Double Share: Solar Clipper Trader Tales

by Nathan Lowell

  “What about the mess deck cleanup party?” Mel asked. “How does that fit your theory?”

  “I think it’s a simple affiliation thing. They want to belong. Until now, there wasn’t really anything to belong to. The captain doesn’t even belong. That sends a huge message. As far as I can tell, the only communication he has with the crew is through disciplinary actions.”

  “And they’re all coming together now because we have a wonder boy third mate?” Mel asked with a grin, which took the sting out of what might have been a full hand slap. “What are we? Chopped liver?”

  “I’m not saying that. You’ve had some luck with your crew. Just judging from the engineering spaces, which are head and shoulders above the regular deck areas. I’m not hearing about rampant abuse in the engineering department.”

  “Mosler,” Fredi said. “He’s a bad egg.”

  Mel sighed. “Yes, Mosler. I’ve tried to get rid of him more than once. Burnside always overrides me with the captain.”

  “Mosler and Apones, Apones and Mosler. How have those two managed to stay employed here?”

  “They’re David’s stooges,” Fredi said frankly. Mel frowned at her but Fredi turned to her friend. “No, Mel, you have to admit it. David uses them to find female crew members that he can use and abuse. They get his cast offs and his protection. There’s nothing we can prove, but you and I both know that’s going on.”

  Mel sighed. “Yes, probably.”

  “Not probably. Remember that SA? Three trips ago? We were inbound from Dree? Alice something?”

  “Oh…” Mel looked at the tablecloth as if trying to read the name there. “Stewart, Alice Stewart.”

  “Yes. Thank you. That would have kept me awake trying to remember,” Fredi said with a smile. “Remember her? She actually recorded her own rape!”

  Mel sighed. “Yeah, brave girl.”

  Fredi turned to look at me. “She saved the recordings and took them to the authorities when we got to port. Bypassed the first mate. Bypassed the captain. Straight to orbital security. For all the good it did.”

  “What happened?” I asked, although I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “She recanted after we’d been docked for two days. Refused to press charges,” Fredi said. “Captain released her from her contract and left her there when we shipped out.”

  “Why did she do that? I’d have thought she wanted to nail them.”

  Mel spoke up then. “Dunno, Ishmael. Mighta had something to do with falling down the bridge ladder and breaking her arm.”

  “They broke her arm?!” I was aghast. I couldn’t believe it.

  Fredi shrugged. “Mosler and Apones were ashore at the time. Couldn’t have been them.”

  A suspicion sprouted in the back of my mind. “Lemme guess. David was OOD?”

  Mel nodded and said, “On her way back from medical on the orbital, she stopped at security and withdrew her complaint. The next day she was gone.”

  Fredi finished her coffee and put the empty down on the table—hard enough to bang. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I think I’ll go to my stateroom for a while,” she said softly. She rose and left.

  I looked at Mel who stared after her friend with a troubled look on her face.

  Outside in the passage I heard the party starting up on the mess deck. Mel heard it too and turned to me. “Well, I suppose I should go help,” I said.

  Mel shook her head. “This is their party. Visit tomorrow and admire, but tonight leave them alone.”

  She stared into my face for a few heartbeats.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  “You can’t turn them into a crew. It’s something they’ll have to do for themselves. All we can do is provide some protection while they work on it.”

  I sighed, figuring what that protection might cost me, and what it might gain.

  “You’ll earn no brownie points with the captain,” she pointed out.

  “I’m mostly just worried about surviving,” I admitted. “I’m counting on self-interest and cowardice to prevent outright murder.”

  “What if they make a mistake and do it anyway?”

  “That’s the part that scares me,” I admitted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  DIURNIA SYSTEM

  2358-JULY-19

  Underway watches sound like they should be easy. And they are, taken a few at a time, but when they go day after day, week after week, they get a little numbing. The routine takes some getting used to, and I was out of practice. When my tablet bipped me awake at 05:00, I was disoriented. It was dark, except for the light my tablet gave off, and I had a pain in my lower ribs.

