”

“I’m sure he is,” Betsy said.

She couldn’t help wonder how they wrestled and played. He could crush her just by sitting on her. She could see herself snapping her in half without much effort.

Paul asked, “Did you need anything?”

“I just stopped by to see how it was going,” Betsy said trying to hide her disappointment.

She was thinking that her first attempt at getting a boyfriend wasn’t working out that well. In fact, it was a miserable failure.

“It’s going great. I’ve finished for the day. We were about to head out for dinner,” Paul said.

“Okay. I’m going now,” Betsy said.

“It was nice to met you,” Sue said.

“Same here,” Betsy replied before beating a hasty retreat.

A very short time later, Sue and Paul stepped out to the ladder. Sue spotted Betsy standing on the dock facing a man. The man was holding a gun on her.

“Paul, I think that man is robbing her.”

Paul was about to rush down the stairs to rescue Betsy when there was a gunshot. A bullet ricocheted off the side of the boat a few feet from his head. He froze. Sue screamed while he stared in shock at the events unfolding below.

Betsy had dodged the bullet and then kicked the gun out of his hand before her assailant had a chance to fire a second shot. The gun flew over his head and landed about thirty feet behind him.

She launched herself, feet first, against the wall of the building next to where she was standing. She planted her feet on the building, launched herself and twisted around so that she landed on the ground behind him. He was still turning to face her when she hit him across the side of his neck with a sharp double tap that fractured the C-4 vertebra.

While he was still falling, she slammed her cupped hands against his ears. He screamed in terror knowing what else was about to befall him. He had heard of what she had promised and he had no doubt that she was delivering it.

She pulled out his tongue and then hit his jaw with a blow from below. She tossed the little bit of tongue in the water. Once he was on the ground, she rolled him over onto his stomach to keep him from choking on his own blood.

 
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