Tanager's Fledglings (The Tanager Book 1)

by Cedar Sanderson

  Jem nodded. The cookies were delicious.

  “But it turns out that a little plant will go nearly anywhere. Lighting in most ships – if the captains have a half a care – is adjusted like daylight, so plants are happy. And in real tight spaces, we offer epiphytes.”

  “Epiphytes?” Jem asked, cocking his head.

  “Air plants. They don’t need soil ‘round their roots.” Misha explained.

  “Ah. I have a hydroponics set up on the Tanager,” Jem set his teacup down, empty. “And a small garden, but I sell most of my compost onto terraforming worlds.”

  Liam looked startled. “A whole garden? And compost to sell?”

  Jem nodded. It was very unusual, he knew. Then again, he’d never seen a store like the Greengrocer before, either. A few places sold seeds, roots, even small plants. But this… this was like planetside, on station. “I have livestock aboard, you see, and the manure has to be broken down or it produces some unpleasant effluent.”

  “Manure?” Misha’s voice squeaked a little with excitement. “Da…” she turned to Liam, who had regained his usual good humor. “Oh, Da!”

  Liam laughed. “I think you have a customer, lad.”

  Jem swallowed. His throat was a bit tight. “Would you, er, care to come see my garden?”

  Liam lifted an eyebrow. Jem hastily added “Both of you, of course, sir.”

  “Pshaw, I’m no sir.” Liam poured himself another cup, taking a long moment to reply. “I think it’s late.”

  Jem’s heart fell. He really wanted more time to talk to Misha. But Liam kept talking “In the morning, I’d say, after breakfast?”

  Jem nodded. He wished he could invite them to come for breakfast but his cooking…. He stood. “I will see you then.”

  Misha walked with him to the door. Jem was uncomfortably aware of the amusement in Liam’s eyes as the older man watched them go.

  “Thank you for inviting us,” she told him.

  “It’s my pleasure, I don’t get guests, er…” Jem thought for a moment. “Ever, really.”

  She tilted her head. “Ever?”

  “It’s only been my ship for less than a season.” He explained. “Before, they were Walter’s guests.”

  “Like me,” she nodded. “It’s Da, or the uncles, who have company.”

  “Surely…” He blurted, then wished he’d bitten his tongue.

  She laughed. “I have friends! But it’s not like having your own place.”

  He wondered if he was imagining that she looked wistful.

  “Er… good night, then.” He really wasn’t sure what else to say, or do, but he couldn’t stand here staring at her forever.

  She opened the door and he stepped out onto the hard station floor. It was late, he realized with a start. The station lights had been dimmed. He started for the Tanager with long strides, knowing he’d left the puppy alone for too long and feeling very guilty suddenly.

  Chapter 6: Gardeners

  Jem was more than ready when the bell at the hatch rang in the morning. He’d been over the garden, the beeves and woolies, and finally, after some thought, the bridge. He didn’t know if they would be interested, and he might decide not to show them, but at least it wouldn’t embarrass him now.

  “Welcome to the Tanager,” he said, stepping aside to allow them into the entry hold. Misha looked around her with bright eyes while Liam clasped hands with Jem.

  “Um,” Jem paused, not sure where to start.

  Misha took the decision away from him. “What is that?”

  She fell to her knees, and the puppy bounced off her legs, his ears flying. She squeaked.

  “It’s ok.” Jem assured Liam as much as Misha, who didn’t look worried a bit. “That’s a puppy.”

  “A juvenile dog.” Liam supplied for Misha, who was discovering puppy kisses with a peal of giggles.

  “He’s adorable and so soft!” She stood up, holding him.

  “Put him down, dear,” her father said. He was smiling broadly. “You’ll teach him bad habits.”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” Jem found he was smiling from ear to ear. “I don’t baby him, but you’re helping me, you see.”

  “What do you mean?” Misha nuzzled the puppy’s head.

  “He needs to be socialized, before I sell him.” Jem explained.

  “You’re selling him?” She sounded torn between scandalized and… her father interrupted whatever she was going to say.

