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

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Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) Page 49

by Lowell, Nathan


  I raised an eyebrow.

  “April finds the view very stimulating, Captain. I just hope she doesn’t kill Mark before we get to port.”

  “I think Mr. Gerard is a very resourceful man, Ms. Maitland.” I grinned. “I’m sure he’ll rise to the occasion.”

  She groaned at the obviousness of the joke and, with a little wave, disappeared down the ladder.

  She hadn’t been gone three ticks before I heard her shout from below. “No! Leave me alone!” The sound of a slap echoed clearly up the ladder, and I practically jumped down to the lower deck in response.

  Dubois stood there holding Ms. Maloney by the shoulder of her shipsuit, a bright red handprint on the side of his face.

  “That’s enough, Dubois. Return to your compartment. You’ll stay there for the rest of the voyage.”

  He sneered at me. “Yeah? Is that so, Captain?” He spit the word like a curse. “Or what? You gonna make me?” He deliberately reached over with his free hand and grabbed Ms. Maloney by the left breast, staring straight at me.

  Before I could move, her hand flashed, and I heard the crack of a bone as she grabbed his thumb and broke it. He screamed and dropped to his knees on the deck. “You bitch!” he cried, clutching his wrist to hold his hand steady, his thumb flopping awkwardly. “You broke my thumb.”

  She grabbed his hair in both fists and drove her knee at his face, stopping a centimeter from his nose. “Be grateful, asshole. I could have done much worse.”

  His face curled in a snarl. “You can’t treat me like this. You want until I get to port. I’ll sue you within an inch of your life. You’ll never work in this quadrant again.”

  “You, young man, have a lot to learn.” A woman’s voice crackled through his rage, and we turned to see April Gerard clutching a sheet to her chest. “From where I stand—as a disinterested third-party—I saw you assault a crewman engaged in her legitimate duty. When ordered to cease and desist, you not only defied that order, but escalated that assault. The crewman took appropriate action to protect herself, and the ship. She didn’t use excessive force. That’s what I saw.”

  He sneered at her, his anger overwhelming even the pain in his hand. “And who cares what you saw, you silly old cow! You’ve been screwing your brains out for the last week, who’s going to take you seriously.”

  “That would be Judge Silly Old Cow to you, sir. Might I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head, and ask the captain nicely if he’ll allow you to use the autodoc facilities aboard to treat your hand?” She glanced at me with a small nod. “Frankly, I believe he would be within his rights to withhold treatment, but I suspect he won’t.”

  Dubois stared at her, rendered speechless by her response—or shock, perhaps. I suspected some of each.

  She sniffed once, and with a nod to Ms. Maloney, and me, turned and sailed down the passageway, returning to her compartment, and closing the door behind her. I suspected she knew the back of the sheet was open. I admired her confidence.

  I turned to Ms. Maloney, who watched me watching Mrs. Gerard’s departure with a wry grin on her face and an arched eyebrow. I shrugged, and together we looked at Dubois who had fallen to his side, clutching his wrist as if the strangle hold would block the pain.

  Ms. Maloney and I sighed almost in unison. “Come on, Malcolm,” I said. “You’ve been a very bad boy, but the autodoc will have you fixed up in no time.”

  I hooked a hand in his armpit, and helped him to the closet where we kept the medical pod. I helped him onto the pedestal and the diagnostics took over, injecting him, and closing its clamshell around him, locking him in.

  The display correctly identified his broken thumb along with some chemical and hormonal imbalances that I didn’t recognize.

  “Huh.” I turned and saw Ms. Maloney looking at the readouts over my shoulder.

  “You recognize those?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I’m no doctor but I suspect he’s severely borderline and off his meds.” She shrugged and added, “Mother was borderline. I’ve seen those before.”

  The readouts indicated he’d be in the pod overnight so I went back on watch, and Ms. Maloney went back to the galley to fix dinner.

  When Ms. Arellone came up over the ladder to relieve me at 1745 she was shaking her head. “I miss all the good stuff,” she said.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Greenfields Orbital:

  2373-March-6

  When we got to Greenfields, we turned Mr. Dubois over to orbital security for further medical examination. He had come out of the autodoc sedated, and with his hand immobilized. I wouldn’t say he was contrite, but at least he was no longer belligerent. We didn’t file formal charges against him for assault, but did file an incident report, and attached his medical readouts to safe-guard our position in the event of future lawsuits.

  Life aboard proceeded in spite of all the excitement. The day before docking, I secured almost a hundred cubes of high priority pharmaceuticals for a return run to the Confederation authorities on Diurnia, and posted our passenger availability for a return departure leaving Greenfields on March 9th with an arrival of March 24th. One passenger booked within a stan.

