Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (52 page)

We had a short discussion of his previous experience, his expectations, what his next rating exam might be, and items of general interest for captains and helm watches. By 0820, I had what I needed from an interview. I gave Ms. Arellone the high sign, and stood to shake hands with Mr. Branch. Ms. Arellone bussed her dirty mug, and I saw Mr. Branch take a final sip from his while he watched her. He placed it back down on the table.

“Thank you, Mr. Branch. We’re getting underway this afternoon. Would that be a problem?”

“No, Captain. I’m packed and ready to ship out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Branch. We’ll send notifications by noon. Ms. Arellone will show you out.”

He nodded, and followed Ms. Arellone off the mess deck and down the ladder. In a tick I heard the lock open and close again. Ms. Arellone returned.

I stood and, taking his cup along with mine, crossed to the dishwasher. “Thoughts?”

They looked at each other and shrugged. Ms. Arellone said, “Cute butt. Kinda bland. The decoration...?” she made a little zigzaggy motion with her finger along the sides of her head. “Pure cheddar.”

“He left his mug,” Ms. Maloney said nodding at the table.

Ms. Arellone looked at the empty table. “Where?”

Ms. Maloney grinned. “The captain put it in the rack.”

Ms. Arellone frowned in consternation. “I didn’t notice.”

“Next up is Ordinary Spacer Percival Herring,” I told Ms. Arellone.

“Oh, gods, it’s not!” Ms. Arellone exclaimed. “What mother saddles her kid with a name like that?”

I eyed her with a wry expression. “I don’t know, Ms. Arellone. I’m partial to unusual names, myself.”

She blanched. “I’m sorry, Captain! I, um, didn’t even think...that is, you’re Captain Wang and not...”

“It’s okay, Ms. Arellone.” I grinned at her. “My name is strange, and only the fact that I spent my formative years in a university setting where most people had stranger names than Ishmael Horatio Wang kept me from permanent scarring.”

They both laughed, and Ms. Arellone headed back down to the lock.

At 0855 the klaxon announced the next contestant in our Pick-a-Spacer competition, and Ms. Arellone brought up a wiry, little guy in a pale gray jumpsuit. The suit itself had seen better days, threadbare about the elbows and knees, and frayed a bit at the back of the cuffs. The man in the suit seemed barely old enough to have worn it out. He stood just over a meter and a half tall and was one of the few people I’d seen who was shorter than Ms. Arellone. His most striking feature was his hair. Even cropped in a spacer buzz that needed a trim, the coppery, red color showed clearly.

I smiled, offered him a seat, and sat across from him.

Ms. Maloney brought him his coffee, and he turned quickly, almost startled, when she leaned forward to place it on the table. He offered her a friendly smile, and held out his hand. “Hi, Ms....” he looked at her name badge... “Maitland. Perc Herring. Nice to meet you and thanks!”

She smiled back, and shook his hand. “Catharine Maitland. Nice to meet you, too, Perc.” She released his hand, and went back to the galley.

We shared a brief bout of badinage wherein Spacer Herring held up his end of the conversation and answered each of my questions politely and succinctly—even modestly. Our Mr. Herring actually held able spacer rank, a fact which showed on his record, but which he did not mention until asked.

He seemed surprised. “Well, Captain, the posting was for ordinary spacer. That’s what you asked for, so that’s what I gave you, sar.”

I had to admit he made sense. When the chrono clicked to 0920, I gave Ms. Arellone a cue, and she bussed her mug as I stood and thanked him for coming. He shook my offered hand firmly, and, followed Ms. Arellone’s lead by taking his nearly full cup and racking it before following her out of the galley.

Ms. Maloney gave me a look that was halfway between surprised and intrigued. “Interesting test, Captain,” she murmured as Ms. Arellone banged back up the ladder.

Mirth lit her face as she burst into the galley. “He may be a keeper, Skipper.”

“Why do you say so, Ms. Arellone.”

“Skipper? You have to ask?” She looked back and forth between Ms. Maloney and I. “Did you see the color of his hair?”

I snorted. “Indeed I did, Ms. Arellone. I don’t remember seeing red that precise shade before. You think we should hire him because he’s a redhead?”

