Captain's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper)

by Nathan Lowell

  “No, Mr. Hill.”

  “If I pass this exam, I can get another berth, Captain.”

  “You could, but then I wouldn’t have to put in the hot tub if you forfeit, Mr. Hill, and I have a feeling that you’re an honorable man. I could be wrong, but you don’t strike me as the type to welch on a bet.”

  “What are the conditions of this bet, Captain?”

  “Good question. We can’t have this be some kind of hypothetical contest, Mr. Hill, but a real test of your picking ability.” I thought about it for maybe a tick. “Here’s what I propose. I will give you each a can to fill. On each trip, you will fill that can. We’ll keep track of the profit and loss on each can. At the end of—say—ten trips, the winner will be the one with the highest gross profit.”

  “Ten trips! Captain, that’s almost twenty months. I’m not willing to wait that long for my hot tub! Three trips!”

  “You raise a valid issue, Mr. Hill, but luck is too much a factor in only three trips. Five trips, and you have to have your cargo picked no later than the end of our first day in port.”

  “What about the third can, Captain? We’re rated to carry three cans.”

  “That one’s mine.”

  He looked at me skeptically. “Yours, Captain?”

  “Mine, Mr. Hill. I’m not part of the contest, but it’s not fair to count gross profit and then let Mr. Wyatt have two containers. For the next five trips, I’ll pick one can of cargo, you pick one, and Mr. Wyatt will pick the third. I’ll pick first and I’ll pick mine at least forty-eight hours before docking. You two will have to pick cans going to the same place as mine.”

  “And we’ll start this when, sar?”

  “Immediately. I want to get underway tomorrow afternoon and I intend we should have a cargo. I’ll pick one as soon as Mr. Wyatt returns and then you two will have to pick by the end of the watch. Not ideal but we’re all under the same time constraints so it’s equally burdensome. Agreed?”

  “That sounds fair, Captain.”

  “Very well, Mr. Hill. Carry on. I’ll check with Chief Gerheart on the plumbing situation to see if we have a valid bet.”

  I headed back into the ship and took a left turn at the ladder, dropping down one deck to Engineering. When I explained what I wanted to Ms. Gerheart she laughed and clapped her hands in excitement.

  “Will it go there, Ms. Gerheart? I’m concerned for plumbing and electrical runs.”

  “Oh, no, Captain. It’ll go just fine.”

  “You sound very certain of that.”

  “I am. That space is right behind the crew’s head. There’s no reason I can think of not to put one in there.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Gerheart. One other thing. Can we put a repeater console in the mess deck?”

  “Like a bridge console, Captain?’

  “Exactly, Ms. Gerheart.”

  Her eyes twinkled in delight. “I have just the thing in spares, sar. It should be no trouble.”

  “Please replace anything you use up, Chief. I don’t want to get underway without a spare.”

  That chore completed, I needed to contact the chandlery myself, and see about having a little remodeling done, but before I got them on the line I went back to the brow.

  “Well, Mr. Hill, Chief Gerheart assures me we have sufficient infrastructure for the hot tub. And I think we have a bet.”

  I spit in my hand and held it out. He did the same and we shook on it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Diurnia Orbital:

  2372-January-10

  At 0930, Mr. Wyatt returned from his stores procurement. “They’ll be delivering the whole order this afternoon, Captain.”

  “Excellent, Mr. Wyatt! I need to contact the ship fitters for a small renovation project, but I need to tell you about a little wager I have made with Mr. Hill. You’re going to pick one can of cargo. He’s going to pick one can of cargo. If, after five trips, his cans earn more than your cans, I’ll install a hot tub.”

  “What if my cans earn more, Captain?”

  “Then he becomes your apprentice. You teach him all you know and he helps you with the stores.”

  “You wagered this? What do you get out of it, Captain?”

  “A more profitable ship.”

  “Wait! What do you mean I pick a can of cargo?”

