In Ashes Born (A Seeker's Tale From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1)

by Nathan Lowell

  “After the first twenty groups I’m sure you’ll be able to say it in your sleep,” I said and smiled to myself at the horrified look on her face.

  After the first group left the mess deck I sent the next team down to the lock to pick up their charges. In due time they returned and we repeated the set piece for them.

  When they left, I sent the next.

  And the next.

  After the last group had disappeared into the ship, I took the opportunity to fill my cup. My head was already spinning from all the talking. I found some relief in the quiet. I settled at the designated wardroom table and waited for the first group to come back around on their way out to the lock. I tried not to think about what could go wrong with fifty stationers with wet sponges and soapy water loose in the ship.

  When I got halfway through the cup of coffee without seeing anybody coming back, I began to worry and bipped Al. She hadn’t come back either.

  I got a response bip but no message. In a moment she appeared in the door to the mess deck shaking her head. “We may need some assistance, skipper.”

  “What’s happened? Somebody slip and fall?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “They won’t stop.”

  “Who won’t stop? Stop what?”

  “The day workers. They won’t stop cleaning.” She bit her lower lip and looked suspiciously like she was trying not to laugh.

  “Show me.”

  She led me down to the berthing area and I found the first group down on hands and knees scrubbing the decks with their sponges.

  “Where are the rest?”

  “Bentley’s got his group in the san with part of that third group. The rest of group three is down at the far end cleaning the quads. I think group four is still back in engineering and group five has claimed the spine.”

  “I thought this was going too smoothly,” I said and stepped forward into the berthing area.

  Al barked, “Captain on deck.”

  Everybody stopped what they were doing. The ratings all came to attention and the day workers looked around and finally stood up where they were.

  “Would somebody get Bentley and his team out of the san, please?” I said.

  The rating closest to the san stuck his head through the door and spoke. A half dozen people came out, sleeves up and sponges dripping. Bentley followed them and grinned at me.

  “If you can’t hear me, raise your hand,” I said.

  From the collected confused looks I figured everybody could hear well enough.

  “Thank you for your hard work, folks, but I’ve got a problem and only you can help me.”

  The whole room moved forward a half step.

  An older woman in civilian clothes stepped forward. “What do ya need, Skipper?”

  “We still have a couple hundred people out on the dock who want to come in and play. I need you all to leave them something for when they get here.”

  Several people chuckled.

  “And besides, I only contracted you for a stan and that’s almost up.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, Skipper,” the woman said. “I got plenty of time.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” I said. “But there are still a lot of people out in the cold and I’m out of sponges.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Breakall Orbital:

  2374, August 10

  The civilians accepted my words at face value and began shuffling forward. I nodded at the rating by the hatch and stepped back so he could lead his charges out. I watched them go, smiling and nodding to each. Most of them smiled and nodded back but it looked more like sad smiles than happy ones. When the second rating came by I stopped him.

  “Where’s the guy with the number one sponge? Wasn’t he in your group?”

  “Yes, sar. Didn’t he come out?”

  “Anybody know where the number one sponge is?” I asked, raising my voice to carry down the length of the berthing area.

  A kid in a coverall that was soaked to the knees raised his hand. “I think he’s up in the long corridor that went to the back of the ship.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and turned to the rating. “I’ll get him. Show your guests out and then stand by at the lock.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper,” he said and scampered down the passageway after his disappearing brood.

  It took only a few heartbeats to get up to the spine where I surprised a lounging, grinning rating into a blank-faced attention when he saw me. “Captain on deck,” he said.

  A couple of ratings further along the spine came to attention and the civilians all stopped to look.

  “Carry on.” I turned to the rating. “Sponge number one? Know where he is?”

  “No, Captain. My group is thirty through thirty-nine.”

  I slipped behind the day workers and made my way down the spine, looking for the guy in the rumpled coat who held sponge number one. I found him washing the bulkhead above the stained deck. He’d been there for some time, based on the area he’d cleaned. He didn’t look up when I approached.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  When he didn’t turn I touched his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

  He turned then, and I saw his face running with tears although his lips curved in a smile. “Sorry, Captain. I ... didn’t hear you.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I need to ask you to move on so we can let the others have a turn.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. I should have realized.”

  He used the sleeve of his coat to wipe at his face and he collected himself as I watched. He took a deep breath, almost a sigh, and let it out.

  “If you’d come with me? I’ll show you to the lock.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  I set out along the spine. After a glance down at the deck, he followed.

  When I passed the rating, I said, “We’re going to need to move them along. We’ve still got over three hundred people to go.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper,” he said and made a spinning motion with his finger in the air. His partner answered and began moving people toward us.

  I led number one down the spine and past the galley. “You seem upset,” I said. “I hope it wasn’t anything we did.”

  He shook his head and took his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “No, Captain. I’m quite all right. It’s just—my youngest—she’s on a freighter over in Ciroda. An Eighty-Eight under Cristo colors.”

