Mr. Pall added a macabre thought. “We’d have to hit something pretty big awfully hard to lose that much momentum, Captain. If we did, I suspect our vectors after that would be in the hands of a higher power.”
“Well, now that you two have done such a good job of calming my fears, perhaps we might actually go somewhere else?”
“Did you have any place in mind, Skipper?” Ms. Thomas practically purred.
“What do you think, Mr. Pall?”
“High Tortuga, Skipper. We’re plotted and locked.”
Ms. Thomas consulted her console. “Ship reports ready to jump, Skipper.” I glanced over and saw her board all in green.
“Ready about, Mr. Pall. Hard a-lee.”
He mashed a key and we jumped.
When a ship jumps, usually the view through the forward screen changes. Typically, a bright pinpoint of light appears in what was near blackness before and the background spatter of lights shifts position, sometimes radically. When we jumped into the Deep Dark, there was no central star, just more of the same scatter-shot pin points as when we left. If I hadn’t been watching, it would have been easy to miss.
“Did we go anywhere, Ms. Thomas?”
“We did indeed, Skipper. We are out of range of any beacons and somewhere in the limbo between the lanes.”
“Do you know where we are, Mr. Pall?”
“High Tortuga, Skipper. I’ll have a more precise answer shortly.” His fingers flew and the screen in front of him exploded in data.
I tried to hide the uneasiness in my coffee cup.
Ms. Thomas broke into my pretended reverie. “I’ve got a contact on the long range, Skipper.”
“Ship, Ms. Thomas?”
She was staring at a plot on her screen. “Looks more like a collection of ships, Captain.”
Mr. Pall looked up from his screen, for all the world like some kind of ground squirrel sticking his head out of a hole. “High Tortuga.” He went back down the hole.
Ms. Thomas leaned over to look around the end of her console in Mr. Pall’s direction. She cast me a look and gave her head a little shake, before refocusing her attention on the plot. After a few ticks of fiddling, she grunted. “Hmmph. I really hate to say this, Captain, but it looks like someplace that might be called High Tortuga.”
I got out of the chair and went to look over her shoulder. It looked like a collection of ships, cans, and assorted other metal arranged in a haphazard pattern. As we watched, one small blip split out from the mass and began accelerating away.
“Any idea what that is, Ms. Thomas?”
“Yes, Captain. I believe that’s Odin’s Outpost. It’s grown a bit since I saw it last.”
I leaned in to look at the display. At our range there wasn’t a lot of resolution but it was enough to see what looked a lot like a freight marshaling yard when viewed from a hundred-thousand kilometers out. “What pray tell is an Odin’s Outpost, Ms. Thomas?”
“It’s kind of a way station, Skipper. It’s not really much of anything. Officially, it’s not there. It’s been so long since I jumped out here, I’d practically forgotten it. We skimmed by it on some of the doubles we did back on the Hector. We got close enough to give it a good scan on short range, but I’ve never been close enough to get a direct look.”
“Looks like a collection of cans and some small ships, Ms. Thomas.”
“I think there’s a ship at the heart of it, Captain. The story on the Hector was that this guy, Odin, jumped in and his burleson drives went out on him. He couldn’t jump back. He flew around out here for awhile and the next ship through rendered assistance, so he was able to get out eventually. The story goes that when it was over, he took it into his head to come back out and set up this way station. Started as a shipload of food, fuel, and spare parts.” She nodded at the screen. “It’s more now.”
“He just sits out here in the Deep Dark, Ms. Thomas?”
She shrugged. “It appears so, Skipper, but he’s really near the crossroads between the Breakall-to-Dree run and the course from Welliver-to-Jett. Those four systems are almost on the same plane so if you’ve jumped clean, you’ll go through this relatively small volume of space no matter which direction or which pair you’re jumping to.” She eyed me with a frown. “The Tinker never pulled a double jump through here?”
“No, Ms. Thomas. We almost always ended where we began. Diurnia to Jett and back. Diurnia to Welliver and back. Once in a great while we ran a triangle route, but that was rare.”
