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

by Nathan Lowell

  “That we are, Ms. Arellone.”

  “This is going to be a fast run, isn’t it, sar?”

  “Yes, it is, Ms. Arellone. Shall we get on with it?”

  She grinned, and scampered up the ladder as I sealed the lock in preparation for getting underway. I used the repaired console to log the action at 1040. We’d be able to leave any time after 1240. I kicked off a canned message to traffic control and orbital security indicating that the lock was sealed in preparation for departure at 1330.

  It felt like maybe we were beginning to get a handle on things. I hated thinking that because I dreaded finding out just how wrong I probably was.

  As I trudged up the ladder with that depressing thought, I realized that there must be more to the ship than showed. Looking back at the cargo cubes gleaming in the dim light, I wondered how anybody could make a profit carrying so little cargo. When I got to the landing at the top and looked down the passageway, past the passenger compartments, I wondered if passengers would help enough. We could only carry ten at most. I sighed, and headed for the cabin to work on my log book for a few ticks before I reported to the galley to fix lunch.

  The log book looked a bit sparse. I really needed to do a better job than the few statements about where we were, what we were doing, and outstanding issues.

  At 1100 I went to the mess deck, and tried to think of something nice to make for lunch. We’d be at navigation stations shortly after, so I didn’t want to make anything too messy. Of course, once we got pulled back and headed out, I could secure the navigation detail, and ride out to the safety limit by myself. For that matter, I could trust the helm to Ms. Arellone. Running under power wasn’t that much different from running under sail.

  So many things to think about, so little time. I found myself aching for the long, untrammeled hours of being in the Deep Dark so I could get my head together. I needed to start thinking and planning, acting instead of always reacting.

  I rummaged in the pantry and chillers, and came up with the fixings for sloppy joes as a change from the cold cuts and salad. Soup stock needed to wait until I could get some bones simmering, but there would be time enough once we got the sails up, and the watchstander merry-go-round started again.

  Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone came up to the galley about 1115. They helped me scramble up the hamburger and warm some buns. While Ms. Arellone mixed in some tomatoes and spices, I checked my astrogation solutions once more. It had been a long time since I’d done astrogation from scratch, and it needed to be as perfect as I could make it. We were on a tight delivery window for some of the cargo, and I didn’t want to blow it on our first trip.

  When I ran the numbers again, they looked odd.

  “Ms. Arellone? Ms. Maloney? I need to re-run these astrogation numbers. I seem to have made an error. Can you finish fixing lunch while I do that?”

  They shared a look and a nod. “Aye, aye, Captain,” Ms. Arellone said with a smile. She gave me a jaunty wave of her wooden spoon.

  I ran up the ladder to the bridge, and pulled up the astrogation work sheets, rechecking the defaults for the ship, and then loading up our cargo. I saw the problem immediately in the detail workup. I’d slipped a decimal point in the mass of the cargo. Dealing with both mass and volume was still new to me, and I made a mental note to double-check each time. The difficulty came from working for so long in fixed container sizes. A fifteen metric kiloton can was a standard block. I knew what it massed. Iris had an open cargo bay. I needed to be more careful when taking loads because the available volume was finite and quite small compared to the rated power available. The cargo we had aboard, while slightly more than half filling the hold, massed something around one tenth of our capacity of nine and a half kilotons. We were running practically empty.

  With the sail size and load, the astrogation calculator gave us a six-day run out to the burleson limit. The run into Welliver would be closer to seven because of the orbital’s position relation to the system’s primary. Just for fun, I checked to see how far we could go with that load, and blinked when I realized that from Diurnia we could hit any other settled system in the quadrant in just one jump.

  I sat back in my seat, and contemplated what that meant. In the Agamemnon, the trip from Diurnia to Greenfields could take several weeks, depending on jumps and stops. Following the normal navigational paths, it might have taken upwards of half a stanyer. Jumping through the Deep Dark might make it only two months. Iris could make the same trip to Greenfields in just under fourteen days. I began to get a better grasp on why these ships were called fast packets.

