22
Helen
“At least everything went well today.”
Everyone has returned safe and sound from the alternative excursion, Naples has stopped behaving like a mythological creature enraged by traffic, and the shuttle buses have completed their service with more than decent coordination.
The complaints at the counter have been reduced to a bearable murmur, and Arturo has offered me a sober “good job,” which, on any other occasion, I would have filed away in my mind as a small professional victory.
But it’s not enough. Because ever since Maika walked away with her team, sweeping the group along with that overwhelming energy, a strange sensation has lodged itself beneath my ribs.
It’s a confusing mix of pride, relief, and, above all, fear.
Not because of the port chaos, the authorities, or the logistical contingencies.
It’s fear of what Maika awakens in me when I see her leading, when her eyes lock onto mine, or when I lose control as I stare at her lips.
A thought I force myself to dispel immediately when the competition becomes official after the last group returns.
Arturo and Julianne summon us to the meeting room on deck six: a glass-enclosed space with views of the stern and the port of Naples, which begins to fade into the horizon as the ship starts its departure maneuver.
They’ve dubbed this process a “cross-interview,” an elegant euphemism to mask the fact that they’re going to sit us face to face and cut us open with the utmost courtesy.
I arrive five minutes early, of course. Maika shows up right on time, as expected. She walks in wearing her impeccable promotional polo shirt, though the shadows under her eyes betray her accumulated fatigue, and sits across from me.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” says Julianne. “We know the day on land has been demanding.”
Maika lets out a laugh.
“A very diplomatic way of describing a tourist riot right at the dock,” she replies, her spark intact.
Julianne smiles faintly, nodding.
“That’s precisely why we wanted to call you in now. The pressure of a live situation reveals leadership more clearly than any office interview.”
“What an encouraging perspective,” I mutter, unable to hold my tongue.
Arturo seems to flash an amused smile.
“Helen, Maika, this session won’t follow the usual one-on-one format. We want to evaluate your judgment, your objectivity, and your analytical skills by observing how you assess your partner’s performance.”
My spine tenses. Great. Now not only do I have to compete with Maika for the position, but I also have to evaluate her while trying to hide the fact that I’ve imagined her kissing me in my bed at least four times since our morning coffee. “Professionalism, Helen,” I mentally command myself.
“The intention…” Julianne continues, “isn’t for you to tear each other apart. We’re looking for maturity, honesty, and the ability to recognize each other’s strengths, even when there’s obvious tension between you.”
Maika stares at me for a second. Just one. But it’s enough to make the word “tension” seem inadequate, almost ridiculous. Certainly, considering they don’t know the details of our history, management is choosing the… appropriate words.
Arturo folds his hands on the table.
“Let’s start with something easy. What would you consider to be your colleague’s greatest professional strength?”
Maika speaks up before I do.
“Helen knows a disaster is coming before it happens,” she says.
She’s not trying to flatter me, but I’m not used to people analyzing my work with such clarity.
“She’s capable of managing the unloading flow, a schedule grid, or a contingency operation and pinpointing the exact spot where the system is going to go to hell.
Her discipline can be exasperating at times, yes, but it saves entire contracts.
Today at the dock, she did it again. While the rest of us were dealing with angry customers and a total mess, she quickly found solutions.
You don’t learn that in company training courses. ”
My mouth feels dry. Julianne takes notes on her screen without looking up.
“Would you define that ability to anticipate as her main strength?” she asks.
“Yes,” Maika says, forcing me to look at her. “Helen is the structure that keeps the ship afloat when the rest of us operate more on the fly or look for alternative solutions that, on paper, seem more dynamic.”
I want to look away, to break that invisible thread that binds us at the table, but my muscles won’t obey.
Arturo turns toward me.
“Helen, your turn. What is Maika’s greatest strength?”
I take a deep breath, holding it in. I could fall back on the safe answer. But comfort is starting to feel like a cowardly way to gloss over reality.
“Maika truly understands the human factor,” I reply, feeling a sudden heat rise up my neck. “She doesn’t just direct the passengers; she reads them. She knows exactly what they need and when. She’s empathetic and decisive in a way that headquarters’ guidelines could never achieve.”