  “We have no place for a dog, girl!”

  She threw him a mock pout and gracefully turned the subject. “How big is the Tanager, Jem?”

  Gratefully changing the subject, Jem pointed to the other hatch. “How about I show you?”

  They followed him into the cargo holds. Misha put the puppy down and looked around with wide eyes. “It’s huge!” she said, awe in her voice.

  “Not really.” Jem shrugged. “It’s medium sized, but it’s not compartmentalized like some ships are… I don’t know how big the Greengrocer is?”

  He looked at Liam, who nodded. “The Greengrocer is a mid-size carrier, too, but for hygiene purposes it’s broken into small compartments that can be sealed depending on where we dock.”

  Jem nodded. “We… ah, I… can seal the outer hold but the inners all have to be cleared for an open docking.”

  He opened the hold where the beeves were. “Here’s your main manure source, Misha.”

  She held back from the pen with wide eyes. Jem wondered if she had ever been on-planet. Surely down to Oz? He explained the big brown beasts and then took them away from the skittish creatures into the woolies compartment.

  “So many colors!” Misha had gotten over her nerves, and they all leaned over the pen and fed the modified sheep cob cubes. The feed was compressed grain and sticky molasses and a rare treat for the creatures. He wasn’t worried about the woolies biting her fingers, they didn’t have teeth on their front uppers, just like regular sheep.

  “They are designer sheep, really.” He explained. “The gen-engineer who first made them was trying to get colors that mimicked natural dyes, not normal sheep colors.”

  “I thought all sheep were white.” She dusted her hands off, finished with the cubes.

  Jem shook his head. “Sheep can be anything from white to brown to black and some are spotted. But this designer – I don’t think anyone knows their name – wanted greens and blues and pinks…”

  “And tie-dye?” She laughed, pointing at the furthest sheep.

  “Well, there were some hybrid sports that went in odd directions… I’m told not to use them for breeding, no one knows what you will get.”

  Liam’s eyebrows went up. He’d been very quiet, but now he asked, “They are fertile?”

  Jem nodded. “That’s why I still have them, most planets won’t allow them. But Oz seemed a likely market and Walter got a permit for the woolies last trip.”

  “So if Tie-Dye has a baby, it might be flowered or polka-dot?” Misha smirked.

  Jem laughed. She was having less of an effect on him as they spent more time together and he focused on work rather than how she looked.

  “Ready for the garden?” He asked now.

  She nodded eagerly.

  Jem wished, as he slid open the hatch, that it was more impressive. He was afraid that he’d built it up too much, now. Misha, though, was more than happy with it.

  “Raised beds! Oh, look, Da!”

  Jem didn’t try to explain anything in here, he had a feeling she’d know it better than he did. She stooped and pushed her fingers into the soil without hesitation.

  “Jem, this is wonderful. I thought the Greengrocer was the only ship with a real garden on it.”

  She stood up and looked around intently. “Oh, look, flowers!”

  Jem felt his cheeks heat up. “The purple ones were Walter’s. I, ah, like the pink ones. About the ship’s garden….” Jem shrugged and changed the subject. “I know there are a few, but this one’s bigger, Walter told me. He liked to have f
resh produce when we were on long legs, and we sometimes sold some surplus. I thought it was more work than it was worth until he had me taste the strawberries.”

  Liam looked oddly at him. Misha didn’t give him a chance to ask the question Jem could see in Liam’s eyes. “Strawberries?”

  “You know what they are, right?” Jem wasn’t sure.

  “Of course. But are they in season?”

  “Well, we have alpines and everbearing. So they are always in season.”

  “Ooh!” Now he had her undivided attention.

  Grinning, Jem led her to the hydroponics system and showed her the long row of hanging gutters that made up the grow beds. “Help yourself.”

  She delicately picked and ate one. “These are the best. Da, do we have these?”

  Liam shook his head. “Most people want big berries.”

  “These are smaller, but have better flavor,” Jem pointed out. “I have satellite plants if you want to include them?”