“Sar? We’d have our own Red Herring!”

I groaned. “Did you just come up with that, Ms. Arellone?”

She shook her head, barely containing her mirth. “No, Skipper. He did.”

“He did?”

She nodded emphatically. “He said he hoped he’d get the job because every ship needs a little red herring. Then he winked, and wished me a safe voyage regardless of who you chose.”

It was an odd comment but one guaranteed to keep his name on our lips a few more ticks after his interview ended. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had recognized Ms. Maloney.

“So, other than the opportunity for dreadful puns, Ms. Arellone? Your opinion?”

She shrugged. “He made me laugh, and he knew his way around.”

I turned to Ms. Maloney. “And you?”

“Personable, bright, and energetic,” she said listing off three obvious positive characteristics. “But why is he ashore? And why the ‘poor me’ shipsuit?”

“Both very good questions, Ms. Maloney. Thank you.”

She nodded, and I turned back to Ms. Arellone. “The next candidate is Able Spacer Winona Davis.”

We didn’t have as long to wait as we might have expected. The klaxon rang at 0945 and Ms. Arellone had to scamper down to the lock.

She returned with a depressingly proper candidate who stepped into the mess deck and braced to attention. “Sar, Able Spacer Winona Davis reporting, sar.”

She was impeccable. From the polished toes of her boots to the carefully buzzed hair, she radiated power and authority. I offering her a seat, and she took it crisply, nodding a polite acknowledgment when Ms. Maloney brought her coffee.

I slouched in my chair, and we had a conversation that consisted of me asking questions and her responding crisply with proper and tersely exact answers. By 1005 I felt exhausted and gave Ms. Arellone the nod, standing and thanking Ms. Davis for coming. Ms. Davis stood and shook my hand, ignoring Ms. Arellone, and resuming a stance that was half attention and half ready to move. We stood like that for a few heartbeats while Ms. Arellone waited at the door to the galley. Call me slow on the uptake but the pause got awkward before I thought to say, “Dismissed, Ms. Davis.”

Ms. Arellone returned to the galley shaking her head slowly.

“Thoughts, Ms. Arellone?” I asked.

She grimaced. “Well she was certainly the most proper, even impressive.”

“She was impressive, Ms. Arellone. Even showed up quite properly at a quarter til the hour.”

Ms. Arellone nodded, but the frown never left her face.

“Ms. Maloney?” I asked.

“Ms. Davis apparently knows the book, Captain.”

“She does that, Ms. Maloney, and demonstrated it quite effectively for us.” I knew which one I thought would fit best, but I looked at them and asked, “Which one do we hire?”

They shared a glance and I found Ms. Maloney staring at the untouched mug still resting where she’d put it on the table.

Ms. Arellone spoke first. “Under normal circumstances, I’d vote for the best butt.”

We both looked at her, and I think Ms. Maloney actually giggled a little.

She shrugged. “He’s young, competent, has a bit of style, and a nice butt. Not much in the way of personality, but we already have a full load of personalities on the ship.”

I had to chuckle because she was absolutely correct. I took her word on the butt, because it was an attribute I seldom noticed.

“But I think he’d be a bit boring, sar,” she finished up. “I can imagine being cooped up with him on the ship for weeks at a time and the thought isn’t pretty.”

“So, your vote?”

“I’d vote for Red Herring, sar. We already have a crazy uncle. Why not add a wacky younger brother?”

“Not the impressive Ms. Davis?” I asked her.

“It’s cold enough out in the Deep Dark, sar.” Her answer was a bit bleak, but fit my thinking as well.

“Ms. Maloney?” I turned to her.

“Of the three of them, Mr. Herring seems like the best fit for the ship, Captain. I can’t speak to competence, but he’s got the most presence. I think he’d work well with passengers as well.”

I nodded and shrugged. “We’re unanimous then but we’d better lay in a supply of tea. Ms. Maloney if you’d recommend some for me, I’ll get it ordered.”

“Tea, sar?” Ms. Arellone asked.

“Mr. Herring is a tea drinker. He was just too polite to say so.”

She frowned at me. “How can you tell, sar?”