  “You miss her?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Captain, but that’s not it. I thought I knew what had happened here. It was all over the newsies. Horrible. Sensational. Everybody talked about it for weeks and then we didn’t talk about it again.” He looked over at me. “Then you did that video and we all saw it. When I came aboard, I thought I understood and then I saw that ... the stain. There are a lot of them around the ship. I saw so many of them.” His eyes grew bright again and he blinked. “All I could think of was my Em out there on a ship.” He swallowed a couple of times. “Thank you, Captain. For letting us all aboard. For making sure this doesn’t happen again. At least on this ship.”

  He ducked his head and scurried out the lock.

  I had to step aside for the group coming out behind us, then followed them off to speak to Pip. “Everything going all right out here?”

  He shrugged. “We’ve got the next couple of groups ready to go, but I was beginning to wonder if something had happened on your end when nobody came out.”

  “We’re having trouble getting them to stop cleaning.”

  He looked at me for a moment, his face completely blank. “Getting them to stop?”

  “Yeah. I found two groups down in the berthing area. I had to ask them to leave some for the rest. I was afraid they’d have it done before anybody else got a chance.”

  Pip started chuckling and shaking his head.

  I didn’t really see what was so funny. We needed to give all of them a chance to get some work in or the orbita
l would seize the ship. “Laugh, but all we need is David S. Powers showing up with a restraining order.”

  “You had to mention him, didn’t you?” Pip asked, nodded at a group of orbital security marching along the dock, the lawyer in question in the lead.

  A group of soggy civilians paraded off the lock around me. They walked past Powers, who gave them a strange look. I grabbed the two ratings who’d just released their workers. “You two. Next group. Go.”

  Pip’s eyebrows scaled his forehead but he waved the next group onto the ship right in front of Powers’s nose.

  I snagged the trailing rating. “Keep them together and keep them moving but make sure they come out with wet sponges.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” He followed the team into the ship.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the gleam of a hover-cam and turned to find Ms. Marsport standing just around the edge of the lock. She saw me turn and shot me a blazing smile. “Great stuff, Captain.”

  I nodded at the approaching security guards. “This might be interesting.”

  She looked and winked. In a matter of moments her hover-cam had taken up station near the lock where it must have had a full view of the proceedings.

  “Captain! What is the meaning of this?” Powers said. “I thought I made it clear that you needed a permit for an exhibition.”

  “You did, Mr. Powers,” I said. “I’m not giving an exhibition.”

  “I’ve got a warrant for your arrest and an injunction to seize the ship,” he said. He stepped aside and waved the lead security man forward. “Serve him.”

  “Captain, I have a warrant for your arrest,” the guard said.

  “So he said. I’m not running an exhibition, officer. Do you have probable cause for serving that warrant?”

  The guard looked around at the crowd and at Pip standing behind the grav-trunk. “What are all these people doing here, Captain? Looks like you’re giving tours to me.”

  “They’re day workers.”

  “Day workers?” he asked.

  “I’m in the process of hiring them to help clean the ship to expedite our departure for the yards in Dree.”

  “Hiring them?” the guard asked and frowned at Powers. “There’s no regulation against hiring day workers, is there, Mr. Powers? If there is, we need to get this warrant changed because it’s for operating an unlicensed exhibition.”

  Powers scowled. “You’re not hiring them.”

  “We most certainly are. Do you want to read the hiring agreement? Everybody entering this ship has thumbed it.”

  Two ratings appeared at my back and Pip waved the next group in.

  “Next group. Step up. Let’s get you processed,” Pip said. He smiled up at Powers. “I need to ask you to step aside, sir. You’re interfering with the operation of a vessel.”

  “Just wait,” Powers said. “I represent the Orbital Management Office and it’s within my purview to validate your assertion.”

  “You want to read the contract?” Pip asked, offering the reader to Powers.

  “Hey! No butting in, buddy.” The next civilian in line elbowed Powers out of the way. “I got number sixty and I’m the next to get hired.”

  “One moment, number sixty. If you’d be so kind as to let this official from OMO read the contract you’re about to sign?” I asked.

  “OMO?” He squinted at Powers. “You’re that lawyer guy.”

  “I am, yes,” Powers said and looked very proud of himself when he said it.

  I winced and so did the orbital security guard.

  “All right, smart guy,” Sixty said. “Read it and weep.” He thrust the tablet at Powers and stood back, with his arms folded. “But I’m next and ain’t nothin’ you’re gonna do to stop it.”

  Powers took the tablet and scrolled through the contract once quickly and then flipped it back up, and took a bit longer to read through it. When he got to the bottom he looked at number sixty and then at me. “This is insane. You can’t hire them.”

  “Why not?” Pip asked. “I’m CEO of Phoenix Freight. I’ve offered these people a valid limited-duration contract for labor. Every single person going through that lock has thumbed it.”

  “You’re paying them in sponges,” he said. “That’s preposterous.” He turned to number sixty. “You realize they’re only going to pay you one sponge for an hour of labor?”

  Sixty held up his sponge. “They already did.”