  “How much manure can you sell me?” Misha asked, eating another berry. She looked reluctantly at the plants before turning away. Jem was secretly pleased that she wasn’t greedy.

  “I have ten cubics. I can spare it, the beeves will make more and my main buyer is a few stops down the way. They’ll take what I have, but don’t have a quota.”

  “Do you always have the beeves?” Liam asked.

  Misha seemed to be doing some inner calculations. Jem left her to it and turned his attention to her father. “No, they are designated for Lalibele, and it’s near to my last stop on the route. They come from Altair, so they make a long part of my trip with me.” Jem grimaced. “I’d rather less… lively cargo, but we have a contract.”

  Liam nodded with understanding. “How long does the contract have to run? And how many holds do you have?”

  “Two more seasons, and I’ll likely renew unless I trip over something more lucrative.” Jem had a moment of serious disconnect. It was like listening to Walter talk through his mouth. He pushed the wave of grief away – this was not the time! – and went on, hoping it didn’t show in his voice. “I’ve got six open holds, not counting this one and the beeves. Were you thinking about consigning a cargo?”

  Liam looked thoughtful. “Perhaps not this trip. How much time does your route take you?”

  “Two Earth years, usually. Sometimes there’s a snag.” Jem had only experienced one with Walter, a six month delay, but Walter had always told him not to make hard promises on time.

  “Interesting.” Liam looked at Misha. “Decided what you want, m’dear?”

  “Well, how much do you want to get per cubic?” She asked Jem.

  The negotiations took a little time. Liam let them hash it out together, wandering off into the garden, not out of sight but far enough to make it clear this was his daughter’s deal. Jem enjoyed the game. They settled on the ten cubics, plus all his satellite strawberry plants he could spare. She pulled out a miniature tablet and unfolded it, sitting on the floor so she could type up the contract. Jem pulled the puppy away, as the small creature was quite taken with Misha and wanted to climb onto her lap.

  Carrying the puppy, he went to see Liam.

  “Jem,” the older man nodded. “I see you came to a mutual agreement.”

  “Yes, si…” Jem cut off the honorific with difficulty. “Sorry, long habit.”

  Liam chuckled. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate good manners, lad. Just makes me feel old.”

  “She wants all the cubic.”

  He didn’t look surprised. “She’s had a project in mind for a while. This is a good thing. She’s restless.”

  Liam looked from Jem to the blonde head of his daughter, still bent over her portable keyboard. “She’s my only chick, and we all hover a bit more than she’d like, I think. My brothers, her uncles, run the ship, I man the shop with her now… She was born on the ship, you see, but when her mother was gone, I decided we needed to settle nearer people.”

  Liam ruffled the pup’s ears. “Like the puppy, she needed to socialize. The shop was good for that.”

  Jem thought he could understand that. If he’d lived all his life with nothing but the Tanager and Walter…

  “Now, lad,” Liam said quietly. “I did a bit of checking last night.”

  “Yes?” Jem wondered if something was wrong.

  “Your ship has a good reputation.”

  “Glad to hear that, then.” Jem still wasn’t sure what the older man was driving at.

  Liam looked uncomfortable. “It’s the girl, I’m thinking of.”

  Jem frowned. “I don’t understand. I have no intentions….” He couldn’t, possibly, and he barely knew her even if she did turn his guts to molten lava.

  Liam raised a hand to stop him. “It’s like this. The shop, the ship, they’re all she’s known. And she has no place to stretch her wings. What I had in mind, next time you’re through, was a proposal of sorts. Not cargo, but she could take on the Tanager, her own set-up. A branch of the Greengrocer, as it were. But…”

  Jem thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea, to diversify, and she’d do better with the garden trade than he ever could. “But?”

  “I’d be happier if you had other crew.” Liam said bluntly. “You’re a young man, and young men get ideas about young women. She needs to make her own mind, not have it made for her.”

  Jem felt himself blushing. She had struck him as beautiful, but if there was one thing he did not need or want, it was romance. Not yet. “I understand,” he said somewhat stiffly.

  “Think on it.” Liam didn’t say more, because Misha, looked distracted, was coming up with her tablet.

