Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (62 page)

“I can imagine.” I paused before asking, “So? When you two went out? What did you do? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

She chuckled. “We went out dancing. Flirted a little, but funny thing? Almost nobody came near her. I had more guys come up to me than she did. It was weird, yanno, sar?” She looked at me with a curious light in her eyes. “I thought we’d go out and the guys would be walking over me to get to her.” She shook her head. “But they didn’t. They noticed her alright, but when somebody came to the table, it was to ask me to dance, not her.”

“I bet a lot of guys find her quite intimidating, Ms. Arellone.”

“She has something, an aura or something. I felt kinda bad for her, in a way, sar.”

“Why’s that, Ms. Arellone?”

“She seems kinda lonely to me.”

“I suspect she is, Ms. Arellone. It can’t have been easy growing up with a target painted on your forehead.”

She snorted a bitter laugh. “Well, that part I can relate to, Skipper.”

“I know you can, Ms. Arellone.” After a moment I asked, “So how are you doing?”

She considered before answering. “I’m doing okay, sar.” She sounded almost surprised.

“You spend a lot time aboard. Does it bother you?”

She shook her head. “I’m doing what I want to do, sar. There aren’t that many ables that get to do that.”

“Oh, glamorous duty like stocking galley supplies?” I asked with a teasing grin.

She laughed at that. “Well, Skipper, it’s not all that exciting, I admit, but I get to hang out with you and Ms. Mal—Ms. Maitland all the time.” She paused. “And I eat good. Not many able spacers get dinner paid for by the Captain every time they go ashore.” She grinned at me.

I gave a little laugh. “I suppose not, Ms. Arellone.” I looked around the galley, admiring the changes we’d made. “Is there anything you’d like to see? Any changes that would make the ship better? Your life better?”

She pondered it and then grinned. “I don’t suppose we could get a hot tub?”

She blind-sided me with that and a laugh barked out of me. “Where would we put it, Ms. Arellone?”

“I don’t know, sar, but you asked.” She fiddled with the hanky in her hand for a few heartbeats before glancing at me shyly out of the corner of her eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question, sar?”

Curious, I gave her my stock answer. “You can ask, Ms. Arellone, but I reserve the right not to answer.”

She grinned. “Fair enough, sar.” She twisted the hanky a couple of times before looking at me and asking, “I know it’s none of business, but what happened between you and Chief Gerheart?”

I sighed, and stared into my coffee cup, wondering how much to admit to. “I was being an ass. She told me to stop. I did.” I shrugged. “There’s not much more I can say.”

I could see her give me a sideways glance. “You know she has a thing for you, Skipper?”

I snorted. “That’s not what she said.”

Ms. Arellone graced me with one of her exasperated looks before sighing and muttering, “Men.”

I shrugged and stood. “Well, be that as it may, I’ll let you get on with your tear fest.” I left her with what I hoped was a cheerful grin and took my coffee mug up to the bridge where I could sit in the captain’s chair and stare out at the cold comfort of the ships around us, and the Deep Dark beyond.

Chapter Fifty-Five
Diurnia Orbital:
2373-February-18

Mark and April Gerard sailed up the ramp just after 1000. Both in their late sixties, his short, wiry build radiated energy while her tall, stately grace exuded calm.

“Welcome aboard,” I said, shaking hands and introducing myself.

“Thank you, Captain.” Ms. Gerard’s mellow alto matched her stature. “We’re looking forward to the trip.”

Mr. Gerard grinned affably and pumped my hand. “Call me, Mark, Captain. Everybody does.”

“If you’d come this way,” I pointed to the ladder and led the way up.

They were a curious couple. He looked around like he’d never seen the inside of a ship before, head moving in bright jerks, looking at everything with an almost birdlike curiosity. She glided along ahead of him, regal as a queen, mistress of all she surveyed, and no more interested in any of it than was proper and suitable to a lady of rank.

