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

by Nathan Lowell

  “You really know how to show a girl a good time, Captain.”

  “I try, Ms. Arellone.”

  It slipped under her guard and she gave a short, and genuine, laugh.

  “Are you in or out, Ms. Arellone?”

  “Like I have a choice?”

  “As I understand it, in a few more days, you’ll be out from under this little rainbow and you can do what you want. Find another berth, maybe.”

  Her face screwed up in a bitter grimace. “Yeah. That’ll happen, I’m sure.”

  I gave a half shrug. “I’m offering you a berth. Quarter share for now until you can take the exam again. After that, it’s up to you.”

  “Up to Maloney, you mean?”

  I thought about that for a few heartbeats. “Yes. He has some input into it. If you pass the exam, I’ll put you back up as soon as DST authorizes it. I’m willing to go to bat for you. Got any other offers?”

  She looked at me then, square in the face. “And what do I have to do to earn this spectacular largesse. Captain?”

  “Stand your watch. Do your job. Pull your weight.”

  She arched one eyebrow. “That’s it? No ‘ancillary duties as required’? No, ‘be a good girl and do what you’re told’?”

  I paused. “Well, there may be an ancillary duty or two, Ms. Arellone.”

  She barked a harsh, “Ha!”

  “Mr. Ricks is Morale Officer. If he leaves, that will be open and I think that generally falls to the junior member of the crew. In the event that you’re it, that would be your ancillary duty.”

  She all but guffawed. “Morale Officer? Me?”

  “Who better to suggest ways to improve morale than the one person with the most to gain?”

  I let her digest that for a full tick. Her expression went from contempt and surprise to serious contemplation.

  “You’re serious.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Ms. Arellone. I’m serious.”

  I let her stew for a half dozen heartbeats.

  “So? You interested?”

  She squinted her eyes and blew a long breath out of her nose before replying. “Yes, Captain. I’m interested. I think you’re blowing smoke but I’m interested.”

  I nodded and reached across the table to offer my hand. The guard at the door flinched and I looked at him. “Problem?”

  He eyed me and then her and shook his head.

  She reached across and took my hand, shaking it briefly.

  “Thank you, Ms. Arellone. I look forward to sailing with you.”

  She retreated behind her shields. “I bet you do.”

  I nodded at the guard and he opened the door and escorted the prisoner away.

  She didn’t look back.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Diurnia Orbital:

  2372-September-13

  The crew said good-bye to Mr. Ricks at breakfast. The real send-off had apparently happened the night before, judging from the blood shot eyes and general level of energy among the three ratings. He was due to report at 0800 and we waved him out the lock at 0715 with plenty of time to spare.

  I’d also made arrangements with the orbital’s security staff to have Ms. Arellone released on my recognizance at 0730. They knew we were on a tight schedule and they were happy to see her leave. I only had to present myself, a copy of her employment contract, and sign a bond that I’d be responsible for her. They had her ready and waiting for me and the whole transaction was done in less than two ticks.

  She wore rumpled jeans and a jersey top and carried a bundle of personal goods under her arm. We got onto the lift and I glanced over at her. “Do you have anything you need to do before we get underway? Close up an apartment? Pick up goods from storage? Anything like that, Ms. Arellone?”

  She shrugged and didn’t look at me. “Quarter share can’t take much, Captain. I have a duffel in a locker on oh-one. The apartment was closed for me when I got sent down.”

  I punched the button for oh-one and we stopped to pick up her bag. She shouldered it easily and we headed out.

  “You need any personal gear? Toothpaste? Anything? We’re getting underway this afternoon. When we get back to the ship, you’re pretty much stuck,” I said.

  She glared at me. “Am I under house arrest or something, Captain?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing of the kind, Ms. Arellone. I’m just trying to make the transition as easy as possible. I’m serious about getting under way, and you won’t have a chance to get anything once we get to the ship.”

  She hefted the bag on her shoulder. “I can’t afford any more mass, Captain.”

  I sighed and led her into the chandlery. I bought an empty duffel bag. “You have a bathing suit in that bag?”

  She looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “You getting pervy already, Captain?”

  “We have a hot tub. You need a suit. Do you have one?”