  “Oh yeah, watch,” I grumbled to myself. At least I didn’t have to worry about falling on the deck from an upper bunk or scraping my knee from a lower. It was almost civilized to sit up in a normal height bunk and place my feet on the floor. Of course, when I stood, I banged my knee on the visitor’s chair, and when I recoiled from that, I managed to bash my hip on the corner of the pull down desk, which I’d neglected to stow.

  Still, having a twelve stan period off watch had let me get a good meal and gave my stomach a chance to recover. I went into the head and checked for bruises in the mirror. Nothing showed, but the lower rib was still pretty tender. Sighing, I got into the shower and let the water sluice the sleepy slime away. I was looking at six on, six off, six on, and then Burnside would relieve me. I hoped I wouldn’t be as easy a mark again.

  It only took a tick or two to dry off, skinny into a fresh shipsuit, and head for the mess deck. I was anxious to see what they’d done. I noticed the changes well before I got that far. The ladder rails gleamed and the passageways from crew quarters all the way to the mess deck had been freshly cleaned and the metal work polished. The deck had a few worn spots, and the paint looked scuffed in places, but all in all, Billy looked as good as I’d ever seen. It felt good just walking along and not grinding grit under the soles of my ship boots.

  The mess deck was pristine. Every table and chair shined. Every surface and every bit of metal gleamed in the subdued nighttime lighting cycle. I could still smell the tang of cleanser and polish in the air. I went to the big coffee urns and admired the effort that had gone into burnishing every bit of filigree and angle of stainless steel on the counter. I pulled a fresh cup and stuck my head into the galley where the chief was working with the two messmates.

  “My congratulations, Mr. Vorhees. Looks like things went well last night. The mess deck looks amazing.”

  Penny and Karen smiled and blushed as the chief answered, “These two organized it all. It was a wonder to behold. I bet we had a dozen people helping out, sar.”

  He picked up a side towel and carried it with him, wiping the flour from his hands as he stepped out into the mess deck to talk. “We had a little bit of a problem,” he said softly once he was clear of the galley. “Nothing serious—just the normal troublemakers trying to disrupt. It didn’t get beyond some catcalling and the odd soggy sponge, sar. But I thought you’d like to know.”

  “Thanks, John. On balance, was it worth the effort?” I asked.

  He eyed the mess deck scanning around from table to table and across the coffee urns and steam tables. “Yes, sar. Yes, it was. I don’t think I’ve seen the place look this good in the stanyer and a half I’ve been aboard.” He looked at me and nodded. “I’ll tell ya something else, sar. They”—he nodded back toward the galley—“and their friends did darn well with the hazing and such. I don’t think it took us more than a stan to pull it all together. The biggest problem was not enough cleaning gear to go around. We had engineering, deck, and steward division people all pulling together.”

  “The operative phrase there being ‘pulling together’ I take it?”

  “Yes, sar. I’ve been around a lot of ships. This is the only one that’s scared me, but I’m beginnin’ to think it’s gonna be okay, sar.” He looked a little abashed and I realized that this spec one was probab
ly old enough to be my father. “Pardon my sayin’ so, sar.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, John,” I told him. “Keep an eye on it, but I think we may be turning a corner.”

  “Aye, sar,” he said with a smile, “and thanks again.”

  I toasted him with my coffee mug and headed up to the bridge.

  Betts had the helm and Ulla Nart was curled up at the auxiliary console reading something on her tablet. Arletta gave me a warm smile as I clambered up the ladder.

  “How was it?” I asked.

  “It was a blast.”

  “Any problems?”

  “Nothing outrageous. Quiet night after the party in the mess deck wound down. For a while I thought we might have to send for the shore patrol.”

  I looked at her hard to see if she was kidding me. She was and snickered a little.