Maika remains still, but the intensity in her eyes shifts subtly. I continue, assuming I’ve left any line of retreat behind.
“In Rome, she maintained control of a group in a situation of isolation and stress. In Naples, she’s done exactly the same. Her team responds because she doesn’t treat them as mere workers, but as part of a shared identity.”
Julianne watches me, weighing the weight of my words.
“Is it difficult for you to acknowledge that quality in your competitor, Officer?” she asks.
I shift in my seat.
“No,” I reply. But my mind, sabotaged by this inertia of brutal honesty, forces me to qualify: “Well… yes. It is difficult. Not for lack of professional recognition, but because her methodology is based on intuition and heart—elements that are difficult to quantify in a performance report.”
In my mind, those words have a playful undertone, but I know they don’t for them.
Arturo jots something down quickly. Maika looks away at her intertwined fingers. And I feel like I’ve just loosened a crucial piece of my armor in front of everyone here.
“All right,” Arturo interjects. “Let’s turn the analysis around. What is the greatest weakness you see in the other?”
I look at Maika. I could say she’s impulsive, that she relies too heavily on her personal magnetism, or that she disregards safety margins. All of it would have a technical basis, but in this context, it would sound like a personal attack.
However, it is Maika who takes the risk first.
“Her weakness is that she demands absolute perfection to feel justified in her rank, when her competence is already unquestionable on board,” she fires off with a calmness that takes my breath away.
“Helen works as if the slightest misstep were proof that she doesn’t deserve her position.
That makes her a brilliant officer, because she audits, anticipates, and shields every maneuver.
But it also makes her relentless with herself and, by extension, with those of us who work alongside her.
When faced with the unexpected, her first reaction is to look for the flaw in the protocol.
And if the protocol isn’t enough, she tries to shoulder the entire weight of the operation on her own. ”
The impact hits me in the chest, and not because of wounded pride, but because of the accuracy of the diagnosis. Julianne and Arturo look up in unison.
“Do you think that undermines her leadership ability?” Arturo asks.
“More like… the way she delegates,” Maika concludes. “Because a leader must not only be infallible; they must allow those around them to share the burden of the problem. Helen has a hard time accepting that the team can solve any problem just as well as she can.”
I feel exposed, as if Maika had forced her way into the place where I keep my deepest doubts. There’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice; just a stark truth that leaves me almost breathless.
Julianne turns toward me.
“Officer, do you wish to exercise your right to reply?”
“No.”
Arturo nods, noting my silence as just another piece of data for the evaluation.
“Your turn then, Helen. Maika’s greatest weakness.”
She waits, maintaining eye contact, and that courage forces me to respond in kind.
“Maika relies too heavily on her ability to solve problems on the fly,” I state, weighing each word. “Her knack for improvisation is outstanding, but sometimes that tendency causes her to underestimate the structure of all the work around her.”
Maika tilts her head to one side.
“I’m not referring to the Civitavecchia incident,” I clarify immediately.
“That was an external emergency. I’m talking about a general tendency.
I think she’s a woman who feels too comfortable working amid chaos, and because of that, she projects the false impression that there’s no method behind her actions, even though there is.
And for me… in a critical situation on board, that perception can breed mistrust among the rest of the officers. ”
Arturo shows obvious interest.
“So, you’re saying that Ms. Aranda shows a lack of rigor.”
“No,” I cut in emphatically. “I’m just saying she hides her planning behind her charisma. And outsiders might mistake that naturalness for a lack of control over more serious matters.”
Julianne sets her tablet aside.
“Interesting. You’ve both identified weaknesses based on the perception of the role, not on technical competence.”
Maika lets out a slow sigh.
“I suppose we’re experts at putting on a show.”
I open my mouth, but I can’t get a word out. Immediately, Arturo resumes the questioning.
“Let’s analyze your work together in Naples. Helen, what did Maika contribute beyond the protocols?”
The conclusion is immediate.
“Without a doubt, emotional management,” I admit. “My role was to divide the pier into sections, negotiate the docks with the port police, and establish safe flow lines. But Maika took the pulse of the crowd. On an overcrowded pier, crowd psychology is a top logistical priority.”