  “Hot tub? On the Agamemnon?”

  “Yes, Ms. Arellone. Please focus. I’m supposed to be on watch. We need to move. Do you have a bathing suit in that bag?”

  “No.”

  “Buy one.” I pointed at the hygiene counter. “And anything else you’ll need for an eight week voyage. Just do it fast, Ms. Arellone.”

  She was fast. I’ll give her that. In four ticks flat she had what she needed on the counter and the clerk checking her out gave her the tab to thumb. She hesitated.

  “Problems, Ms. Arellone?”

  She looked down and turned a little toward me. “I–I can’t afford this, Captain.”

  I looked at the bill. It was two digits. I thumbed it, pushed all the gear into the second duffel, zipped it and pointed to the door. “Go. We’re late.”

  We hit the lock by 0800 and I left her with Mr. Hill to get checked in while I headed for the mess deck to take my watch back from Ms. Thomas. I found her and Mr. Wyatt sitting at the table with the cribbage board set up between them.

  They looked up with smiles when I came around the corner. “Back so soon, Skipper?”

  “Yes, Ms. Thomas. Thanks for covering the watch.”

  She shrugged. “No problem, Captain. Avery’s trying to teach me how to play cribbage.”

  I grinned. “A lovely game. How’s it going?”

  Mr. Wyatt shook his head. “The problem is that I’m not sure I know how, Captain. We’re just kinda fumbling around here.”

  “We’ll have time to pick it up underway. Mr. Hill is quite a good player at this point.”

  Ms. Thomas nodded. “Well, how’s our new crew?”

  I shrugged. “She’ll be okay, I think. Need to get her calmed down a little.”

  “Calmed down, Captain?” Mr. Wyatt raised an eyebrow.

  “She’s a bit tense, but I think she’ll be okay once we get underway.”

  “Still going to put her on my watch, Skipper?”

  I thought about it. “Yes, I think you two will hit it off.”

  “Captain!” Mr. Hill’s voice echoed onto the mess deck. There was a note of urgency in it.

  “Maybe you’d like to come meet her, Ms. Thomas?”

  She arched an eyebrow but started to get up from the table while I headed for the lock.

  I found a furious Ms. Arellone standing on the scales with her two duffels and Mr. Hill looking flummoxed. “Yes, Mr. Hill? Is there a problem?”

  “She’s over mass, Skipper.” He paused for a heartbeat. “She’s also armed. I saw her slip a knife into her boot.”

  Ms. Thomas and Mr. Wyatt came up behind me as I turned to Ms. Arellone. “That didn’t take long, Ms. Arellone. I assume it was in your duffelbag?”

  She had the grace to look abashed. “Yes, Captain.”

  “How much over is she, Mr. Hill?”

  “Double, Captain. Not quite. Eighteen kilos.”

  “So she’d be good if she were full share, Mr. Hill?”

  “Yes, sar.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hill.” I turned to Ms. Thomas. “Ms. Thomas, I’d like you to meet your new watch s
tander. Spacer Apprentice Stacie Arellone. Ms. Arellone? This is our first mate, Ms. Gwen Thomas. You’ll be joining first section as soon as we get you aboard.”

  Ms. Thomas’s lips twisted up at the corner in a bit of a smile. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Arellone.”

  Ms. Arellone appeared a bit off balance but nodded back. “Ms. Thomas.”

  “Ms. Thomas, why don’t you take Ms. Arellone over there out of the way of the lock and help her sort out the essentials into one of the duffelbags and the extras into the other?” I looked at Mr. Wyatt and Mr. Hill. “Gentlemen? Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and let the ladies have a little privacy while they adjust the luggage?”

  Mr. Hill started to say something.

  “I think Ms. Thomas can keep an eye on the lock for a few ticks, Mr. Hill.”

  “But she’s armed, Captain.”

  “Who? Ms. Thomas? Surely not.”

  “No, sar, Arellone.” He seemed a bit exasperated.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you. Ms. Arellone–” and I placed special emphasis on the word miz “– is most assuredly armed and we are all alerted to that fact. I’m more than confident that Ms. Thomas is in no danger.”

  I looked at Ms. Thomas who smiled happily and shrugged. “No worries on my part, Captain.”

