Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1)

by Nathan Lowell

  Natalya chuckled and headed for her stateroom to change into something other than her best khakis. She had just zipped up her working shipsuit when Zoya knocked on the door to the head.

  “You there?”

  Natalya opened the door. “Yup. What’d Hardwall want?”

  Zoya held out a hand, palm up. A thumb drive glinted in the bright lights from the overhead. “He slipped me this while the captain and Rewers were saying their fond farewells.”

  “Hardwall was your contact?” Natalya shook her head quickly a couple of times to see if she might rattle some sense into it.

  “So it would seem. How he knew to find me here, now? They clearly know more about what’s going on with this ship than Captain Trask believes.”

  Natalya ruffled fingers through her cropped hair. “Maybe,” she said. “He’s said some things the last few days that make me think he believes they know exactly who we are and what we’re doing here.”

  “Then what’s with all the smuggling talk, about not getting caught? If they know already, what’s the big deal?”

  Natalya shook her head. “Right hand, left hand, maybe.”

  “Plausible deniability?” Zoya asked.

  “Deny to whom?”

  “What’s the relationship between TIC and CPJCT?”

  “You think TIC is keeping it out of CPJCT’s oversight?” Natalya asked.

  “You’re the expert in Toe-Holds,” Zoya said. “You tell me.”

  Natalya spun the ideas around in her head but nothing jelled. “We need to get ready to dust off here. See you after dinner?”

  Zoya’s gaze unfocused for a few heartbeats. “I pass off the watch to the skipper at 1800. He’ll have it until midnight when Blanchard comes on.” She nodded. “After dinner.” She closed the door and Natalya scooted down the spine in time to take her seat before Zoya’s voice on the announcer called the ship to navigation stations.

  Chapter 35

  Siren System: 2363, July 23

  After the dinner mess, Natalya and Zoya retired to Zoya’s stateroom to examine the chip.

  “Are you going to just plug it into your tablet?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya frowned at the chip. “There could be anything on it.”

  “If it’s compromised, whatever’s on that chip can get directly into the ship’s systems.”

  Zoya nodded but shrugged. “Why would TIC give us a compromised chip?”

  “Maybe to get remote access to the ship?”

  Zoya snorted. “They already know more than I’m comfortable with.”

  “So? I thought they were on your side?”

  “So did I,” Zoya said, her voice low and her brow still furrowed.

  “If we had the Peregrine, we could use her sandbox to look at the chip without exposing the network.”

  “I wonder if Blanchard can help us,” Zoya said.

  Natalya felt her eyebrows rising. “Would you trust him?”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “We need a story.”

  “We need a standalone chip reader,” Zoya said.

  Natalya grinned. “Duh.”

  “What?” Zoya asked.

  “Ship’s library.”

  “It’s on ShipNet. What are you getting at?”

  Natalya shook her head. “I bet it’s not. I’ll bet you credits to crescent rolls that the ship has some readers dedicated to ‘private time’ displays.”

  “Wha—?” Zoya’s voice choked off and her eyes got wide. “Oh, ‘private time.’ Like when somebody’s brought a bit of entertainment media aboard? Something not for general consumption?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Zoya’s face took on a bit of a ruddy glow. “How would we find such a unit?”

  “We ask for one. Who’s the morale officer?”

  Zoya’s lips crumpled into a wry grin. “Not CPJCT, remember. Ancillary duties are going to be sketchy.”

  “We ask Blanchard. He’s in charge of systems. Logically that includes keeping digital freeloaders from hitching a ride on our ShipNet every time some horny spacer plugs in for some sexy time without partner.”

  A ruddy glow crept up the back of Zoya’s neck and over her ears.

  “My goodness, Zee. You aren’t that naïve are you?”

  Zoya chewed on her response for a while. “Sheltered childhood,” she said after more than a few heartbeats. She didn’t look up at Natalya.

  Natalya reached over and patted Zoya’s forearm. “I’ll ask Blanchard. Who knows? We might get some loaners, too.”