“This is the first one we’ve pulled on the Agamemnon since I’ve been aboard,” she said.
“Having the only bar in a billion klicks must be handy for Odin,” I said.
She snickered. “Yes, sar. That it is. He’s been out here something like thirty stanyers. Nobody’s quite sure how he’s making a go of it, but apparently enough ships come through that need spare parts or forgot the toothpaste to make it worth his while.”
“Blackmarket, Ms. Thomas?”
“I don’t know, Captain. With plenty of time, the right incentives, and a twisted mind, anything is possible.”
Mr. Pall’s voice came over the top of the console. “Location fix verified. I know where we are, Captain.”
I straightened from the screen and looked over to where he was still pattering on the keys. “Do you have a course correction, Mr. Pall?”
“I do, indeed, Skipper. Programming thrusters now.” He slammed a few more keys. “Estimated total elapsed burn time–” He leaned in to look at his screen. “Twenty-two stans, Captain.”
“Did you say twenty-two stans, Mr. Pall?”
His fingers rested unmoving on the keys. He turned to look at me. “Yes, Skipper. Twenty-two stans.” He looked apologetic.
“Comment, Ms. Thomas?”
She shrugged. “A little on the long side, but not out of bounds from what I remember from the Hector. Seems to me, was pretty common for us to jump in one day and out the next.”
I turned back to where Mr. Pall waited, his eyes on me “Initiate burn sequences, Mr. Pall.”
Without turning his head, one finger twitched and a key clicked. “Initiate burn sequences, aye, Skipper.”
“Does this change our ETA in Jett significantly, Mr. Pall?”
“I’ll have to re-run the numbers, Captain, but I was planning on twelve, not twenty-two. A lot will depend on where we jump to in Jett and the condition of the winds.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pall. Ms. Thomas, if you’d secure from navigation stations and resume normal watch rotation?”
“Securing navigation stations and resuming normal watch, aye, aye, Captain.”
I glanced at the chronometer just as it clicked over to 1103. I had less than a stan before I took over the watch again myself. When Ms. Thomas had finished the announcement, I went to the cabin intending to work on the reports, but spent half a stan just gazing out into the Deep Dark ahead, and wondering if I’d made a horrible mistake.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Deep Dark:
2372-March-21
For me, the twenty-odd stans of programmed burn passed in nail-biting uncertainty. I tried not to look nervous in front of the crew. Lucky for me, being on watch meant the only one exposed to me for any serious amounts of time was Mr. Hill. While we were maneuvering under programmed thrust on a ballistic trajectory, there wasn’t really much for helm to do but the regs said he needed to be on the bridge, so he kept me company and worked on his cargo exam.
We did keep an extra screen open for long range scan. It wasn’t likely that we’d meet another ship head on, or even be t-boned by a ship coming across our course on a doublejump to the other pair of ports, but it didn’t hurt to watch. It’s rare to see even one other ship on long range once you’re out of port more than a week or so. We saw two in the short time it took to slide past Odin’s Outpost, not including the smaller craft that seemed to be coming and going from the Outpost itself.
“What do you suppose they’re doing, Mr. Hill?”
“Mr. Pall thinks they’re pirates, Skipper.”
“What do you think, Mr. Hill?”
“They look like fast packets, Skipper. I’d bet on casino junkets. ”
“Why casinos, Mr. Hill? Gambling’s legal in all of the systems around here.”
“Yes, Skipper but not in Grail or Fischer. Those are both in range of a fast packet.”
“Yes, but why jump way out here?”
He shrugged. “Exotic destination for people with disposable income. I bet there’s a lot of people who are in it for the adventure. They run these junkets on the quiet, even out of Diurnia. And I’d bet he has a pleasure dome in there, too, fully stocked with hot and cold running pleasures. All untaxed and unregulated by the Confederated Planets Joint Committee on Everything.”
“And plenty of room to dispose of the bodies, eh, Mr. Hill?”