  I filed that information away for future use. In my desire to find a comfortable destination for our shakedown cruise, I’d limited my cargo choices to the systems I knew. I suspected we could do better looking for cargoes that needed to go very far in very little time. A knot in my gut began to ease.

  I amended our flight plan with traffic control, and went back down to the galley to get some lunch.

  Ms. Arellone smiled when I entered. “Find it, Skipper?”

  “Yes, Ms. Arellone, I entered the volume instead of mass. Messed up the numbers a bit.” I walked over to the stove top, and smelled the mixture simmering there. “This smells wonderful.”

  “Thanks, Skipper, but Ms. Maloney helped.” She nodded her head at the other woman.

  “Thank you, Ms. Maloney!” I took another whiff, and tried to place the spicy smell. “What’d you add? Cumin?”

  Ms. Maloney tilted her head in surprise. “Good nose, Captain. Yes, just a bit.”

  I glanced at the chrono and went to help toast buns for lunch. We’d need to move it along if we were going to serve on time.

  “You do realize that with only the four of us, we don’t really need to toast a lot in advance, don’t you, Captain?”

  I looked at the bag in my hands, and the pair in the toaster, and then the stack already toasted on a platter. I sighed, and placed the bag gently back on the counter. “Um. Yes. That’s ... probably enough, isn’t it?”

  She raised her eyebrows, and nodded with an amused grin on her face.

  “Sorry.” I sought refuge in a mug of coffee.

  Ms. Arellone rescued me by asking, “What’s our timetable looking like, Skipper?”

  “Six days out to the jump limit, seven on the other end. We’ll be on Welliver Orbital on the twelfth, if all goes well.”

  “Will that be in time for the cargoes, sar?”

  “It will, Ms. Arellone. We should be about three days ahead on the closer one.”

  I noticed Ms. Maloney looking at me with an odd expression like she was listening to something in her head, or trying to retrieve a lost memory.

  “Did you say six days to jump, Captain?” she asked, finally.

  “Yes, Ms. Maloney. We’re overpowered and under mass. This is going to be a quick trip.”

  A smile began to break across her face. “You weren’t kidding about being two weeks from Welliver, then?”

  I shook my head. “No, Ms. Maloney, and I realized that we could just as easily jump to Greenfields in the same amount of time.”

  She looked at me, a startled frown on her face. “Greenfields, Captain? That’s astonishing.”

  “I thought so, too, Ms. Maloney. Iris may not have much in the way of cargo hold, but she’s got really long legs.”

  A thoughtful look lowered across Ms. Maloney’s face as she turned, took the plate of buns to the table, and grabbed a pair of tongs on the way by.

  Chief Bailey ambled onto the mess deck, mug hooked in his left hand, and sniffing like a dog on a scent. “My heavens! What’s that wonderful smell? Is it food? Yes, of course! Is it lunch? Oh, yah. I’m ready for that, I am, indeed.” He made for the coffee pot, and I stepped aside to keep from getting trampled.

  “We ready to get underway, Chief?”

  He sipped his coffee, and sighed extravagantly. “Oh, aye, Cap. Auxiliaries on standby. Fusactors ready to power up, they are.” He nodded several times. “
We’re strainin’ at the moorin’, Cap, see if we hain’t.”

  Ms. Arellone caught my eye then with a nod to the chrono. “Lunch mess, Captain?”

  “Absolutely, Ms. Arellone. That aroma is driving me mad. Let’s eat!”

  As we settled I couldn’t help but consider all the members of my little crew. Ms. Arellone, as lead spacer, seemed to be doing very well. Ms. Maloney contributed in ways I never would have expected out of a poor, little, rich kid being put upon by parental unreasonableness. Chief Bailey was the enigma—part engineman, part bodyguard, and I wasn’t really sure what else. As much as I liked his irascible manner, I sometimes got the sense that it wasn’t all in good fun for him. I gave an inward shrug. After having Chief Gerheart taking care of my ship, anybody else would suffer by comparison. I set it aside, and gave the pile of bread, meat, and sauce on my plate my full attention.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Diurnia System:

  2373-January-2

  Three days out of Diurnia, I relieved a sleepy-eyed Ms. Maloney at 0545, and we both adjourned to the galley for breakfast. I’d been up for half a stan already, and had fresh coffee ready along with a half sheet of biscuits. I threw a little butter in the pan, whisked up some eggs, and raised an eyebrow holding the pan up.