  “Is this acceptable?” She handed it to Jem. “It’s my first.” She said shyly. “I want it to be right.”

  Liam coughed oddly and looked away. Jem focused on reading through the contract and not thinking about the innocent innuendo. “There’s a repeat clause here…”

  “Shoot.” She took it and tapped, deleting it. “I put in a clause for optioning the next time you come through, see? I don’t know when I’d find another ship offering fine manure…”

  Jem couldn’t help it, that made him laugh. He quickly put his print to the contract to seal it. “Fine manures and berries, milady.” He swept a low bow and flourish to her as he handed her tablet back. “At your service.”

  She laughed. “That did sound funny, didn’t it? I mean, you don’t expect your sewer and your garden to be connected, yet they really are.”

  “Misha’s plumbing and greengrocery.” Her father supplied, his voice dry. “I’m not sure that would attract customers, love.”

  “It’s all clean!” She said, sticking her tongue out at her father.

  Jem couldn’t help himself, and he laughed out loud. Misha looked confused, then blushed a brilliant pink.

  “Men!” she said, turning on her heel and scooping up the puppy.

  Jem choked off the laugh and gestured to the hatch. “Would you care to finish the tour of the good Tanager?”

  “Sure thing,” Liam was chuckling. “She’ll catch up to us.”

  She was on their heels when they reached the entrance to the cargo hold.

  Jem pointed. “The living area is this way. It’s a bit smaller.”

  After the high ceilings of the holds, the living area seemed cramped. Jem could stand on tiptoes and brush the ceiling with his fingertips, and Liam was of a height with him. But Misha’s head only came up to his shoulder, and she looked around with lively interest.

  “It’s cozy.” She was standing in the gathering area, which had comfortable seating on one side of the room in a rough circle Walter had referred to as ‘conversational’ to Jem’s confusion. On the other, a table bolted to the deck harked back to an era when the gravitic generators were not as reliable. The benches from that era were gone, replaced with several battered but sturdy wooden chairs. Walter and Jem had eaten together there for one meal a day, a tradition Walter had set the first night and never misse
d until the end was near.

  Jem realized as he looked around with fresh eyes, seeing what his guests saw, that he’d been eating in the bridge or his cabin too often. “It is.” He said. “It’s too much for just me, but I’ve been hesitant about bringing crew on.”

  Liam looked shrewdly at him. “Trust is a rare commodity.”

  Jem nodded. “Misha, you were born on a ship, so the bridge would probably bore you.”

  “Not at all.” She bounced up from the couch where she had been sitting and followed him into the control room.

  Jem knew the term bridge was a throwback to merchants who sailed Earth’s seas, but it felt right. The high-back captain’s chair was his throne, he sometimes felt, from which he ruled the galaxy. Or the Tanager, which was the same thing, really. Misha touched the arm of it.

  “You can sit, I don’t mind,” he told her. Liam, leaning one shoulder against the coping of the hatch, fluttered one eyelid in a fleeting wink at Jem.

  Misha, unconscious of the byplay, sat carefully and looked at the board. “Some of this is familiar from the Greengrocer.”

  “She’s not a fast ship, nor new, but we maintain her regularly.” Jem felt a rush of pride. The Tanager was solid, and she was his. “Walter added stabilizers for entering and exiting warp that let us carry livestock without worrying about them feeling the transition too bad. A stampede in the hold could be dangerous.”

  “I can understand that.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Transition on the Greengrocer always made me feel ill. I never got used to it. When I was small, Ma would have to hold me and catch the sick in a bag. I hated that.”

  “You got over some of that.” Liam said.

  “Yes, which was good when Ma jumped ship.”

  Jem blinked. He’d assumed her mother was dead. Liam, behind Misha’s back, shook his head and Jem didn’t ask. Misha got up with a sigh.

  “Jem, this is wonderful, and thank you. But I have to arrange transport for my manure.”

  “I’ll be ready if you message me when to expect it. I have to get some shopping and deals done this afternoon.” Jem looked at the time. “Which will be soon now. Would you join me for lunch?”