Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (75 page)

She sighed. “Okay. Yes, Maynard. I am Christine Maloney also known as Catharine Maitland, Cheryl Maidstone, and Charles Morgan. Happy?”

“Charles Morgan?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Long story. Tell you later. After we find out what this is about.”

He pulled a folded paper out of his jacket pocket, and slapped it into her waiting hand. She took it, and offered to thumb Sylvester’s tablet.

He held it out, cautiously, and she thumbed it. “Give my love to Ames,” she said. “I’ll see him soon.”

Sylvester held his tablet for the officer to thumb, then they both turned heel and all but ran down the ramp. I keyed the lock closed behind them and turned to where Ms. Maloney had the folded document open, reading it quickly.

“Paper,” I said. “It must be important.”

Her face clouded as she read. “That weasel!” Her words were quiet, but hissed out her. “Dubois is suing me for battery.”

“He’s suing you for battery?”

She nodded and handed me the summons. “And he’s asking for a million credits for pain and suffering.”

“This makes no sense,” I said looking over at where she stood, arms crossed, and scowling in concentration. “He can’t possibly win this suit.”

“He doesn’t want to win it.”

I blinked. “Why would he sue you?”

“To get me off the
Iris
,” she spat. She took a deep breath, and I watched her face melt out from a concentrated frown to a smooth mask as she let it out.

She nodded once as if to herself, before turning to me. “Maynard Sylvester is a process-server that DST uses. I’ve met him several times. Self important little toad but he knows his job, and does it well.”

“So why is he delivering this?” I held up the summons. “And why do you think Dubois wants you off the
Iris
?”

“It’s typical Jarvis,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t think Dubois cares at all. I think Ames Jarvis put him up to filing this ridiculous suit to get me to violate the terms of the will. Jarvis covers his court costs, and then fights me for violation of the terms for not having the job for a full stanyer.”

“What’s the violation?”

“The summons. I have to show up in court in Greenfields.” She shrugged. “That’s going to be difficult if I’m working in the galley on the Iris.”

“Not if the
Iris
is in Greenfields,” I said with a shrug. “What’s the problem? And you should counter sue for assault and battery. Establish that you were acting in self-defense. Make sure he has a lot to think about. Maybe he’ll settle out of court.” I gave her back the paper.

She took the paper and stared at me. “You’d do that?”

“Do what? Counter sue? In a heartbeat.”

“No, Captain. Take the ship to Greenfields?”

“How else would you get there, Ms. Maitland?”

She looked stunned. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Jarvis thinks he has you trapped on the wrong end of the system with a summons to attend a court hearing in... what? Forty-five days?”

“The hearing’s on June twenty-third.” She looked up, and I could see her doing some mental gymnastics. “They must have gotten something like a ninety day window, and it’s taken this long to catch up with me.”

“You know a good lawyer there?”

She shook her head. “No, but I know a judge who might.” She looked at me with a fierce grin. “But why are you doing this, Captain? This isn’t your fight.”

I snorted. “Of course it’s my fight, Ms. Maitland. You’re crew. Besides, I’m beginning to think Mr. Ames Jarvis needs to reconsider his position.”

“It’s just business, Captain. He’s doing what he thinks is right.”

“No doubt, Ms. Maitland, but right for whom? DST or Ames Jarvis?” I frowned. “He’s only acting CEO, and if he really is behind this, then he’s the one violating the terms of the will by using the resources of DST to interfere with your stanyer aboard.”

That earned me a thoughtful look. “I’d never be able to make that stand up in probate,” she said with a tone that made me think she was contemplating doing just that. “I don’t have any evidence that he’s behind this.”

“Maybe not yet, but who knows what we might be able to turn up in Greenfields.” Another thought struck me. “How dangerous is he?”

“Who? Ames?” she asked.

“Yes. Would he resort to violence? Does he have the kinds of connections that could get you mugged, maybe?”