Ms. Maloney waited for us at the top of the ladder, smiling as we approached, and then flashing alarm when she saw the passengers behind me.

“April? Mark?” she gaped.

“Christine, my dear, we were so sorry to hear about your father.” Ms. Gerard held out her hand as if Ms. Maloney should kiss her ring and, when they shook, leaned in for the cheek kiss that some women give each other. When they stepped apart Ms. Gerard frowned. “What are you doing here, my dear? Aren’t you supposed to be halfway to Dunsany Roads?” She took in the haircut and shipsuit. “Don’t tell me the gossip rags have something right for a change.” She eyed me for a moment, and something like recognition dawned in her face. “How interesting,” she murmured.

For his part, Mr. Gerard merely leaned in and, giving her elbow a squeeze, gave her a peck on the cheek. “Wonderful to see you, Chris.”

Ms. Maloney smiled back at him briefly before returning her attention to Ms. Gerard. “I am, and it’s a long story. Let me show you to your compartment and I’ll fill you in.”

They headed down the passageway, leaving me standing at the top of the ladder. I wondered, briefly, if Ms. Maloney knew everybody in the quadrant or merely a significant portion of the population who could afford to travel by fast packet. I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. I went into the cabin to log the Gerards aboard, and figured that it was probably an advantage in the long run although I made a note to run any future passengers by her before they got aboard.

It only took a tick to log them in, and when I stepped back into the passage, I could see Ms. Maloney standing in the open door to Compartment A speaking to the couple inside. I went to the galley for coffee, and wondered who our next passenger would be, and whether our elaborate tap dance around Ms. Maloney’s identity was for nothing.

I waited for nearly a quarter stan before she came back to the galley with an amused if somewhat harried smile. “This will be an interesting trip, Skipper,” she muttered amiably enough, and began to assemble a tray of coffee and small pastries, pulling a thermal carafe I didn’t recognize out of a cabinet and mugs out of the rack. She even had a small china creamer that she filled from a jug in the cooler. In less than two ticks she took the loaded tray, and disappeared down the passage again.

I had to admire the foresight. The gods knew I hadn’t considered getting the things we would need to serve passengers in their compartments. In hindsight I probably should have but it only served to reinforce my decision to move Ms. Maloney to the galley. I hoped she was studying for a ratings exam because she really deserved more pay.

With a snort I kicked myself out of the galley, and headed back down to the lock. If at all possible I didn’t want our last passenger to have to use the klaxon. I still needed to figure out how to control that horrid noise. While being able to hear it anywhere on the ship was convenient, it was also startling.

Standing at the lock, I watched the people going by on the docks. It wasn’t an activity I got to do much. Usually I was in too much of a hurry go to someplace myself. Men and women in shipsuits, orbital coveralls, and civvies passed back and forth. Some carried bundles, more were empty-handed. All moved briskly, their breath sometimes leaving puffs of fog in the air as they moved.

As I wondered where our last passenger was, I thought about my father, and how crazy it was that we should find each other by accident across all the intervening space and time. We had enjoyed a nice visit this trip, and I apologized for not spending more time with him. He shyly admitted that he had followed me on the newsies, now that he knew who I was. It still felt awkward—for both of us, I think—but it was getting better. Ms. Arellone thought he was cute.

At 1115, just as I was about to write him off as a no-show, a handsome man in an impeccable brown suit walked up to the lock, towing a pair of grav trunks awkwardly behind him. I keyed it open before he pressed the call button.

“Hello,” I called. “Are you Mr. Dubois?”

“My name is Malcolm Dubois, yes.” He corrected my pronunciation. I’d given it the French do-bwah while he rhymed it with noise.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Dubois. I’m Captain Wang.” I stepped back from the entry, but he stood there at the foot of the ramp looking left and right down the docks.

Finally he called up to me. “Is this the ship going to Greenfields?”

“It is, indeed, sir. If you’d come aboard, we can seal up, and get ready to go.”