  “Sit, Avery. We need to talk.” I explained cargo dispatch and how all they were doing was picking the first cargo on the list. “You can do a lot better than that, Avery.”

  He just sat there, his face blank and jaw slack. “That’s impossible.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m afraid it’s not. I talked to the clerk there yesterday afternoon. This is the first chance I’ve had to talk to you.”

  Avery screwed up his face and leaned across the table so he could talk softly. “But, Captain, I don’t know the first thing about picking cargos.” Anxiety had his whole body knotted. “You just bet that I could out pick Mr. Hill.”

  I nodded with a happy smile. “Avery, he thinks he can out pick you because of the cargoes we’ve been carrying since you came aboard.”

  “But I haven’t picked any of those cargoes!”

  I smiled at him. “That, Mr. Wyatt, is exactly my point. Nobody knows if you can pick cargo or not because you’ve never done it.”

  “But you bet a hot tub, Captain!”

  “And I’ll gladly buy a hot tub if you two can pick some decent cans. The incremental value to the ship and the crew shares will be very much worth it. I also bet on getting you an apprentice and some help with stores. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think you could do it.”

  His level of anxiety didn’t appear to ease. “But, Captain, I have no idea if I can do it or not.”

  “I do.”

  “How can you be so sure, Captain?”

  I pulled out my tablet and showed him the menus. “This proves it. You took a huge amount of data, distilled it down to a few likely choices, applied some judgment, and built a menu for sixty days using just the stores we have aboard. I’m going to want a bit of change to it based on the incremental stores you bought this morning, but if you can do this, you can pick cargo.”

  He started to calm down. “Well, that wasn’t very hard. I knew all the variables.”

  “True. Cargo picking is a little more complicated. You don’t know all the variables, but you don’t need to. The more data you can use, the better you’ll be, but even having a little control will let you do better than cargo dispatch. That was purely random assignment.”

  He uncoiled a little more. “What do I do?”

  “You already know most of it. Cargo dispatch gave you a manifest number. You logged in and booked that manifest by the number. It was almost always a three can unit, because that’s what they searched for. You’ll be searching for a one can unit. Once you have the number, you’ll log it just like before. Everything else works exactly the way you know how to do. The only difference is that instead of waiting for Cargo Dispatch to give you the numbers, you’ll get them from your own research.”

  “And Mr. Hill.”

  “Yes, Mr. Hill will give you his number, and you’ll book it, just as if it were cargo dispatch giving it to you.”

  “Who will pick the third can, Captain?”

  “I will. In fact, I’ll pick first. You two will have to pick cans going to the same place. Furthermore, you have to pick your cans within twenty-four stans of docking. I’ll lock mine at least two days before docking so you’ll have three days to pick your cans.”

  His eyes lost focus for a few heartbeats while he mulled it over. “I really can’t lose, can I, Captain?” he said at last.

  “No, Mr. Wyatt, you can’t lose because you have no dog in this fight. I’m the one who’s betting with Mr. Hill. You’re just the innocent bystander. And I can’t lose either, because no matter who makes more money, the ship wins. I do have one immediate problem. I need to pick a can going somewhere because you need to pick your can before the end of this
watch.”

  “What? How am I supposed to do that?”

  I pulled up my tablet and had it display the current cargoes on the station net. I filtered for one-can loads for immediate shipment. I scanned down the list looking for a value higher than the average. There were several and one carried a small priority. I grabbed that one and forwarded the manifest number to Mr. Wyatt’s tablet, which I was pleased to hear bip from across the table.

  “If you’d book that number to the ship, Mr. Wyatt, we’ve got the first can and it’s going to Welliver.”

  I looked up to see Mr. Wyatt staring at me. “Is that all we have to do?”

  “If you’d book that can, Mr. Wyatt? It won’t be available long and I don’t want to lose it. I’ll explain after we have the contract.”

  “Of course, Captain.” He stood and hurried off.

  I followed him out of the galley but headed for the brow. “The game is on, Mr. Hill. Welliver. And that priority can of machine parts is mine.”

