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SEA OF SHADOWS 237
The sample valve was located on the bottom of the oil sump. Carpenter
unclipped the locking arm from the hand wheel of the sample valve and
pulled a glass sample bottle from the left hip pocket of his coveralls. As
Engineering Messenger of the Watch, part of his job was to take regular oil
samples from key pieces of engineering equipment. The oil lab, which
operated twenty-four hours a day, would test the samples for seawater,
metal filings, dirt, or other contamination that could degrade the
lubricating property of the oil. Carpenter opened the valve a crack and
waited as the dark amber liquid began to ooze into his sample bottle. Hot
oil-scented air surged up from the open valve, the signature aroma of
heavy machinery at work.
Something flew past his head and ricocheted off the bearing housing. It
startled him, and he jerked away involuntarily. The object fell into the
bilge. It was a balled up piece of paper.
Carpenter turned in time to dodge a second paper projectile that was
also aimed at his head. Standing a few feet away was Seaman Wayne
Harris, a general wise-ass and Carpenter’s best friend.
Harris grinned, showing his mulish front teeth. “Hey shit-for-brains,
let’s go up to the starboard break and smoke a ciggy-butt.” His voice was
loud. It had to be to carry over the sounds of the machinery.
“I’ve got to get this oil sample up to the lab,” Carpenter said.
“So get a move on,” Harris said. “We can swing by the lab on the way
up.”
Carpenter checked the oil level in the sample bottle out of the corner of
his eye, not willing to turn his back entirely on Harris, who was a bit of a
prankster. The bottle was about two-thirds full. “What’s the rush?”
“Your Hot-a-malan girlfriend is up there taking a smoke break. She
usually likes to smoke two, so she doesn’t feel like she wasted the trip. If
we hurry, we can catch her.”
Gitana Delgado was Guatemalan, not Hot-a-malan, as Harris insisted
on calling her. And she wasn’t Carpenter’s girlfriend. Not that he would
have minded …
It struck Carpenter for about the thousandth time how lucky Harris was
that Gitana Delgado didn’t take his nickname for her personally. With a
word or two in the right direction, she could have nailed him for sexual
harassment, or maybe even racial discrimination. The Navy didn’t play
games with either one of those subjects. If you had opinions on someone’s
gender or ethnic background, you had damned well better keep them to
yourself. Gitana could get Harris into serious trouble if she wanted to.
Carpenter smiled. For that matter, she could probably kick Harris’s ass.