“Can’t be too many or the authorities would begin to notice, but who’s to say, Skipper.”
“The ultimate free port, eh, Mr. Hill?”
“So it would seem, Captain, but free is a matter of opinion.”
“Interesting observation, Mr. Hill.”
He shrugged. “Some see fences as keeping dangers out. Others see the same fences keeping them in.”
“And you, Mr. Hill?”
He grinned up at me. “Yo ho ho, Skipper.”
I chuckled. “Indeed, Mr. Hill.” I straightened from the screens and looked out at the ice cold sheets of darkness all around. Odin’s Outpost was too far away to pick up with the naked eye, but there were plenty of glittery lights to look at. “How’s Mr. Ricks doing as morale officer, Mr. Hill?”
“Fine I guess, sar. He hasn’t had a lot of opportunity to do much.”
“How’s morale holding up? We had a short stay and liberty was cut short on both ends.”
He looked up at me under an upraised brow. “Not as bad as it might have been if we didn’t have so many credits stapled to the aft bulkhead, sar. And the shares we got in Welliver were the biggest I think we’ve ever had.”
I turned to look aft at the rounded tops of the cans glittering dully in the reflection of our running lights. “The shares on these should be two or three times that, Mr. Hill.”
He got a kind of sideways smile on his face. “Trust me, Skipper. Every single one of us is aware of that. You primed the pump with that first one. The biggest problem you’re gonna have after this one is how to top it.”
We rode along in companionable silence for a time. Watching the dark. Letting the chrono click over. The programmed burns of the thrusters flashed periodically as the repeated, small kicks curved our course the few points we needed to open a hole in the direction we needed to go.
“So, how did it really go with the co-op, Mr. Hill?”
He laughed. “If I’m gonna be your spy, Skipper, I wanna raise.”
“You’re right, Mr. Hill. It’s unfair of me to put you in that position. We have the coincidence of propinquity and I used that unfairly. I withdraw the question, Mr. Hill, with respect. Thank you for calling me on it.”
He was right. It was unfair of me to lean on the power relationship and the forced contact that we shared as a watch section. The chrono clicked over a few more times.
“You know, Skipper, that co-op thing was a good idea.”
“The settlement to the Agamemnon account looked reasonable. Did you all do as well personally?”
“I can’t speak for the others, Captain, but I did pretty well. I think we need to look at our cargo mix. We got a lot of things that aren’t really suited to the flea. We’ll need to cut our losses on those and turn them over for goods that work better.”
“Understandable, Mr. Hill. Different markets move different goods.”
Eventually the chronometer ticked around enough to chew through the twenty-two stan course adjustment. I called for navigation stations at 0830 and the crew responded with a will.
When we were all settled in our stations, I turned to Mr. Pall. “Double check on location and velocity, if you please, Mr. Pall.”
“Double checking now, Captain.”
Ms. Thomas was scanning the immediate locale to make sure we were clear. We’d crossed the main east-west lane sometime in the night. That fell off astern, along with Odin’s Outpost.
“Location verified, Captain. Vector adjustment still needs two more bursts to finish the cycle.”
“Time to completion, Mr. Pall?”
“About seventeen ticks, Skipper. Should be on track to jump at 0852.”
“Set it up, Mr. Pall. I’m getting a hankerin’ to see someplace else.”
Ms. Thomas added her part to what was becoming our little ritual. “Did you have any place in mind, Captain?”
“I’m thinking I’d like to drop these cans in Jett, Ms. Thomas.”
“Mr. Pall? Did you hear the captain?”
“I did, Ms. Thomas. I think I can help with that.” He stopped tapping. “Jump locked and ready, Ms. Thomas.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pall. Please let me know when the thruster sequence has completed.”
“Aye, aye, sar.”
“Captain, the chief reports we are ready to jump on your signal. Burleson drives are online and ready.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas. There are no pirates crawling up over the cans at the moment, are there?”
She actually turned to look and I had to suppress a chuckle. “Not that I can see from this vantage point, Captain.”