  He snapped to his screen and pulled up the open cargo list. I was close enough to see that it was almost the same display that I’d just had on my tablet, with a few more columns of information. He adjusted his display with a couple of keystrokes. “This one, Captain?”

  I looked over his shoulder. “Yes, that’s the one.” While we watched, the status changed to show it under contract to us.

  “Nice snag, sar.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hill. We need two more cans as good or better than that by end of the watch. I’ll get Mr. Pall on the flight plan for departure on or about noon on the eleventh.”

  Mr. Hill’s screen updated and new cargoes showed up. “How do I tell Mr. Wyatt, sar?”

  “Just send it to his tablet, and dupe to me. We’ll need to figure out a more elegant solution, but I have some ideas.”

  A new priority shipment appeared on the list, and it looked like a good one to me. Mr. Hill barked a short laugh and pounced on his keyboard, but before he could capture it, the status changed to show it already under contract to the Agamemnon.

  “Well, Mr. Hill. Looks like we already have that one.” I mentally applauded Mr. Wyatt.

  “Hmm. This could be trickier than I thought, Captain. The delay in notification and booking could jimmy the deals.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Mr. Hill. Perhaps we three can put our heads together on how best to deal with this. Things should go more smoothly now we’ve got the cycle underway, but still it seems cumbersome, even to me.” I left Mr. Hill watching his screen. I wasn’t sure that the delay would be all that significant once the process got started, but I made a note to look into how to make it fairer to Mr. Hill, short of giving him the booking codes.

  I met Mr. Wyatt coming down the ladder with a smile on his face. “I booked a can, Captain!”

  “Excellent catch, too, Mr. Wyatt. When Mr. Hill sends you a manifest number, please be sure to book it as soon as possible. Time, as you may have guessed, will be critical on the better cans.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. I understand.”

  I wasn’t too worried about hanky-panky because the final value of the can wouldn’t be determined until we actually delivered it, the numbers on this end were speculative and subject to variation in market conditions on the other end. Still, the two cans we had booked showed promise for an excellent return.

  “Next for you, Mr. Wyatt, lunch.” I pulled out my tablet opened the menu list. “Says here lunch will be braised chicken, rice, and sautéed beans, with a minestrone soup first course and apple pie for dessert.”

  Mr. Wyatt blanched. “You said I didn’t need to know how to cook the meal, Captain. Only that we have the stores on hand to make it.”

  “Indeed I did, Mr. Wyatt. I don’t want you to cook it. I want you to round up the stores we need to make it. Where is this stuff?”

  We spent a fast five ticks having Mr. Wyatt pull the necessary supplies out of stores. While we were there, I had him identify and retrieve what we’d need to make dinner. He understood the idea of pulling full cases to the ready lockers well enough so I left him staging the next few days’ worth of meals.

  As I headed up to the cabin, he called after me. “Can I adjust my menu a bit, Captain? I’d like to load it so that these materials get used up more rapidly than things still in deep freeze.”

  “You may, indeed, Mr. Wyatt. While you’re at it, factor in the stores you bought this morning. The root crops in particular will have a large effect on the menus.”

  In the cabin I settled down for a little chat with the fine people in the ship fitting department of the chandlery and they promised to send up the requisite materials and manpower first thing in the morning.

  I grinned as I disconnected and looked around the empty cabin. It was 1000 so I took half a stan to hang up a couple of ship suits and put my personal items in the head. I’d never been one to put up a lot of stuff on the bulkheads but my eyes went to a spot over the desk and I made a note to get my Master’s License framed.

  I pondered the irony of a land rat teaching spacers how to sail, but shook it off. Sometimes you needed to be an outsider to really appreciate how things worked. Otherwise you took it for granted. My mother used to say something about having fish describe water. That seemed to make more sense to me as I headed to the galley to begin cooking lunch.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Diurnia Orbital:

  2372-January-10

  Lunch was attended by the officers, but neither of the off duty ratings joined us. The meal reinforced the awkwardness of two tables and I was even more pleased with the plans I’d made. We discussed the placement of the repeater while we dined and agreed on a location. Chief Gerheart surprised me by suggesting an oversized screen and remote combination that would allow a much greater flexibility in use.

