Trading in Danger (37 page)

“If we leave, what will you do for a crew?” Lee said. “We can’t just leave you out here alone…”

“There are always transients,” Ky said.

“Have you looked?” Quincy asked.

“Well… no. Not yet. But it’s up to you, really. I don’t want you staying out of some guilt thing.” She yawned; she couldn’t help it. “Sorry. I’m going to go get something to drink, give you all a little while to discuss it.”

“What about us?” Li asked. “We’re not Vatta employees, really…”

“Furman says he’ll take you at least a lot closer to Slotter Key, a mainline station,” Ky said. “Or you can hire on with me, if you’re willing to learn cargo work as well as your primary specialty. Talk to Quincy—she can tell you about Vatta, and about me.” Ky pushed back her chair and stood. She was seriously tired, the accumulatedstrain of the past days settling on her shoulders like a sack of wet sand.

She decided another shower would help—after the days of rationed showers, she enjoyed the opportunity for a long one—and stood under the warm spray for several minutes. She felt better, but also even more sleepy. She meant to sit on her bunk only a moment, but suddenly her beeper was sounding, and she opened her eyes… She had slept for an hour.

Not a good sign if the crew had needed an hour to decide what to do. She braced herself to hear that they were all leaving.

“Coming,” she said. Even that brief nap had helped; her eyes no longer burned. She finished dressing and returned to the rec area. To her surprise, onlyQuincywas there. The old woman looked up at her.

“Went to sleep, did you?”

“Sorry…”

“You needed it; you were dead on your feet. We would have let you sleep longer, but we heard from Furman’s messenger.”

“Ah. And?”

“I have to tell you I’m not happy about going against your father’s wishes… I don’t want to lose my retirement because he blames me for your decisions.” So her father had told Furman to bring her home?

“I’m the captain; they’re my decisions. My father knows me; he should know that I’m stubborn enough to ignore any advice you give me.”

“Yes. I am taking that into consideration. But are you willing to tell him that and save my reputation as a reliable baby-sitter?”

“Of course,” Ky said.

“It’s been a difficult voyage, Captain. For a moment here, I’d like to talk to you in my role as designated grandma, not as crew.”

“All right.” What was coming now, a lecture about filial duty?

Quincydrew a visible breath and started in. “When your father asked us to crew for you, he told us you were studious, hardworking, smart, and honest. All that sounded good. Then he told us you had a habit of picking up strays and were headstrong as a mule. One of the things he wanted us to do was protect you from the kind of person who’d gotten you in trouble at the Academy. He didn’t say much about that, so I don’t know if it was a love affair or something else. Watch out for the lame puppies, he said. She’ll do something stupid just to help someone.”

Ky felt her ears going hot. There it was again, that same assumption… that same wrong assumption.

“And we failed,”Quincysaid. Her eyes glistened. “Gary and I—we were supposed to protect you, and we almost let you get killed by that young idiot. We hadn’t kept you from bringing him aboard, and we hadn’t kept an eye on him, and when you were carried past, the medics all looking so grim… I felt as if my own granddaughter were dying and I’d killed her. Gary felt just as bad.”

“It wasn’t your fault, either of you,” Ky said quickly, reaching for Quincy’s hand, but Quincy pulled it out of reach.

“Let me finish, please. So then you didn’t die, and you took that contract with the mercenaries… doubt you had much choice… and you came back just as cool as snow and perfectly professional. I don’t know when I’ve been as proud. You were trying to prevent the trouble you foresaw—and I hadn’t spotted it, except with that fancy-pants from the
Rose
—and I realized it was some of my engineering modifications, for the passengers, which gave Paison access to the systems, made his takeover possible. When they grabbed Gary, I was terrified; I could not imagine how we’d get out of it alive, any of us. I know he didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t act, if you could find any way to act. I’d have felt the same if they’d grabbed me. I wish they had… I’m older. But anyway—you knew what to do, and did it, and saved us. I was… useless. Not because I’m old, but because I’ve spent my life on safe ships traveling safe routes; I haven’t been in a fight since I was a child.” Quincy paused, shook her head, and then went on. “So if you were my granddaughter in truth, I’d be so proud of you—and a little scared of you—and yes, I would trust you because you’ve been right so far. What I don’t know is… can you trust me? Would you rather I went back, and let Beeah take over as Engineering First? He’s qualified, as far as the engineering goes, and I don’t think you need a baby-sitter anymore.”