  She blinked and sipped again before answering. “Ham, onion, peppers, cheddar, please, Captain.”

  I obliged, and got the mixture set and folded before the chief shambled in. “Ah, coffee! Cap, you do make the best coffee in the quadrant, yes, you do.”

  “Thanks, Chief. What would you like in your omelet today?”

  “Just cheese, Cap, that be great. Just cheese, and thankee kindly.”

  I slipped Ms. Maloney’s breakfast onto a plate, and handed it to her just as her toast popped. She grinned, collecting plate and toast before settling at the table with a friendly nod toward Chief Bailey.

  “Ms. Arellone not joinin’ us this morning, Cap? Sleepin’ in is she?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure, Chief. She was up late last night, and this is her day off.”

  He nodded and sipped, blinking a bit. “Anythin’ you need fixed today, Cap? Generators doin’ good. Fusactors purr like a cat, yah, they do. Might be I get some time today.”

  “I’ve got a list of broken switches and missing light panels. I’ll send that to you in a bit. We also need to get the passenger compartments ready for habitation. I’ll apply for my steward’s endorsement when we hit Welliver. It would be nice if we could pick up a passenger or two, and see how that works going back.”

  “Oh, aye, Cap. Can do. Send me yer list, and I’ll start chippin’ away at ’em.”

  I plated his omelet, and handed it to him before throwing some onions, peppers, and a bit of ham in to make one for myself.

  “Captain, what about the passenger cabins?” Ms. Maloney asked when I sat down.

  “We’ve got a few days to get those cleaned up and ready for habitation, Ms. Maloney. I’ve been just waiting for us to get the routine down before making it more complicated.”

  Ms. Maloney had drawn first helm watch after getting underway. I sat with her for that whole watch, and then did my own six behind it. She was fine after that, and stood her own watches without a hitch. The accumulated stress from the previous two weeks added to a back-to-back watch, laid me out in my bunk for ten solid stans. Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone dealt with feeding themselves and the chief, while I visited dreamland. The progress pleased me.

  “Is there any procedure you’d like us to follow, sar?” she asked.

  “Just clean them out. After we get them cleaned up, we can see if they need painting before we provision them.”

  “What about the mattresses that are in there, sar?”

  “Toss ’em. Ms. Arellone and I should have done that when we cleaned out crew quarters but I was being stupidly single-minded.”

  “Okay, Captain. Thanks. I’m feeling a little antsy already, and maybe having a project to work on will help.”

  I laughed a little. “Almost everybody out here has a hobby. If you don’t mind doing it, I’d certainly be grateful, but don’t push yourself. Try to get a nap sometime before you come back on watch at noon.”

  “Aye, aye, sar.” She smiled. “I suspect Ms. Arellone will be getting up in a bit. Perhaps the two of us can at least strip them down and get them ready for cleaning before I go back to bed.”

  “There’s plenty of spare room down in the cargo bay. Just toss them down there, and we’ll bundle them up for disposal in Welliver.”

  “Aye, aye, sar. We can do that.”

  “When you get ready, Miss, you let me know and I’ll give yer a hand, see if’n I don’t. Between the three of us, I bet we can get them compartments right nice looking a’fore we hit port agin, right nice looking.” The chief nodded emphatically with each phrase. He turned to me. “You got that punch list, Cap? I’m bout done eatin’ here, and I’ll go track down the weevils.”

  I nodded and pulled out my tablet. In seconds he had the combined lists that Ms. Arellone and I had compiled. “There ya go, Chief. Let me know if you have any issues, or if there’s something big broken that we missed.”

  He scanned the list and nodded. “Oh, aye, Cap,” he replied slowly, distracted by his reading. “I’ll do that, I’ll do jus’ that.”

  I got to the end of my omelet, and helped Ms. Maloney put the galley back together while the chief muttered off down the passage. By 0645 I was back on the bridge, and actually had a chance to sit and think.