Her eyebrows lowered, and she bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

“How much money and power is he likely to get out of this deal if you fail, and he takes the company public?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “He probably believes he’ll stay as CEO if that happens. I haven’t been told what his deal is if I fail. Only what happens to me.”

“But it’s safe to say that he’ll be looking at a much nicer position if you don’t come back?”

“Yes, Captain, I believe that’s safe to say.”

“We’ll just have to make sure you make it back then, won’t we?” The smile I gave her was far from mirthful.

Chapter Seventy
Greenfields Orbital:
2373-June-27

With some careful planning, we docked at Greenfields just a few days before the hearing. Ms. Maloney had contacted Judge Gerard, and had retained legal representation on station.

We took advantage of the down time to work on the ship. The extra time allowed Greta to work through the maintenance protocols on all the major components on the ship, and I took the opportunity to do a thorough cargo analysis on the far end of the quadrant. It was a bit of a vacation for the two of us, while Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone spent most of their days ashore enmeshed in the web of legal positioning.

The only curiosity was that, even after a week in port, Mr. Herring didn’t run out of credits. Of course, we knew going in that we would be staying a while at Greenfields. I didn’t book either passengers or cargo for the outbound leg. He spent most of his days with us aboard. Sometimes helping us paint or clean. Occasionally helping out in engineering when Greta needed a hand. After dinner mess, he helped with clean up when we ate aboard, or saw us back to the lock on those evenings that we dined on the station, but then he faded off into the evening. Some nights he returned before breakfast. Other nights he didn’t. I marveled at the man’s stamina, even as I counted my blessings in the warm circle of Greta’s embrace.

According to Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone, the trial itself ground along with the normal amounts of wrangling, posturing, and positioning for best effect. Greta and I had planned on going to the hearing rooms for the final verdict but the pair returned in mid-afternoon of the fourth day of hearings with triumphant expressions and a jubilant hoot or two as they came through the lock. We gathered in the galley as they gave us the news.

“So, did the judge throw out the case?” Greta asked Ms. Maloney.

She shook her head. “Better than that. He filed a summary judgment in our favor. Dubois has to pay all the court costs, he gets nothing and the judge had some sharp things to say to him and his legal team for bringing the suit to begin with.”

“Why’d he let it go on so long?” I asked. “If it was such a cut and dried case, couldn’t he have thrown it out sooner?”

“Probably, but if he’d thrown it out sooner, Dubois would have been free to pursue it again.”

Ms. Arellone was grinning like a canary stuffed cat. “You shoulda seen his face, Skipper. I thought he was going to strangle his lawyer.”

Ms. Maloney chuckled. “I couldn’t see around to his side but apparently the lawyer was none too pleased with his client either.”

“What about your counter-suit?” I asked.

“That’s where we’ve been for the last stan or so,” Ms. Maloney said with a satisfied smile. “After the judge dismissed us from the hearing, his lawyer approached us with a settlement offer.”

Ms. Arellone nodded. “Dubois didn’t look too pleased about that either.”

Ms. Maloney shook her head. “No, he didn’t, but he let the lawyer do the talking.”

Ms. Arellone snickered. “Just as well.”

“So? What’d they offer?” I asked.

“I let them talk me down to a hundred thousand,” Ms. Maloney said.

Greta gasped. “Talk you down? How much were you suing him for?”

“Two million. Twice as much as he was suing me for.” She shrugged. “He figured I had deep enough pockets that he’d be able to collect, I guess.”

“Your case is a lot better than his was,” I said. “Why’d you settle for so little?”

“Lawyer’s advice. Better a settlement you can collect than one that drives the defendant into bankruptcy.”

Ms. Arellone looked disgusted. “I think the lawyer was just looking for his fee.”

Ms. Maloney gave a small shrug. “Perhaps, but it was still good advice, and it’s more than I had going in. I doubt that I could have collected much more from him.”

Ms. Arellone grimaced. “Yeah, and he all but threatened you with not being able to collect that.”