  I turned back to Mr. Hill. “See, Mr. Hill? No worries. Now, if you please?” I held a hand out pointing down the passage. “I need a cuppa and these ladies need a little room to work without being second guessed at each turn. Shall we?”

  Mr. Wyatt led the way and I could hear Mr. Hill following me, but I didn’t look back.

  We took turns at the coffee pots and then arrayed ourselves around the mess deck. Mr. Wyatt resumed his seat at the table, while Mr. Hill and I leaned against the counters.

  Mr. Wyatt looked amused. “What cat have you dragged home now, Skipper?”

  I shrugged and sipped. “She was next on the wait list, Mr. Wyatt.”

  “She was in detention, Captain.”

  I wrinkled my nose dismissively. “A detail. Mr. Hill would have been in detention more than once if he hadn’t had a ship to escape to.” I arched an eyebrow in his direction. “True, Mr. Hill?”

  He glanced at me before lowering his eyes to the mug in his hands. After a heartbeat he nodded. “Probably so, Skipper.”

  “So, now, she’s one of us.” I shrugged. “We get underway in a few stans and we’ll see what happens when we get to Breakall. Six weeks in the can should let us know if we’re going to be able to get along.”

  Mr. Wyatt looked surprised. “You’d put her ashore again, Captain?”

  I made a show of considering it. “I’ll put anybody ashore if I think they’re a threat to the ship, Mr. Wyatt.” I sipped to let that sink in. “But she’s no danger to the ship.”

  I felt Mr. Hill stiffen. “You seem pretty certain, Captain.”

  “I am, Mr. Hill.” I turned to look at him. “How long have you known her, Mr. Hill?”

  He seemed startled and looked up at me, but then shrugged. “Couple stanyers, Skipper. Most of the tractor crews know each other. Same fleet, same runs, same ships. We cross paths more often than some.”

  “You have any personal issues? Does Mr. Schubert?”

  He thought about it for a couple heartbeats before shaking his head. “No, Skipper. I don’t and I don’t think Chooch does.” He sipped and I could tell he was still thinking. “She’s got a reputation on the docks. Most people give her a wide berth. She’s bounced around a lot.” He glanced up at me before lowering his eyes again.

  “Go on, Mr. Hill.”

  He took a short breath before replying. “The word is she’s a bit quick with the knife. You don’t want to get too close.”

  “Ah, I see.” I took a quick swallow from the top of my mug. “That’s why you’re concerned about Ms. Thomas?”

  He nodded but didn’t speak.

  “You ever own a cat, Mr. Hill?”

  “A cat?” He shook his head. “No, sar.”

  “Me, either, Mr. Hill, but I have it on good authority that cats have claws. They tend to use them when they feel threatened.” I turned my head in his direction just slightly. “Sometimes people don’t heed the warnings and they get clawed.”

  He looked up with a frown. “What if there’s no warning, Skipper?”

  I smiled. “Well, that’s a good point. And a good reason to give a cat a wide berth.” I arched an eyebrow.

  The point struck home and he nodded again.

  I heard Ms. Thomas call from the lock. “Skipper? I think we’re ready now.”

  I downed the tail of my coffee and slotted the dirty cup. Mr. Hill was ahead of me, taking his with him back to his watch.

  Mr. Wyatt caught my eye. “You sure about this stray cat, Skipper?” He had a gentle smile on his face.

  I stopped and thought for a heartbeat. “No, Avery. I’m not.” I stopped to really think about it for another heartbeat and decided to let him in on the secret. “Mr. Maloney used her as a threat to get me to torpedo Mr. Ricks’ chances. That didn’t sit well with me.”

  He looked concerned. “So you’re gonna bring her aboard to spite him, Skipper?”

  I shook my head a little. “Yeah, I know it looks that way, but there’s more here than meets the eye.” I grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know what. In a lot of ways we’re all stray cats aboard this ship.”

  He gave a small laugh and raised his mug in salute. “Can’t argue that, Skipper.”

  I gave him a little nod and headed out to the lock where Ms. Arellone stood on the scale with one duffelbag. Ms. Thomas stood beside her with the second. “Is she under the limit, Mr. Hill?”