  “Ew. Loaners? Really?”

  Natalya twiddled the fingers on her left hand and waggled her eyebrows. “South paw rules.”

  Zoya swatted her on the shoulder. “I didn’t need to know that.”

  Natalya laughed. “Sorry, bunkie. We’re learning so much more about each other now that we’re not sharing a room.”

  “Spare me the details, all right?”

  “Skipper’s got the watch?” Natalya asked.

  “He relieved me at 1745.”

  “Just like real fleet,” Natalya said.

  “He’s old guard. Not sure why he’s out here with the riff-raff.”

  “So Blanchard is off. I’ll go knock on his door.”

  “Won’t you be embarrassed?”

  Natalya shook her head. “Why? It’s not like I’m doing anything illegal. They don’t even have a nonfraternization policy on this ship. Who knows how many bunk bunnies are breeding down in the crews’ quarters.”

  Zoya sighed. “Now you’re trying too hard.”

  Natalya stood and shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for tryin’.”

  “You are trying. I’ll give you that.”

  Natalya laughed and headed out the door. “Be right back.”

  It took Natalya just a few steps to knock on Blanchard’s door. He opened it almost immediately. “Natalya? I didn’t expect you here. Problem?”

  Natalya shook her head. “Do we have such a thing as a firewalled reader aboard?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Several. I wish more people would use them. Why?”

  “Can I get one?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Lemme guess. It’s for a friend?”

  “No. It’s for me. She can get her own.”

  “Wardroom pantry. Cabinet under the coffee maker.”

  “Do I need to sign for it or anything?”

  “There’s a log book to thumb. You might be the first one to use it.”

  “That loose?”

  Blanchard shrugged and grinned. “Not exactly a high-demand item. I have to keep scrubbers running on the ship’s systems nonstop.”

  “Lotta activity?”

  “Not so much yet. After we leave Siren Orbital, it’ll be a free-for-all.”

  “Can’t you firewall the tablets?”

  “I can. It’s not like I can make anybody use them.” Blanchard shrugged. “As soon as I protect one, somebody buys a new one and links into the ship. That’s why things will get a little spongy after Siren. At least half the crew will upgrade their tablets.” He glanced up and down the passageway. “Anything else?”

  Natalya shook her head again. “Thanks.”

  “Have a nice evening,” Blanchard said and closed his door.

  Natalya thought about Blanchard’s problem all the way to the wardroom. She found the cabinet and pulled a reader from the rack. As soon as she did, a pop-up tablet offered her a thumb tab. She pressed her thumb to the pad and it beeped once before withdrawing.

  She stood there for a moment, staring into the cabinet.

  Chef Marah stuck her head in from the galley door. “Oh, Ms. Regyri, isn’t it?”

  “Good evening, Chef. I didn’t disturb you, did I?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “No. Just finishing the evening cleanup and heard the beep. It’s not normal to have people in here after hours. Is there something you need?”

  “No, I’m just getting a reader.”

  “Your tablet broken?” she asked.<
br />
  “Just wanted a sandbox to play in.”

  “I believe you’re the first person I’ve ever seen take one of those.”

  “Really?”

  “I have to make sure everything is shipshape in here. I’m always checking to make sure things are where they need to be while we’re underway. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one out of the rack.”

  “I was just marveling that they weren’t all gone,” Natalya said.

  “Who’d want them?”

  “Good question, Ms. Marah.”

  Natalya took the reader back to Zoya. “We may have been looking at this parts issue wrong,” she said.

  Zoya tilted her head. “How so?”

  “I’ve been operating on the assumption that somebody’s just skimming to augment their income.”

  “Reasonable.”

  “Blanchard sent me down to the wardroom pantry for this.” She held up the reader. “There’s a whole rack of them in a recharging frame in there.”

  Zoya frowned for a moment and then her eyes snapped wide open. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Natalya bit her lip and shrugged. “It might if the person doing the pilfering didn’t know about the readers.”