Ms. Maloney looked over at her. “Really? When’d he say that?”

“When his lawyer went back to him and Ms. Gracy brought you the news,” she said. “I was watching him, and he didn’t look all that upset by the news. He told his lawyer something like ‘We’ll see if she can collect.’ His lawyer shut him up pretty fast, and they got out of there quick, but I was looking right at his face when he said it.”

“Well, the case is still pending and we’ll let it run until he pays up.” Ms. Maloney shrugged. “If he tries to play any games, we’ll have that to fall back on.”

Greta said, “Well, this calls for a celebration. Where shall we go for dinner?”

Ms. Maloney smiled. “Excellent plan. How about that steak house up on eight?”

“It’s your celebration, Ms. Maloney,” I told her. “You call it.”

“That’s what I’m in the mood for,” she said with relish.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I announced.

Mr. Herring ambled into the galley and smiled at us. “Congratulations, Ms. Maitland,” he said with a smile.

She grinned back. “Thanks! Will you be joining us for dinner? That steak house up on deck eight around 1900?”

He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I’ve promised dinner to a lovely young lady who’s leaving in the morning.”

Ms. Arellone snickered. “Gonna warm her last few hours on station, there, Perc?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Gonna try.” He shrugged. “Ya never know how it’ll turn out.” He turned to me. “You have anything else for me to do this afternoon, Skipper?”

I shook my head. “No, I think we’ve wrapped up the work day here. Although I still wish you’d study up on astrogation. I could really use the help!” I smiled at him. “You only missed by a few points.”

He sighed and flexed his shoulders in an odd shrug. “Well, I’ve got some time for that, Skipper. We’ll see.” He looked at the chrono and smiled. “Right now? I’m gonna get cleaned up because I’ve got a date with an angel.” He smiled at all of us and headed back to the berthing area.

“How much longer do you want to stay here, Ms. Maitland?” I asked. “Another day or two?”

She considered. “I’ll check with my counselor but I think that’ll be just about right. You want to start finding cargo?”

I shook my head. “I’ll do that in the morning, and post the departure intent for passengers at the same time.” I looked at Greta. “Are we ready for space?”

She nodded. “Have been for about three days, Skipper.”

I looked at Ms. Maloney. “How we fixed for food, Ms. Maitland?”

“I’ll put in an order to top us off tomorrow. We haven’t actually used all that much.” She started to say something else, and then stopped.

“What is it, Ms. Maitland?”

She glanced at Ms. Arellone before looking back. “The Maitland thing isn’t going to fool many people any more, Captain. We may as well call me by my real name.”

“Really?” I asked.

Ms. Arellone fired up her tablet and showed me a newsie. “Shipping Heir Sued!” blazed across the top of the image of Ms. Arellone leading Ms. Maloney into the courtroom. “She’s been outed in the press, Skipper. Big time.”

I examined the article and nodded. “So it would seem. How do you feel about that, Ms. Maloney?”

She shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Do we need to get you some new shipsuits, Ms. Maloney?” I asked nodding at the name stenciled on her pocket.

She looked at it consideringly. “I hadn’t thought of that...”

Ms. Arellone suggested, “We could wash that out so it doesn’t have the wrong name on it.”

Ms. Maloney looked over to her. “Really? I thought this was permanent.”

“Enzyme based cleaner. Daub a little on and rinse in cold water. The ink will come right out.” She shrugged matter-of-factly.

Ms. Maloney looked at me. “Is it okay if I have an unnamed suit?” she asked with a grin.

I shrugged. “It’s okay with me, but I suspect you can get them re-stenciled.”

Ms. Arellone nodded. “Happens all the time.”

Ms. Maloney looked back and forth between us and then shrugged. “Okay. That’s what we’ll do.”

Greta and I left them planning the operation, and retired to the cabin. We had a couple of stans to get ready for the evening, and we put them to good use.

Chapter Seventy-One
Greenfields Orbital:
2373-June-27