“There must be some mistake, Captain.” He said “captain” like there was a bad taste to the word.

I walked down the ramp to talk to him without shouting. “It’s possible, Mr. Dubois. What seems to be the problem?”

“I was expecting a passenger ship. This is a freighter.”

“Actually, sir, we’re a fast packet. We carry a bit of cargo, true. We also have passenger compartments.” I shrugged. “Is there something the matter, Mr. Dubois?”

He scowled at me. “Something the matter? The fare for this fast packet is half again more than the next ship, and it’s a freighter. You ask me if there’s something the matter?”

“You’re under no obligation to sail with us, sir, if you believe the accommodations are inadequate to your needs.” I tried very hard to keep my voice level. “I believe the next ship will have you in Greenfields by mid-April.”

He sniffed. “That won’t do.” He sighed dramatically, and looked at me and then at the ship. “But fifteen kilocreds is piracy, Captain. Piracy.”

I smiled at him. “Ahh, perhaps you’d like to negotiate the fare, Mr. Dubois? I’m amenable to a bit of a haggle...How does twenty kilocreds sound?”

He scowled. “What kind of game is this, Captain?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dubois, I thought you wanted to haggle over the price of your ticket.”

“This is outrageous, Captain, twenty is more than fifteen!”

“Yes, Mr. Dubois. And every moment we stand here freezing on the docks, I’m losing money. Would twenty-five sound better?”

“I’ve already paid fifteen, Captain, and I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

“I’ll happily refund your fare in full, Mr. Dubois, but if you’re going with us, I suggest you get aboard. I need to seal the locks so we can get underway on time.” I turned and went back aboard, stopping at the top of the ramp.

“What about my luggage, Captain!” Mr. Dubois wasn’t a happy passenger.

“By all means, bring it aboard, sir! I can open the cargo lock for you if you need it.”

He turned and looked at the pair of grav trunks behind him, and back at me before picking up the control handle and towing them up the ramp, stomping loudly and banging his trunks into the safety rails.

As soon as he cleared the ramp, I keyed the lock closed.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Dubois,” I said. “If you’d follow me, I’ll introduce you to our steward staff, and you can get settled.” I turned and started up the ladder where Ms. Maloney waited with an openly grinning Ms. Arellone.

Dubois stopped at the foot of the ladder and looked up. “You can’t be serious, Captain. You expect me to drag my trunks up that stairway? Is there no lift?”

I started to reply when I heard Ms. Maloney call down. “One moment, sir. We’ll give you a hand.”

She nodded at Ms. Arellone who shinnied down the ladder as soon as I’d cleared the top and, using the release in the deck, lowered the platform to the deck.

Ms. Maloney carefully didn’t grin at me. “You’re such a people person, Captain. I didn’t know you had it in you.” I could barely hear her voice over the sound of the ladder sinking down and the pounding in my ears.

I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Not a good start, huh?”

“Maybe you should let us do the meet and greet?” she suggested with one slightly cocked eyebrow.

We watched Ms. Arellone chivvy the grav trunks onto the platform, and with a much mollified Dubois standing beside them, key the lift and raise them all up to where we stood.

As he approached, and before he could continue his vituperation, Ms. Maloney called to him. “Welcome, Mr. Dubois. I’m Catherine Maitland. Let me show you to your compartment.” Her smoothly outstretched hand was shaking his even before the platform reached the top and she drew him carefully onto the deck. “Ms. Arellone will bring your trunks, sir. Please, just this way.” She led him carefully down the passage and into Compartment B.

Ms. Arellone smirked as she maneuvered the grav trunks off the platform and down the passage behind them.

I sighed and went to the galley, only to find the coffee pot empty. I started a fresh one and crossed back to the cabin, closing the door softly behind me so I wouldn’t slam it. Cargo was so much easier to deal with than passengers—or women.

Chapter Fifty-Six
Diurnia System:
2373-Feburary-22