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One level up, Jack was also sitting at his table, but in his case it was due to the greater spread of space it offered, compared to his desk. Roth was now only a day or so from the Achilles system, where he would have to submit copies of all of her logs and her statement of condition, itself containing condensed reports from each of his line and warrant officers. When Roth had approached the Neva system, Jack had used his computer for the laborious task of fitting everything together (any disagreement between the reports was liable to mire him in years of meetings and correspondence), but the screen was really too small for him to see everything at once, and he was now attempting the process in hard copy.
“No wonder so many captains are bitter, crotchety old men and women,” he said, laying down the master’s records of coolant consumed and rubbing his eyes again. He surveyed the piles of paper, trying to recall which held Roth’s receipts from her last port of call. Perhaps the carpenter could make him color-coded, labeled paperweights, as he remembered one of his previous captains having.
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