  “I slipped in around 21:30 on my way to work out,” she said. “Apones and Mosler were standing in the passageway outside the mess deck doing their best to sneer at anybody who came by.” She grinned. “Do you know how hard it is to sneer at somebody that’s ignoring you?”

  I chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

  “Is it still looking good down there?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I stopped by to congratulate Mr. Vorhees and his crew on a job well done. I was hoping I wouldn’t find it trashed.”

  “Ulla made a few passes through, but I suggested she study up here with us instead of down there alone in the dark.”

  Ms. Jaxton climbed up onto the bridge at that point, putting an end to the conversation, and we all proceeded to get the watch changed over.

  When we had the bridge to ourselves she asked me, “Are you okay, sar?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you for asking, Ms. Jaxton. I had dinner in the wardroom, then called it an early night and got a good night’s sleep.” I paused to kick the system backups on and then asked, “So, did you have fun at the party last night?”

  She grinned a little and a yawn took her. “Sorry, sar,” she said, covering her mouth, “but, yes. We got almost everybody who wasn’t on watch to help. We had people working in the passageways, scraping off the tables, and polishing the metalwork. They piped in music and we were dancing in the aisles. It really was a party. I don’t remember ever having that much fun with this group.”

  “Where’s Ms. D’Heng this morning?” I asked.

  “Oh, she’s gonna eat before she relieves me, sar. More efficient,” she said.

  I nodded and finished my watch checklists as Ms. Cramer brought up my breakfast tray. “Thank you, Ms. Cramer,” I told her with a smile.

  She blushed, nodded, and then scampered off the bridge.

  Ms. Jaxton snickered but I pretended not to hear as I settled into my breakfast. It was good and the portions were a bit larger than normal. Before I’d finished, Charlotte clambered up to relieve Juliett.

  After Juliett went down for breakfast, Charlotte turned to me with big eyes and asked, “So what do you think of the mess deck, sar?”

  “It’s amazing! Really,” I assured her as I finished off my toast, washing it down with coffee.

  “We had such fun,” she gushed.

  She proceeded to give me a very complete recap of the evening’s festivities and I wasn’t really listening to it all, I confess, until she got to the part where she said, “…and so I expect we’ll have a few more people join us on the bridge to study.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. D’Heng?” I interrupted.

  “Yes, sar?”

  “Join us on the bridge to study?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes, sar. We all got to talking last night about trying to make ratings and finding time to study and all. Juliett and I mentioned what a great help you were. So a few more people will probably come up…” her voice tapered off. “That’s not really a good idea, is it, sar?”

  “No, Ms. D’Heng, it’s not. Part of the reason that you cleaned up the mess deck was so you’d be able to sit down there when you’re not on watch.”

  “Yes, but you’re up here, sar.”

  “And what has any of this to do with me, Ms. D’Heng?” I asked—almost afraid of the answer.

  “Well, you’re the training officer, sar. And you have a way of explaining things that really helps,” she said, playing the flattery card without any self-consciousness or hesitation.

  I thought about it for a while and then sighed. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, but we can’t have a lot of extra people here on the bridge. It’s a working space, not a study hall.”

  She looked disappointed.

  So I relented.

  “If you have people meet in the mess deck, I’ll come down and answer questions for a stan or so in the afternoons when we’re not on watch. How’s that?”

  The expression on her face said “knight in shining armor,” but my gut was saying, “Don’t get me hit again.”

  “Besides,” I pointed out, “with enough people studying in the same place, you can get help from each other.”

  This was apparently not an idea she’d actually had before and I saw her working with it in her head. She eventually shrugged and that seemed to be that.

  Ms. Jaxton returned from breakfast with three fresh coffees, and we settled in for another watch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DIURNIA SYSTEM

  2358-JULY-19

  When Burnside came to relieve the watch at midnight, he was coming off his twenty-four. He hadn’t been on watch since Arletta had relieved him the previous night. I eyed him warily as he climbed the ladder to the bridge and he actually had the nerve to smile at my wariness.

