to pat him on the back. The infant twisted around in her arms and his luminous gaze fastened on Mueller for a moment. He seemed to find her deeply fascinating.
Mueller met his gaze and, aside from scowling slightly, did not react.
Upon receiving no particular response from Mueller, Cwansi turned his attention back to his mother. His tiny fist thumped repeatedly on her breast.
“I need to go take care of, uhm… he’s hungry,” said Robin. “And I guess I shouldn’t be taking up any more of your time. Thank you for hearing me out.”
She rose from her chair and headed for the door. Just before she could reach it, though, Mueller said, “Children.”
Robin turned back to her, looking confused. “I’m sorry?”
“I assume that children are of interest to you, what with you having one of your own.”
“Well, yes, sure, but I don’t—?”
“We have children on board the Trident.”
“Okay,” said Robin, still not entirely sure where Mueller was going with this.
Mueller scratched the underside of her chin for a moment and then said, “Look: As noted, you’re not part of Starfleet. So even if I wanted to install you at ops, I couldn’t. Besides which, I don’t want to install you at ops because we already have a perfectly good, if someone eccentric, man there.”
“Romeo Takahashi.”
“Yes. I don’t see Hash willingly stepping aside for you.”
“I have other skills. I’m not just limited to knowledge of ops. I started out in engineering. I have a great deal of familiarity with exobiology. I minored in comm studies at the Academy, and I’m fluent in every standardized means of communication going back to Morse code.”
“I don’t know what that is but I doubt it’s going to come up in day-to-day operations.”
“Then I can do subsystems repairs. I can keep shuttlecraft tuned. Please don’t make me beg. It’s not that I won’t, but my knees have been bothering me lately so it’s harder to get down on them…”
“Robin,” said Mueller firmly, “despite your many talents, it’s all moot because—”
“I’m not in Starfleet, yes, I get it. But I’d be perfectly willing to take a civilian job if…” Then her voice trailed off as she put together the pieces of what Mueller had been saying.
Seeing it in Robin’s face, Mueller nodded approvingly. “Good. You finally caught up with what I thought of five minutes ago.”
“You have something in mind having to do with children.”
“Exactly. The Trident, like most other starships, has child care facilities, staffed of course by someone to watch over the children of crewmen and officers. Truthfully, as far as experience goes, you’re insanely overqualified. But it gets you on the ship and your not being in Starfleet isn’t an issue.”
“What about the person who currently holds the job?”
“She was killed getting her charges to safety during the recent attack by the Brethren.”
“Oh,” said Robin very softly. Cwansi stopped squirming in his mother’s grasp, as if out of respect to the memory of a woman who had died in a noble cause involving children.
“When danger presents itself to a starship,” said Mueller, “it doesn’t tend to show respect for age or lack thereof. This is not a simple babysitting job. There can, and do, come times when their lives are dependent upon you. It’s a serious responsibility that requires a serious individual. Plus, of course, you won’t have to turn your own child over to a stranger to have him attended to.”
“There is that.”
“If you want time to think it over—”
“I don’t need it,” Robin said immediately. “I’d be honored to do the job, and gratified that you would give it to me.”
“Who said I’m giving it to you?”
Robin’s face fell. “What?”
“There’s a lengthy interview procedure, a series of tests, physical exams. The entire process could take as much as eight weeks, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll get the position. There are at least twenty-seven people being considered ahead of you.”
Robin was utterly crestfallen. “Really?”
“No, not really. The position is yours. Welcome to the Trident.” She chucked a thumb. “Now get the hell out of my quarters.”
Recovering her breath, Robin managed to stammer out a fast “thank you” and hasten out the door with her son. Mueller watched them go, and the last thing she saw was Cwansi’s gaze upon her. She knew she was imagining it, but he looked almost appreciative, as if grateful that Mueller had extended this lifeline to his mother. Then the doors slid closed, blocking them from her view.