  “That’s possible. We didn’t know about them.”

  “Yeah, but we’re the new kids. There’s probably an encyclopedia full of information about this ship we don’t know.”

  “You think it’s something else?” Zoya asked.

  “What if it’s somebody who specifically wants Barbell parts?”

  “That makes sense. Barbells are the most common bulk hauler,” Zoya said. “What makes you think Barbell parts instead of general spares?”

  “I’m not sure. There’s not that much that’s specific to Barbells. The tools could all be used on any ship. The bus connectors that triggered this whole thing aren’t exactly universal, but they’re cross-compatible with a lot of the larger ships.”

  “Any unique Barbell spares?”

  “Scrubber cartridges. Larger ships and most of the Manchester-built hulls use algae in a nutrient matrix. Barbells use a particular shape of cartridge to filter out airborne contaminants.”

  “We didn’t lose any of those?” Zoya asked.

  “No, but they’re cheap—relatively speaking—and we’d have noticed pretty fast since they’re one of the regularly consumed parts.”

  “What about Burleson spares? We’ve got some heavy drives back there.”

  “True, but any high-end jumper would have very similar drives. They’re almost all plug-and-play parts. Other than the calibration and power circuits, the drives all use the same parts.”

  “So what you’re saying is that these are easily disposed of.”

  “To anybody with a large ship, yeah. I can’t use these parts in the Peregrine, for example. They’re just the wrong size.”

  “But you think that it’s not just random pilferage,” Zoya said.

  “It makes more sense if whoever took this stuff already had a buyer lined up. Less possibility that they’d get caught with the goods.”

  “And you’re jumping to this conclusion because nobody stole the firewalled readers.” Zoya’s eyebrows rose.

  Natalya felt the heat rise on her neck. “That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”

  Zoya shrugged. “Interesting hypothesis, but I think we’d be wise to keep the possibilities open. The readers aren’t exactly a solid data point. And speaking of readers?” She held out her hand.

  Natalya gave her the unit and shrugged. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

  Zoya plugged the chip and frowned at the screen.

  “What is it?” Natalya asked.

  “Bank deposit.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all,” Zoya said.

  “Are you rich yet?”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  “Any orders?”

  “Just the deposit.” Zoya turned the tablet around to show Natalya.

  “What do they think they’re getting for this?”

  Zoya shook her head. “No idea. I hate surprises.”

  “Maybe we’ll run into Hardwall at Siren and you can ask.”

  “You think so?”

  Natalya shook her head. “No. Not really. If he’s really TIC, he’ll keep a low profile in station.”

  “But if he’s Rewers’s gopher? Won’t he have to be out and about?”

  “Probably no more than Rewers herself.”

  “You think he’s not TIC?”

  “No, I think he is TIC. I just wonder where he really falls on the chain of command.”

  Chapter 36

  Siren System: 2363, July 30

  Captain Trask’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “They want what?”

  Blanchard held up a hand, palm out. “Just the messenger, Skipper.”

  “At least they’re waiting until we dock,” Lyons said.

  Pritchard smirked. “Guess my hiding didn’t work out so well.”

  “You going to be all right now?” Trask asked, arching an eyebrow at Pritchard. “I wasn’t sure you weren’t going to have a heart attack at Moe’s.”

  “Here we’ve got a legal cargo,” Pritchard said. “There’s nothing for them to find now.”

  Lyons snorted and pushed his dinner plate back from the edge of the table.

  “Something you want to say, Josh?” Pritchard asked.

  Lyons looked up at the overhead and took a couple of deep breaths. “No, Mr. Pritchard. There’s nothing I want to say.” He glanced at Natalya. “I’m not being a mope.”

  She grinned at him.

  “If we’re done with the drama for the moment, is there anything we need to do before we dock in the morning?” Trask asked, looking around the table.

  Blanchard pursed his lips and shook his head. “I think we’re as clean as we’re likely to be.”