Ky leaned forward. “Quincy… please. Don’t blame yourself. It was not your fault. You’ve been a wonderful resource, and of course I trust you. But if you want to go back, I’ll understand…”

Quincy blinked back her tears and managed a shaky grin. “I thought I did… I really thought I did. I’ve never served with anyone who’s… who’s killed someone. At least that I knew about. It was… awful. Your face, when you came back to the bridge. But you know, Ky—and I’m calling you Ky in the person of that grandmother—I’ve decided I’d rather stick with you and find out what you’re going to do next. For one thing, I’d miss my shipmates, all of whom want to stay with you except Li, who says she’d rather go somewhere with Furman, if he’ll take her.”

Ky’s throat closed; she swallowed the lump of emotion, and nodded. “Thank you… thank you, Grandma Quincy.”

“And another thing… you’ve been through a lot—we all have, but you more, because of the injury. You haven’t been able to take it easy, as I’m sure you were advised to do by the medical people. Right?”

“Yes…”

“So I’m telling you, as the resident grandma, to start taking it easier. Yes, we have repairs to make, a cargo to load, a contract to fulfill. But I want to see you taking regular sleep shifts of adequate length, eating the proper foods, exercising, and letting your now-enlarged crew do its work. Clear?”

“Yes, Grandma,” Ky said.

“And expect emotional fallout… You’ve been holding yourself together, which we all needed. What you need now is a chance to let go. Don’t fight it too hard or too long.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ky said again.

“End of Grandma’s lecture,” Quincy said. She took a deep breath. “Good heavens, I can’t believe I’ve just been so dramatic. Now, Captain, Beeah has a list of suppliers and prices. I can review them for you, and let you rest, or you can review them, whichever. Keeping in mind the advice I just gave you…”

“Quincy, I’d like you to review suppliers, prices, and our needs, and make it all come in under budget. Somehow. We’ll also need to resupply the galley—” At the look on Quincy’s face, Ky laughed. “All right, all right, Grandma already knows what to do with an egg. I’m going to go send that message to Captain Furman’s messenger, then take your advice and get more sleep. In fact, I may sleep until first shift tomorrow.”

“Yes, Captain,” Quincy said.

Sending the message took only moments; Ky didn’t wait for a reply, but went back to her cabin, stripped off her clothes, and fell into the bed without even updating her log. She woke slowly, rising gradually through layers of thought and memory and finally opened her eyes to see that she had, in fact, slept through the rest of second and all of third shift. She stretched, feeling a little stiff but really rested for the first time in… well, since she’d come back to the ship the day the ansibles were attacked.

She rolled out of her bunk, showered, dressed, and came out into the corridor where the smell of cooking food drew her to the galley. Garlan was cooking breakfast.

“Captain—you’re up.”

“Finally,” Ky said. “You must have wondered if I’d sleep forever.”

“You look better. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever that is—make some more of it. It smells like exactly what I want.”

“Sure. Eggs and sausage, easy enough.”

Ky ate a full plate of eggs, sausage, potatoes, a slice of fresh melon—she wondered what that had done to the budget—and considered her schedule. She still had to get that machinery back to the station and aboard, locate the parts, have them installed, find out how to get the right ship chip installed in the beacon, get Li transferred to the
Katrine Lamont
, see if ISC had any bandwidth for commercial messages yet so that she could let Belinta know their tractors were, in fact, coming… oh, and the mail from home. With the clarity of a full night’s sleep, she remembered that she was not supposed to put in an implant without a neuro evaluation, with the recommendation that it not be done for six months, so she didn’t have to decide right away whether or not to put in the implant her father had sent.

When she came onto the bridge, Lee nodded to her. “Quincy’s put a stack of things on your deskcomp; you’ll need to sign off on the orders. Looks good, Captain; she found a supplier for everything we need. There’s not a current opening in any of the good refitting yards, but she says we can install the sealed unit ourselves. Insystem drive’s fuel price is up, but not impossibly high. She says everyone’s being cooperative, so we should hurry up and get out before they change their attitude.”

“Good,” Ky said. She opened her desk. Sealed unit for FTL, yes. New liner to replace the old cavitation-damaged one. Replacement for communications transmitter. Upgrade for scan—upgrade for scan? She hadn’t asked for that… but she would like it if they could afford it. Beacon repair. Replacement ship chip… unavailable.