I shrugged. “He sipped at the coffee, but didn’t actually drink much, if any. Leaves me to suspect that he’s not a coffee drinker but he’s been around ships long enough to know how much we love our coffee. He didn’t want to draw attention to his perversity so he just went along. If he doesn’t drink coffee then he probably drinks tea. Even if he doesn’t, it seems like something we should have in the galley for passengers.”

Ms. Maloney looked a bit startled, but nodded.

“Ms. Maloney, if you’d suggest some teas for me in a bit, I’ll make an order for delivery before we get underway.”

“Aye, aye, sar,” she said and pulled out her tablet, making notes.

“Thank you, both. I’ll go pass the word to our candidates, and we should probably make up Dr. Leyman’s bunk for him. He’ll be reporting soon.”

A chorus of “Aye, aye, Captain” followed me out of the galley.

Chapter Forty-Five
Welliver Orbital:
2373-January-13

Dr. Leyman and Mr. Herring arrived at the lock at almost the same time. Mr. Herring’s arrival occurred so promptly on the tails of the offer, I wondered where he had been living.

I had given Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone their choice of staying in their original compartment or moving to the newer one, and since the two were practically identical, they chose to stay in the aft compartment. Mr. Herring moved into the empty crew space, and Dr. Leyman took up residence in what we started calling Compartment A.

A quick check of the tags on Mr. Herring’s shipsuits gave us the sizes, and I placed a rush order for five each with his name on them to match the ones that Ms. Arellone and Ms. Maloney already had.

All told, we had a busy morning.

At noon, Ms. Maloney served a delightful chicken-rice soup with more of her crusty bread. The scent of baking bread permeated the ship while we finalized our departure arrangements, and got new crew and passenger settled. It was a lively meal, made more so by Dr. Leyman’s obvious pleasure at being aboard.

As the meal wound down toward dessert, I walked through my normal check list.

“Chief? Is the ship ready to go?”

“Oh, aye, Cap. Tanks topped, and all the fiddly bits are present or accounted for.”

“Thank you, Chief. Ms. Maloney, have we received the last replenishment order from the chandlery?”

“Not yet, Captain, but they assured me that the tea you ordered, and the shipsuits for Mr. Herring will be along shortly after 1300.”

“Thank you, Ms. Maloney.”

I could see Mr. Herring looking a bit flummoxed by the name but I let him stew.

“Ms. Arellone, I’d like you to pilot us out today, if you please?”

“Me, Captain?” She shot a nervous look at Dr. Leyman.

“You’re the only Ms. Arellone we have, I believe, and you’re also working toward your ship handling rating, I believe?”

“Well, yes, Skipper, but...”

“It’s easy, Ms. Arellone, and I’ll be right there with you.”

“Mr. Herring, I’d like you to stand by the forward lock while we pull back. I’ll show you how to manage the equipment after lunch mess.”

“Aye, aye, sar.” He looked around the table as if trying to figure out what was happening.

“Andy? Would you like to ride out with us up on the bridge?”

His eyes got round. “Me, Captain?”

“I think Ms. Arellone already used that line, Andy.”

We had a good laugh while he wrestled with the idea.

“I’d be delighted, Captain. I didn’t know it was even possible.”

“Well, it’s rather boring once we get out of the immediate local area. Lots of dark.”

Ms. Maloney leaned forward to look around Ms. Arellone. “Don’t let him kid you, Andy. It’s wonderful.”

“Very well, then,” I said. “We’ll seal the lock after the chandlery order arrives. I’ve planned push back for 1530.” I looked to Ms. Maloney. “I’ll secure from navigation stations by 1600 or so, Ms. Maloney, so you’ll be able to deal with dinner.”

“Thank you, Captain. That should be fine.”

“Excellent.” I smiled around the table once. “Let’s move on with the afternoon already in progress, shall we?”

As the party broke up, everybody, including Dr. Leyman helped with the first blush of cleanup, clearing off the table, and getting things stacked.

When that was over, I took Mr. Herring down to the lock, showed him where everything was, and how to go about doing it without actually undocking the ship. He took it all in with rapt attention, and I took it as a good sign that he could recite it all back to me.