  “And do you have these just laying around in spares, Chief?”

  She giggled delightfully, and talked quietly at her plate. “Oh, you know, boys aren’t the only ones who like toys. I picked these up a while back, Captain. I thought they might be useful one day.”

  “Captain Delman didn’t want to use it?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t spend much time on the mess deck, so didn’t see the need I guess, Captain.”

  After lunch, Mr. Wyatt helped me clear and clean while Mr. Pall went ashore and Ms. Thomas retired to her stateroom for a nap. She’d be taking the overnight at 1800 and needed the rest. Chief Gerheart entertained us by bringing in a huge monitor on a dolly and proceeded to quickly and efficiently mount it on the bulkhead where it could be seen from anywhere in the galley.

  Mr. Wyatt chuckled. “My goodness, Greta, is it big enough? I think I’ve seen smaller screens at the movie theater.”

  She giggled again. “It’s not that large, Avery. It just looks big in this space.” She stepped back and admired her work. “It is about three times larger than a standard console, but that’s good if you’re trying to read it while you’re cooking.”

  She bundled up all the packing materials and disposed of them before coming back with a detached console keyboard. It was powered by rechargeable batteries and communicated with the screen wirelessly. Not exactly cutting edge technology but not the usual configuration of shipboard consoles, more like a home entertainment unit. It took a little jiggering but we found a place to lock the docking station so that the keyboard could be docked for charging when not in use.

  This unit wouldn’t be all that useful while docked, but remembering my voyage on the Bad Penny, I could certainly see where having this kind of data available on the mess deck would make being underway less problematic while short-handed.

  Chief Gerheart seemed very pleased with her work, and I had to admit she’d done a terrific job of it.

  “We do still have a spare console in stores, don’t we, Chief?”

  “Yes, we do, Captain. If something happens, I’ve got one whole bridge console as spare, and a few extra monitors and keyboards as well. We’re well stocked.”
/>   “Good to know. Thank you, Chief.”

  She had almost finished when the extra stores arrived. I left Mr. Wyatt to deal with the shipment and went up to the bridge to file the flight plans. I intended to get underway for Welliver the next day at 1500. All we needed was our third can, and the final touches that the ship fitters would be doing in the morning.

  I remember thinking that things were coming together nicely about the time I got the call from Orbital Security.

  “You the new skipper on the Agamemnon?” The officer was pleasant enough.

  “Yes, Ishmael Wang, at your service, officer. Is there a problem?”

  “Mr. Ricks and Mr. Schubert have been remanded here for drunk and disorderly on the oh-two deck, Captain.” He had a particularly bored air.

  “Not unusual, I take it?”

  “Not terribly, Captain. You can bail ’em any time. There’s fines, of course, and they’re pretty hefty, or you can take it to court and see if you can reduce ’em.”

  “But we’d need to be here for that.”

  “Yes, Captain. ‘Fraid so.”

  “Any purpose in fighting it, Officer?”

  “Not really, Captain. The evidence is pretty convincing. Nobody’s pressing charges on assault and battery, or indecent exposure. Just the d-and-d.”

  “This sounds like it’s pretty routine.”

  “All too routine, Captain.”

  “Thank you, officer. I’ll have my cargo chief come relieve you of the carcasses within the hour. I’ll pay the fine.”

  “Okay, Captain, shall we bill the ship?”

  “No, this is personal. I’ll pay it.”

  “Are you sure, Captain.” The officer sounded surprised. “Captain Delman always had me bill the ship.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He sent me the ticket and I returned the payment authorization. The total made me wince a little.

  “Thank you, Captain. And good luck with them.”

  “Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”