  My logs were up to date. The last round of paperwork was done from our stay in Diurnia, and the bills all paid. I eyed my rapidly dwindling millions and wondered how it could disappear so fast. Almost all of it was gone to one time charges for licenses or refurbishment charges, so while the start-up costs staggered me, few of them would repeat any time soon—certainly not in the next ninety days. I sighed.

  I checked the consoles once more. The autopilot kept us on course like we were some fantastic bead on a very long wire. We had no way points in this watch, and the winds blew steadily with a smooth laminar flow. On the Agamemnon, Mr. Pall and I had studied the wind patterns above and below the plane of the ecliptic, and I borrowed from every page of that book in setting our course to Welliver. Iris climbed up and out of the Diurnia system on a smooth, curving course that would take us about thirty degrees above the plane. Both of the system’s gas giants were directly behind Diurnia’s primary, and we had clear sailing.

  The chrono read 0700, and I pulled out my tablet to review the steward’s certification for my master’s license. I had only just scratched the surface of it, but the further I went, the more my memories of taking the full share rating in steward division came back to help me along, and it went faster.

  At one point the sound of feminine laughter echoed up the ladder, and I heard several whumping sounds that could have been mattresses falling from a height. There was more laughter and more whumps. I grinned and dug back into my reading.

  At 1000 I went down to the galley for a refill on my coffee, and found Ms. Arellone rinsing out cleaning rags in the deep sink. She greeted me brightly enough. “Good morning, Skipper. Exciting watch?” She grinned.

  “Stellar, Ms. Arellone. Stellar.”

  She groaned at the pun.

  “You’ve been cleaning the passenger compartments, Ms. Arellone?”

  “Yes, sar. Between the three of us, we’ve dragged all the old crusty bedding out and tossed it below.” At the mention of the crustiness she made a little disgusted face which included sticking out her tongue, and frowning alarmingly.

  “Should we put them in hazmat isolation, Ms. Arellone?”

  “Vacuum would be best, I think, Skipper, but we can’t very well just toss them. Or can we?” She looked over at me with a hopeful expression.

  I laughed. “No, Ms. Arellone. We can’t.”

  She stamped her foot in pretend-pique and then shrugged, returning to her wash rags. “Well, Ms. Maloney has gone
to lay down for a bit before watch, but I think I’ll work a bit more.” She glanced at me. “What’s for lunch, by the way?”

  “Good question.” I sipped my coffee and pondered an answer. “Cold chicken and hot potato salad?” I suggested. “Peas on the side?”

  She didn’t look too enthusiastic. “I think I’d just as soon have cold cuts, sar. They’re fast and easy, and you’ll be making something for dinner won’t you?”

  “Yes, Ms. Arellone. I’m thinking of making a lasagna for dinner. Garlic bread and green beans on the side.”

  “Oh, sounds wonderful, sar.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Arellone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get back on the bridge.”

  She grinned, and waved her scrub brush.

  I topped off my coffee, and headed for the ladder again. When I got up there and checked the screens, I walked around a bit, stretching my back and admiring the view out into the Deep Dark. Diurnia was a blue dot far astern and the primary a shimmering yellow pin head off our port quarter as the ship climbed.

  As I stood at the forward end of the bridge, there were only three or four meters of hull between the bridge and the bow. I stood there rolling my shoulders and staring dumbly at the surface of the hull. It didn’t look like other hull plating, but then, this was the first Higbee-built hull I had been on so the odd texture might be something they did for dissipating heat.

  I stood there remembering the extra shielding that Ms. Arellone and I had spotted on the schematics of the ship. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the basic pattern on the hull reminded me of that. Curious, I went aft and looked along the spine of the ship. The bridge didn’t stick up very far so my angle on the outer hull plates was tightly oblique. I couldn’t see much, but it did seem to me that there were several sections of the plating that carried the same general shape as we’d seen in the diagram.

  I pulled out my tablet just as I heard steps on the ladder, and Ms. Arellone stuck her head up onto the bridge. “Skipper?”