  “Come, come, Mr. Wang,” he said. “Discipline administered and over. Lessons learned need no repetition, right?”

  I forced myself not to glare at him as he approached to take the watch. He’d have to work much harder to get in striking range. He wouldn’t be taking me unaware again.

  “Ship is on course and on target,” I told him, standing up from the watch stander’s chair. “No incidents or actions. Standing orders are unchanged. You may relieve the watch, Mr. Burnside.”

  He flopped bonelessly into the console’s chair. “Yeah, fine, whatever. You really need to loosen up a little, Ishmael. With all the hunnies you’ve got hangin’ around, I’m surprised you haven’t started a rotation for your stateroom.”

  Ms. Jaxton was just leaving the bridge, and I saw her color rise. I just shrugged. “I don’t screw with crew,” I told him and walked across the bridge to the ladder.

  “That’s a shame,” he shouted so that I heard him as I descended the ladder. “That D’Heng is one hot little hoochie.” I was glad that Juliett was ahead of me on the ladder, and I could keep her moving downward.

  Her face and neck, already red, went to scarlet as her temper rose. She turned to start back up the ladder, but I had my hands on both rails. She would need to go through me.

  “Words, Juliett, just words. Hateful, ignorant, and spiteful though they may be. Just words,” I told her.

  “He can’t say that stuff!”

  “He can and he did, but we don’t need to sink to his level. He’s trying to goad me into fighting, so he has an excuse to haul me up on charges. If he can’t get me, he’d be happy to have you.”

  “He’s—” she started to say.

  “He’s the first mate,” I said calmly. “It behooves us to remember that and treat the office with respect.”

  She looked at me as if I’d stabbed her.

  “I know,” I told her. “But I’m not that kind of person, and I don’t think you are, either.”

  She stared at me for another few heartbeats and the tension slumped out of her.

  “This isn’t fair, sar.”

  “Fair is a weak term. There’s a better construct for this situation, I think.”

  I waited for her to bite.

  Finally she asked, “Which is?”

  I continued down the ladder, forcing her to step off the bottom step. She turned and frowned at me.

>   “On my old ship, the Lois McKendrick, we had a saying. ‘Trust Lois.’”

  “Sar, you did pass your psych eval, right?”

  “Barely,” I admitted. “They were concerned that I might be too sane to be an officer at first, but I convinced them I was psychotic enough.”

  “But trust the ship?” she asked.

  “Well, not exactly, the ship,” I said. See, everybody on the Lois had a kind of belief in the ship’s spirit, its pooka. So we believed in the spirit of the ship, which taken as an abstract is like saying you believe in fairies, I realize. In reality, we believed in each other. We always knew that somebody on the ship would have whatever would be needed to take care of whatever problem we faced, and that when the time came, that person would do whatever was needed.”

  “The pooka?” She had an incredulous look on her face, like she’d just heard the most fantastical story ever and wanted it to be real, “Wasn’t that risky, sar?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe, but the key element was that while we all trusted Lois, we kept in mind that when the time came, we each needed to do our part. And often, that meant getting off your butt and making something happen.”

  “Like cleaning the mess deck?” she asked.

  “Precisely,” I agreed. “I changed algae matrices in the environmental section in my off watches and helped make sludge cakes.”

  “Eeeww. Wasn’t that nasty?”

  “Not really. Smelly at times, sure, but it needed doing…besides with the right company, even dirty work—like cleaning the mess deck—can be fun.”

  “You’re not saying ‘Trust Billy’ are you, sar?”

  That stopped me cold. Could I trust Billy?

  She saw the indecision in my eyes, and I had to be honest. “I don’t know, Juliett. My training and experience says yes, but given what I know about what’s happening on this ship, I have to confess, the idea never entered my mind until you just suggested it.”