Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (13 page)

He colored a bit and mumbled, “She’s a good woman.”

I grinned at the top of his head and, if I didn’t have a twinge of envy, then it was very close.

“But that doesn’t answer the question about you, Skipper.” He looked up at me. “Do you have a place to stay on the orbital?”

I shook my head. “Not at the moment. Things have been moving too fast for me to really focus on. I can always grab a room at one of the hotels.”

He started chuckling, almost to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

“We’ve been focused on the very short term picture here.”

I nodded. “Yeah, and...?”

“And in, what? Ten standard days or so, you’re going to become one of the wealthiest individuals in the quadrant, and the most eligible bachelor in this end of the Western Annex.” He chuckled again.

“Oh, no. That can’t be.”

He nodded. “If you get as many credits as they’re saying? You’re going to be chased by the paparazzi and your every spare moment will be dogged by gossip mongers looking to be the first to report who you’re eating dinner with.”

“No!” The reality that he was spinning out made perfect sense, but I couldn’t really deal with that.

“I can see the headlines now. ‘Tragic Captain Dines Alone Again!’”

“Why tragic?” I couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Because you’re dining alone, of course. You’ll be a wonderfully tragic figure.”

I closed my eyes and tried to will the thoughts away, but I couldn’t help but snicker. The more I tried not to, the more I did. The more I did, the more Avery did and it soon became a giggle fest of the first order.

When I finally caught my breath, I topped off my mug and headed for the ladder .“I’ve got some packing to do, I think.”

That sobered us both up pretty quickly. “Need any help?”

I shook my head. “Naw. I haven’t been here that long and it all should go into the grav trunks I brought aboard.” I grinned back at him. “Do you think Gwen will want the cabin painted?”

He started laughing again and I made my exit before I got sucked in.

Chapter Ten
Diurnia Orbital:
2372-December-20

The overnight watch ticked over without incident. I spend a big chunk of it in the cabin with my grav trunks locked in the middle of the deck. Other than my uniforms and the loose stuff in the head, I found surprisingly little that I wanted to take with me. I wanted to ask Gwen if she wanted any of the hangings. They were really carpets that the co-op had picked up for trade and I’d bought them before they had a chance to do much more than get them aboard. I kept looking at them, thinking I’d leave them if she wanted them.

I spent a couple of stans near the end of the watch making sure my logs were up to date and clearing the backlog of message traffic so Gwen wouldn’t come into the same kind of mess that greeted me on arrival. I had an odd sense of peace about the whole thing. It struck me as odd, like I should have been angry, or even sad that I was leaving my first command under such artificial conditions. While I did feel a bit of sadness, a small regret that I’d not be there to see how they’d carry on, there was an offsetting feeling of anticipation.

Of course, I had no idea what would happen with the
Chernyakova
and a small part of my brain was back there screaming at me, trying to tell me that it was all going to come tumbling down, that I shouldn’t be leaving this ship. Another part, I hoped a more rational part, was taking a broader view. Much of the circumstance that had me wrapped up was caused by the sudden death of Geoff Maloney. If things went as planned, I wouldn’t ever worry about credits again, and if they didn’t, well, I had quite a nice bit set aside and with some careful management, it would see me back on a bridge somewhere.

Finally, around 0400, I’d done all I could. It left me with a sense of closure. Looking ahead at the day, if it went as we expected, it would go smoothly. If it didn’t go that way, we’d have a good foundation upon which to base our new solutions. It felt pretty good, and I smiled as I started a fresh pot of coffee and started puttering around the galley to make breakfast. Mr. Wyatt came down around 0415 and joined me. He smiled to see me smiling. We didn’t talk much, just set about the tasks that we both knew needed to happen to feed our crew.

“Thank you, Ishmael.” He said during a lull in the activity.

I looked over at him from where I was working biscuit dough on the counter. “Thank you, Avery. You’ve done everything I ever asked and more.”

He snorted a soft laugh. “You knew what to ask and nobody else did. How did you do that?” His voice had a kind of wondering quality to it.

“I’m not a spacer, Avery—”

His single laugh echoed around the mess deck.

I smiled at him. “I didn’t start out a spacer, okay?”

He nodded.

“I never know what’s supposed to happen because I’m just not from around here. Everything I do is something I’ve learned to do since my eighteenth birthday, not something I grew up with. At every step, I’ve had to ask not just what, and how, but why? A lot of the time, the answer is habit. We’ve always done it that way, so we’ll keep doing it.” I shook my head. “And I don’t know how it’s always been done, so I find all these odd things—like bad standing orders and crazy jump parameters.”

“And cargo chiefs who get cargo assignments from central dispatch.” He grinned at me.

“Yeah, that, too, but that’s how. It’s because I don’t know much about this place and I’m constantly asking the kinds of questions that nobody else does because they already know the answers. I’m so dumb, I have to ask.”

“Yeah, your dumbness has really taken its toll here, Skipper.” He smiled at me and flipped some bacon out of the broiler and onto a plate for the warming oven.

We worked along for a while longer, before he spoke again. “Anyway. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I said.

At 0545 Gwen came down to relieve the watch and carefully didn’t ask if there was any news although I could see the strain of not asking around her mouth.

“Long night?” I asked her.

“A bit, but I’ve had longer. How about you? Long watch?”

I shook my head. “I found a few things to do and managed to stay busy.”

She gave a low chuckle. “I just bet.”

At 0600 Avery announced breakfast mess and I took my place at the head of the mess line, leading the parade. As we all settled at the table, Mr. Pall looked up at me with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Well, Skipper, your predictions from last night aren’t holding up so well, are they?” The grin on his face told me he was up to something, but I couldn’t image what it was until I looked around the table and realized that the whole crew was present again.

I shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive me, Mr. Pall, but what are the odds of that happening twice on consecutive meals while in port.”

He toasted me with his mug. “You had the odds in your favor, I’ll grant you, Captain, but there’s a lesson for ya. Even the longest odds occasionally come in.”

I clinked my mug to his with a wry smile. “Too true, Mr. Pall, and I’ll take this lesson to heart.”

That broke the rather brittle silence and we passed a pleasant stan at breakfast, each of us apparently enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. We finished up and began clearing away. Nobody wandered far and the cleanup went particularly quickly. There was a certain sense of anticlimax but also of anticipation. At 0745 Misters Schubert and Hill headed up to the flea market. Ms. Arellone was on the brow and the rest of us settled around the table.

“You know this could be a long wait, right?” I asked, looking around at the assembled crew.

Mr. Pall looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “You don’t really expect us to wander off with this hanging over us, do you, Captain?”

I shrugged. “I suppose not.”

We sat there awkwardly for a few ticks, sipping coffee and not talking.

Avery asked, “Should we break out the cards or something?”

“Isn’t there something we’re supposed to be doing?” the chief asked with a brittle edge to her voice.

“Well, how are we fixed for getting underway?” I asked.

They all looked at me. “If this all comes tumbling down, and none of the plans works out the way we think they will, then we’re getting underway tomorrow before they can change their minds.” I grinned at them.

The chief started to laugh softly.

“Stores, Mr. Wyatt?” I started the familiar litany.

“Final shipment of fresh produce due tomorrow morning, Captain, but all freezers, chillers, and non-perishables are stocked and ready.”

“Chief? How are the girls feeling?”

“Feisty and ready to go, Skipper. Full tanks and all systems charged. Port scrubber was just changed out. Starboard’s good for another couple of weeks.”

“Astrogation? We got all the updates loaded, Mr. Pall?”

“We do, Skipper. Cleared for Jett and all updates for the quadrant have been loaded. I have our exit course plotted and ready to file as soon as we have a go. Currently scheduled for 1525 tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ms. Thomas, it seems the ship is in good shape and ready to go.”

“For the moment, Skipper,” she said with a gentle smile.

My tablet bipped me and I pulled open the message. Everybody went silent, waiting for me to finish. I was conscious of their intense scrutiny and tried very hard to control my expression.

“Congratulations, Captain Thomas,” I said looking across the table with a genuine smile.

We all sat there, listening to the blowers pushing the air through the vents for a full tick before she pulled herself together enough to say, “Thank you.”

It broke the spell and I continued with the news. “Your license is on its way over by courier and should be delivered to me shortly. Ms. Kingsley will be here at noon for the change of command ceremony. I’m almost all packed, and will vacate the cabin immediately.”

They all looked at me, each with a different expression. The new Captain Thomas looked a bit stunned, but Avery was by her side, and he simply regarded me with a small smile. Mr. Pall’s expression had a bit of awe around the edges, but the chief’s expression carried a hefty dose of contemplation, as if she were seeing me for the first time and wondering who I was.

Avery recovered first. “Well, then, we need to find a new First Mate, then, don’t we?”

That got Captain Thomas’s attention and she nodded to him almost absently. “Should we post the opening, Captain?”

I shook my head. “Come up to the cabin. I looked at the waiting lists last night and have a couple of prospects you should look at. If you don’t like the looks of them, I’ll show you how to file it with home office.”

“All right, then,” Avery said. “I need to find something for lunch mess. Do you think Ms. Kingsley will join us after?”

I chuckled. “I don’t know, Avery. Anything is possible, I suppose.”

He frowned and untangled himself from the bench. “Well, let me just see what I have in my bag of tricks.” Mumbling to himself he headed back to the stores area, closing the door behind him.

We all stood after that and went our separate ways. The chief headed down to engineering, Mr. Pall went up to the brow, and Captain Thomas followed me up the ladder to the cabin.

When we entered, she spotted the two grav trunks in the middle of the deck, and the empty spot above the desk where my master’s license had hung. She gave me a wan smile. “I thought you were kidding, Captain.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I packed everything but the wall hangings and the cushions on the bench. The cushions kinda go on the bench, but you could have them recovered if you want. The wall hangings are just decoration, but I left them up in case you want them.”

She looked around in a daze. “Funny,” she said. “I’ve been in here dozens of times, maybe hundreds.” She looked at me. “I feel like this is the first time I’ve seen it—really seen it.”

“Well, you know, Mr. Maloney had a tradition of offering to paint the cabin for any new captain.” I looked around. “This is kinda dark colored, you might be thinking of what color you want to have them paint it for you.”

She shook her head. “I like this, and it’s not been that long since you painted it.” She wandered around the cabin, into the sleeping cabin and the head. “No, I like these colors.” She contemplated the wall hangings. “The wall hangings you can take. I’ve got some of my own I’ll put up.”

It was a matter of less than a tick for me to get them down, folded and stowed in the top of a grav trunk. I latched the top and crossed to the desk.

“Let’s take a look at these first mates and see if you like any of them.”

We spent a few ticks with her looking over my shoulder at the console screen, reviewing the names and faces, dossiers and service jackets. In reviewing them the night before, I was surprised to see names I recognized. It really was a small community, and the hiring pool only reinforced that.

When we got to the end of the list, Gwen plunked herself down on the bench and crossed her hands on her lap.

“Who do you like?” I asked her. “Any of them?”

“Alan Benedict,” she said after only a short pause. “He’s got tractor experience, he was third mate on the
Achilles
, and he was first for a stanyer on a mixed freight hauler—the
Boondocks
, wasn’t it?”