  His neighbors in line waved theirs in support.

  As another group of day workers came out of the ship, Powers grabbed one of them by her wet sleeve. “What did you do in there?” he demanded.

  She pulled her arm free and scowled at him. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m David S. Powers from the Orbit—”

  “You’re that lawyer guy!”

  “Yes, I am, and I demand to know what you were doing in that ship.”

  “Demand in one hand and piss in the other. See which one fills first,” she said and started to walk away.

  Powers’s face, which had been a bit reddened before, took on a whole new hue that bordered more on purple than red. “You can’t talk to me that way. Officer, arrest that woman.”

  “On what charge, Mr. Powers?” he asked.

  Number sixty snickered. “Offering advice without a permit.”

  The woman stopped and whirled on him. “It’s none of your business what I was doing on that ship, but I’ll tell you anyway if it’ll send you on your way. I was cleaning. You want to smell my sponge?” She stalked over and thrust her filthy sponge in Powers’s face.

  He reached to wrestle it out of her hand but she pulled it away and tucked it behind her back.

  “Oh, no. I earned that sponge. Get your own.” She stomped away.

  “Officer?” I asked. “Do you have any cause to believe that I am running an exhibition?”

  The orbital security guy shook his head and looked at Powers. “I can serve this and we can drag him up to the judge’s chambers, but unless you got something other than you think he’s giving tours, I’ve got a contract that says he’s hiring cleaners, a witness that says she’s just done some cleaning, and a long line of people who are going to be really peeved if they don’t get a chance to earn their sponge.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to be standing in the prosecutor’s boots when the judge hears the case.”

  Powers ground his teeth together so hard I could hear them squeak. He scowled at me for several long moments. I thought he might say something, but he never found the handle on his tongue. With a final grunt, he stalked away.

  “Thank you, Officer,” I said.

  He grinned and stuck a thumb in his belt. “Thank you, Captain. You’ve always treated us right. Nice to be able to return the favor. That guy’s a menace to the orbital. Good to see him put in his place.”

  I looked at the man’s face. “Do I know you?”

  He shook his head. “Doubt it. We know you, though. You been flying in and out of Breakall for stanyers. We know all the troublemakers,” he said with a grin. “You’re not one of ’em.” He started to walk away but stopped to wave at the line. I thought he was just waving to be friendly until somebody way down the dock waved back. The guard turned. “My brother. He’s number three eighty-five. Good day, Captain.” He winked and strolled off in Powers’s wake, gathering his squad as he went.

  By 1500 we had gotten through the line of civilians and the whole crew had flaked out on the mess deck. Ms. Sharps had laid on a lunch mess of bread, cold cuts, and soup, which sustained us through the ordeal. A few members of the crew still had sandwiches in their hands.

  “It might have been easier to do it ourselves, Skipper,” Al said.

  She got a rousing groan of agreement from the assembled crew.

  “I couldn’t believe people were coming off and going around to get into line again,” Pip said. “When we got into the three-fifties, I looked down the dock and the line was almost as long as when we started.”

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p; The chief shrugged. “People. This business would be a lot easier without them.”

  I thought about number one and smiled. “Maybe,” I said. While it might have been easier, it certainly wouldn’t have been as worthwhile.

  I stood. “All right, crew. Excellent job. You each have my thanks for stepping up to the task for the day, even if it was a little unorthodox. Next we need to get people assigned to watches, get the brow covered, get the remaining spaces cleaned enough for us to live in them. Ms. Ross, how are we in berthing?”

  “The day workers did a hell of a job, Skipper. All we need is a little polish on the decks and some brass shined and it would pass inspection.” She grinned at the crew who dutifully groaned and hid behind each other and their coffee mugs. “Seriously. Bedding is due by 1600 along with the hygiene supplies we need for the head. Anybody who wants to or needs to can stay aboard tonight.”

  I saw a couple of people perk up at that.

  “If you didn’t bring your duffel with you or need to tie up your port-side affairs, we’ll take a break after we get the bedding in and assigned. You’re all sharing the one berthing area for now; there should be one bunk per person.”

  “A situation I’d like to have remain,” I said.

  Al chuckled. “What I was getting at is that you’ll have to go down and claim a bunk. You’ll have to settle disputes among yourselves. Arm wrestling is acceptable but I’d prefer something more equitable like a random number on your tablets. Fisticuffs will be dealt with in the normal manner. We’ll let you off at the Burleson limit and you can walk home.”

  “That brings up something,” I said. “How many don’t have ship tablets of your own?”

  Most of the junior ratings and one of the spec threes from engineering raised their hands.

  “Anybody that has one of their own that they don’t want to use?”

  A couple more people raised their hands.

  “Mr. Carstairs, would you order us some tablets from the chandlery? Standard crew models. I think we get ten in a box.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Next on the agenda, official Phoenix Freight shipsuits. Tomorrow we’ll swing everybody through the chandlery to get your suits with the Chernyakova shoulder patch along with any ship-tees or boxers. If you have any personal needs, let somebody know.”