“We seem to be clear of pirates, Mr. Pall.”
“Thank you, Captain, and I appreciate you checking. You can’t be too careful.”
We canned the jocularity as the chrono clicked closer. I could hear the vibration of the thruster motor in the frame of the ship–not so much as a sound but a feeling. There wasn’t really anything to hear in the vacuum of space, but the mechanisms were mounted solidly to the ship’s skeleton and the movement of the plasma through the nozzle produced a vibration that I could hear. Suddenly, it was gone.
“Programmed thruster sequence completed, Ms. Thomas.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pall. I see the board is green for jump, Captain. Ship is ready.”
“Ready about, Mr. Pall. Hard a-lee.”
He mashed the key and the ship jumped.
I was gratified to see the view in the forward armor glass change to include a very bright point of light almost dead center ahead.
Ms. Thomas called it as soon as the screens registered. “Welcome to Jett, Captain.”
Mr. Pall was silent but he was hammering on his keys. I didn’t like the look on his face, but I didn’t joggle his elbow.
Ms. Thomas finished her scan. “No proximity alarms, Captain. Nothing unusual on long range.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas.”
Mr. Pall stopped hammering. “Location locked and verified, Captain.” He looked up at me with a stricken expression. “I’m sorry, Skipper. We jumped long by eight per cent.”
Ms. Thomas stepped out from behind her console so she could see Mr. Pall directly. “What’s that do to transit time, Mr. Pall?”
“Our current ETA is April 12th, Ms. Thomas.”
“How much over will we be, Mr. Pall?” I asked.
“Thirty-three standard hours, Skipper.”
I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes to think. A day and a half on a twenty-one day run.
“Ms. Thomas? My compliments to the chief and would she come to the bridge as soon as she has the sails up and the keel out?”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” She tapped a few keys and waited. “Five ticks, Skipper. She’s on final spin up now.”
The first sails came up almost instantly and the keel extended shortly after. “Helm, report steerageway.”
Mr. Schubert answered almost immediately. “Ship responding to helm, Captain.”
I turned to Ms. Thomas. “Anything else we need to do, Ms. Thomas?”
“Nothing I can think of, Skipper.”
“Secure from navigation stations, Ms
. Thomas. Resume normal watch.”
“Secure from navigation stations and resume normal watch, aye, aye, Captain.”
The word went out and within a tick Mr. Hill came bounding up the ladder. We traded watches off once more. Mr. Hill and I had the watch until noon, when first section would take over.
I glanced at the chrono–0943. “You’ve got two stans if you’d like to grab a quick nap, Ms. Thomas.”
“I’d rather hear what the chief has to say, Skipper.”
“I’d rather you did, too, Gwen. Thanks.”
As if on cue, Chief Gerheart came scampering up the stairs. “You rang, Skipper?” It was the little girl, but there was sapphire just under the surface.
“We jumped long, chief. Deceleration and alignment needs a day and a half more than we have. We need to cut down the run time to Jett.”
The news registered with a brief flickering in the eyes, but her mask stayed on. “Sure thing, Captain.”
“Mr. Pall, can you put our projected course on the drop down so we can all see it please?”
A repeater screen hanging from the overhead immediately lit up with a schematic of the system and a projected plot.
All eyes went to it.
“Gimme the two credit tour, Mr. Pall. What are we looking at?”
“Least distance path from here to there, Skipper.” He swung in his seat to look up with the rest of us.
It wasn’t a smooth curve, but instead had a few bumps and corrections in it. “Run the plot timeline for us, Mr. Pall.”
A small blip appeared on the screen as as it moved along the projected line, the reasons for some of the bumps became obvious as planets or sometimes just moons slipped into the pathway.
The time stamp at the top became a counter as we watched the days melt away ending with the ship and orbital in the same place at the same time on the afternoon of April 12th.
“We need that date to be April 10th, people.” I looked around. “How do we do it?”
The chief walked up to peer into the screen and even Ms. Thomas stared at it.
Captain's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) Page 27