  “I can discharge a couple of fire extinguishers,” Natalya said. “Nothing major, just something they can find and write us up for.”

  Pritchard turned to her, his jaw flapping, but no words came out of his mouth for several heartbeats. “You’ll what?” His voice squeaked on the last word.

  Natalya sighed. “If they don’t find anything, they’ll dig. Everybody has something. If we give them something easy, they’re less likely to go poking about where they might find something serious.”

  Pritchard blanched. “What could they find?”

  “I thought you were good with them coming aboard now,” Trask said. “You’ve done this drill before, Steven. What’s got you so spooked this trip?”

  Pritchard drew himself up in his chair. “I am not spooked, Captain. I’m aghast that Ms. Regyri would consider lowering the operational standards of the ship in such a cavalier way.”

  “Uh huh,” Trask said, casting him a sour look. “What’s your biggest concern, Ms. Regyri?”

  “I don’t want them looking too closely at the Burleson drives.”

  Trask frowned for a moment. “Is there something wrong with them?”

  Natalya shook her head. “Not as such. They’re too big for a stock Barbell. They’re Class T’s where normally we’d have Class O’s.”

  “Ah,” Trask said. “I see your point. If they ask, just tell them it’s your first trip with us and they should ask me. I can probably come up with a cover if we need it, but I’d rather not try to use it.”

  “That’s it?” Pritchard asked.

  “What’s it, Steven?” Trask asked.

  “You’re not going to say something about discharging fire extinguishers?”

  Trask pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “I wasn’t going to, no, but now that you mention it,” he looked at Natalya. “There’s one at the foot of the bridge ladder. It’s a backup in case of fire in the data closet. That would be a good one to hit. Also one in the spine around frame sixty-five.”

  Natalya nodded. “I know the one you mean. Should I pop one in crew berthing as well?”

  “No, but
see if Ms. Marah can expend one of her small ones from the galley and red tag it for replacement when we dock.”

  Natalya grinned. “Nice touch.”

  “Not my first circus,” Trask said with a wink.

  Pritchard’s expression of horror almost made Natalya laugh. Almost. “Captain, I must protest. This is highly irregular.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pritchard. Protest noted. You’ll pardon me if I don’t log it until after we leave Siren?” Trask stared at Pritchard. “Is there anything else you’d like to bring to my attention?”

  Something in the captain’s expression made Pritchard back down. He sighed and deflated like a week-old balloon on the exhale. “No, Captain. Nothing else.”

  “Good,” Trask said. “Then let’s clear out of here so Mr. Bray can clear away the dinner mess, shall we?” He stood and ambled out of the wardroom, leaving Pritchard scowling at his empty plate and Lyons shaking his head.

  “Something funny, Josh?” Blanchard asked.

  Lyons looked across the table and grinned. “All this time and I never realized how much fun I was missing.”

  Blanchard gave a small chuckle. “Blame her,” he said, jerking his thumb at Natalya.

  Lyons glanced at Natalya. “Thank you, Ms. Regyri.”

  There was more behind the simple thank-you than a light-hearted comment. Natalya grinned. “Don’t get all sappy on me now. That’s worse than moping,” she said.

  “All right, people. Let’s move on, shall we?” Blanchard stood and poked his head into the pantry. “You can clear now, Mr. Bray. Thank you.”

  Bray’s voice came from the galley end of the pantry. “Aye, aye, Mr. Blanchard. Have a good night.”

  Blanchard nodded at Natalya and gave a little snort when he looked at Pritchard, still glaring at his plate, his brow furrowed. “I’ve got the mid so I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to nobody in particular and left the wardroom.

  Natalya stood and followed him out, Lyons on her heels.

  “Speaking of mope,” he said. “I never knew Mr. Pritchard had such a flair for the dramatic.”

  Natalya shrugged. “I don’t think he can help it. Something ain’t right with that man’s head.”

  Lyons stopped and looked at Natalya. “What makes you say that?”