  He squinted at the screen. “By about 10 grams, Skipper.”

  I caught Ms. Thomas’s eye and she nodded back.

  “Okay, then, book her aboard, Mr. Hill.” I turned to Ms. Arellone. “Are you still armed, Ms. Arellone?”

  She looked at me somewhat sullenly. “No, Captain.”

  “Where are your weapons?”

  Ms. Thomas held up the second duffel. “In here, Captain.”

  “Mr. Hill? Would you weigh in that second bag please?”

  They did the weigh in and when the numbers were up, turned to me.

  “Book it to Agamemnon, if you please, Mr. Hill.”

  He looked surprised, but Ms. Thomas didn’t.

  I turned to Ms. Arellone. “We’ll store that in the embargo locker until such time as you re-earn your full share rating. You can have it back then.”

  She nodded warily. “Thank you, Captain.” She wanted to ask something else.

  “Yes? I hear a ‘but’ there, Ms. Arellone?”

  “What about my blades?”

  “Oh, yes! Thank you for reminding me.” I turned to Ms. Thomas. “Would you get her weapons out of there, Ms. Thomas?”

  She looked at me curiously. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  She unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of blades bound together with a spare belt.

  “Ms. Arellone? Are those all the weapons in that bag?”

  She started to say yes, but looked at me. “No, Captain.”

  “Would you help Ms. Thomas find them all, please?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” She didn’t look pleased but she crossed to where Gwen had the bag open and pulled out a heavy belt with an ornate buckle. She held it up. “That’s all that’s in that bag, sar.”

  I pointed to the watch stander console. “If you’d put them on the desk, please?”

  She did so and Ms. Thomas zipped up the bag in front of her.

  “Now, would you get the weapons you’ve managed to put into this bag on the desk as well, Ms. Arellone?” I nudged the duffel that she’d been holding while at the scales.

  Ms. Thomas shot me a look and Mr. Hill looked a bit smug. Ms. Arellone scowled but knelt beside the bag and pulled out a spare boot. She reached inside and retrieved a small sheathed blade.

  I nodded to the desk and she placed it in the pile.

&nbs
p; “Any more, Ms. Arellone?”

  “No, Captain. That’s all I managed to pack.”

  I nodded and indicated that she should zip up the duffel. We waited while she complied and stood.

  Ms. Thomas was hiding a small smile behind her hand and Mr. Hill was looking at the pile of cutlery with some amount of awe.

  “Now, if you’d put all your hold out weapons on the table as well, please, Ms. Arellone?”

  She turned to me, surprise writ large in her eyes. “I don’t–” she started to say, but clamped her jaw shut before she could finish the statement when I arched a brow. She sighed and pulled a small blade from her boot and slipped another from the back of her collar.

  Ms. Thomas looked amused. Mr. Hill looked appalled.

  “Is that all, Ms. Arellone?”

  She scowled but she nodded. “Yes, Captain. That’s all of my blades.”

  “Is that all of your weapons, Ms. Arellone?”

  She sighed and pulled a slim pen shaped cylinder from the pocket of her pants, placing it on the desk. She patted her pockets and then looked at me. “That’s all.” She seemed smaller somehow.

  I crossed to the desk and looked the pile over. Before reaching for anything I looked to her. “May I examine them, Ms. Arellone?”

  She shrugged sullenly. “It’s your ship, Captain.”

  I took that as permission and picked up the pen shaped object. It appeared to be a pen but made of solid metal. It massed more than it looked like it should have. I held it up in front of her. “Can you explain this?”

  Her eyes focused on it. “Tactical defense device. The point isn’t sharp but it hurts if you press it into somebody. The flat top works too if you just want to convince people to back off.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Arellone.”

  I turned back to the pile on the desk. The boot and collar blades were small, lightweight ceramics, meant to be concealed. The larger blades were the obvious ones, the ones you’d wear to scare people off. I placed the pen back on the desk and picked up the heavier blades and the belt which had been stowed in the extra duffel.

  I turned to Ms. Arellone and held them up. “These, we’ll store in the weapons locker for now.” I handed them to Ms. Thomas. “If you’d take care of that and give her a receipt for them, please, Ms. Thomas?”