The explanation made sense, though it was a pain. Under UCC regulations, no two ships could have the same identifier chip.
Glennys Jones
’ original chip couldn’t be turned in for a new chip, because it was somewhere in space, probably still in Paison’s pocket. Never mind that no one was going to find that chip… it had not been turned in, so a chip identifying the ship as
Glennys Jones
could not be issued, even with a replacement registration number. The Universal Commercial Code had very strict requirements; Slotter Key and Sabine Prime were both signatories to the agreements. The ship would have to be reregistered—most easily as out of Sabine Prime, with some difficulty out of Slotter Key, if the Slotter Key embassy would cooperate.

All Vatta ships carried Slotter Key registry. Ky put in a call to the Slotter Key embassy, but it was nighttime there, and it would be hours before the consul saw it. And what would she do if he refused her request? What if Captain Furman got to him first?

And what should she name the ship instead? Certainly not
Mist Harbor
. Finding a unique ship name wasn’t easy; the first eight or ten she tried in the database came up with the notation “unavailable: in service.” Was it even worth registering a ship that was going to be scrapped anyway?

But it was not going to be scrapped anyway. And finally she thought of a name that no one would have used yet, a name she wanted to honor. She called Quincy on the intercom.

“What?” Her chief engineer was clearly busy and not in the mood to chat.

“We need a new ship name. What about the
Gary Tobai
?”

A long silence. Then Quincy said, “That would do. Yeah. He’d like that.”

Ky entered it in the database, and as she expected found no match. She put a reserve tag on it with a three-day permit—surely she’d hear in three days, and she could renew the hold if she had to.

Two hours into day shift for the Slotter Key embassy—and well into second shift for Ky—she heard from the consul. “I hear you lost one of those people we sent you,” he said.

“He disobeyed orders and did something stupid,” Ky said.

“Why am I not surprised—the young blond one, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you need to fill out some forms for us. The embassy has to report all injuries and deaths of Slotter Key citizens for the D & A report. I’ll have those sent up to you. What about funeral arrangements?”

“He didn’t have anything on file with us, but one of the others told me he was a Modulan, so I thought we’d combine his service with the one for one of the other crew.”

“Sounds good. I’ll notify the family that services were held… what date?”

Ky looked at the calendar and answered in terms of the local calendar.

“You’ll be in attendance?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll tell them services were held with the captain in attendance. Remains?”

“I have no idea. I was unconscious and in surgery at the time the remains were disposed of.”

“Good enough. The rest of the forms are coming up shortly. Now, what else?”

“I have to reregister the ship,” Ky said. “Vatta ships all carry Slotter Key registry. Can we do that?”

“We could,” he said, “if your senior captain in system, Captain Furman, hadn’t told me that your ship was up for scrap and Vatta would not sanction an offworld licensing fee.”

“And how much would that be?” Ky asked.

“You’re not going to like the answer,” he said.

“Which is…?”

“It’s not worth it, really. Two hundred fifty thousand credits for a ship of that mass. You can get a perfectly viable Sabine registration for one hundred thousand—it’d be fifty thousand if you were a Sabine citizen. We charge that much for out-of-system registration just to discourage people…”

Ky found her jaw on the floor and yanked it back up with an effort. “Two hundred fifty thousand for a ship chip and a piece of paper?”

“And the honor of the Slotter Key government. Yes. I said it wasn’t worth it.”

“It’s ridiculous. It’s outrageous.”

“Yes, it is. But it’s what I have on my list, so it’s what I have to do. So let me know what you want…”

Ky had no idea what reputation Sabine Prime ships had in the universe; she’d already discovered that Slotter Key might be a liability. Still, Slotter Key was her planet and her government and she felt uneasy about changing the registration to something else.

The money problem still existed. She had the money for the sealed unit, for the fuel, for resupply of the galley, but she didn’t have a spare 100,000 credits, let alone 250,000, for the new license. Another thought occurred, almost as unsettling. She called up the Sabine registration database.

Sure enough, to register the ship under the Sabine flag, it would have to undergo a full inspection and pass as sound. She called up those criteria for the ship’s size. As she’d expected the ship would not pass Sabine’s very stringent safety inspection, even with all repairs in place. She’d need to install a new communications system, new scans, a more powerful beacon… and the combined cost of these quickly surged past the cost of a Slotter Key registration. Slotter Key, on the other hand, required no inspection for offworld registrants.