  Just before 0900, Ms. Maloney and I saw the Gerards off at the lock.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Judge Gerard said, and graced me with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek. “Other than the unfortunate Mr. Dubois, that was one of the most relaxing voyages we’ve taken in decades.” She looked to Mr. Gerard. “Wasn’t it, dear?”

  He hugged her to him, one arm around her shoulder. “Very,” he said with a smile for her and another for me. He offered his free hand. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  He chuckled, but offered no comment. I thought Judge Gerard elbowed him a bit, but it might merely have been her stepping forward to give Ms. Maloney her good bye hug and cheek kiss.

  “I’m so pleased to see that you’ve landed on your feet, my dear. Your father would be very proud of you, I think.”

  “Thank you, April. And thank you both for coming with us. We’d love to have you back again.”

  Judge Gerard grinned and stepped back to put her arm around her husband’s waist. “Next time we need to go to Diurnia, you’ll be the first choice, believe me.” She winked at me. “You should consider setting up a regular run, Captain. We travel to Diurnia three or four times a year, and several of my fellow judges are called back nearly as often.”

  “Thank you, Judge Gerard. That’s certainly a possibility.”

  “Call me, April, dear,” she said with a wink. “Anybody who’s seen my assets is on a first name basis.”

  “Thank you, April.”

  She smiled up at her husband. “Let’s go, shall we? I’ve got to prepare for that Markham case on Monday, and I really must tell Prissy we’re back.”

  He chuckled and steered her off the ship, sauntering arm-in-arm as they moved across the dock.

  I keyed the lock closed. The ship seemed oddly quiet without them.

  “Congratulations, Captain,” Ms. Maloney said.

  “Thank you, Ms. Maitland. For what?”

  “The successful transportation of your first paying passengers.” A wry half smile curled her mouth to the side of her face. “And for impressing April Gerard.”

  I snorted. “After Dubois, I don’t feel very impressive.”

  “That was unfortunate, but short of confining him to his compartment as soon as started with Stacy, I think you handled it pretty well.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I should have acted more decisively on that one. He was out of control for days, and might have hurt you or Ms. Maloney.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t imagine he’d have bested Ms. Maloney. He couldn’t even stand up to me.”

  I headed for the galley and another round of coffee. “That reminds me, Ms. Maitland. You were rather impressive yourself. They didn’t teach you self-defense at L’Institute des Arts Culinaires, did they?”

 
; “No,” she agreed with a grin. “E and D orientation training. Things sometimes got a bit rough out on the edge. I never needed to use it much before, but it wasn’t my first scuffle, either.” She shrugged.

  “Any you still think you need a bodyguard?” I asked, stopping at the top of the ladder to look at her curiously.

  She paused and thought about it for a few heartbeats. “I guess I never really considered it that carefully before, Captain.” She shrugged, and led the way into the galley and the coffee pot.

  We found Chief Bailey and Mr. Herring there. I could see the hopeful look on Mr. Herring’s face but the chief looked subdued. He had been all but invisible on the ride out. After getting my coffee, and settling in my normal spot, I nodded to Mr. Herring. “Yes, Mr. Herring. Liberty is declared for all crew. Check in once a day so I know you’re alive, be aboard by 1000 on the ninth.”

  He grinned and nodded. “Thank you, Skipper.” He disappeared before I could say, “You’re welcome.”

  I turned to the chief. “Problems, Chief?”

  He glanced my way. “None at all, Cap. Nope. Nary a one. Need to get scrubber filters changed today I think, see if I don’t.” He paused and glanced at me again before asking Ms. Maloney, “Don’t suppose I could get a little shore time this trip, do ya, Ms. Maloney? Been awhile since I stretched my legs.”

  She shrugged. “Of course, Chief.” She looked to me before adding. “Just clear it with the Captain.”

  “Oh, aye, indeed I will. I most certainly will.”

  “If you go ashore, Chief, just make sure your tablet is charged up and turned on. I need to be able to contact you in case of emergency.”

  He nodded. “Aye, Cap. Can do, not a problem at all.” He stood and shambled out of the galley without another word.

  I tilted my head toward Ms. Maloney. “Does he seem off to you, somehow?”

  She frowned, but shrugged. “He gets a little moody at times. I don’t think he really likes being an engineer any more, frankly.” She looked at me across her mug. “Has he gotten any better since the last time we talked?”

  “In all the excitement, I haven’t really paid that much attention, actually.” I was chagrined to admit it but with everything else happening, riding herd on the engineer hadn’t been one of my priorities. “We’ve got a couple of days here until we get underway and nothing much to do except wait to see if we get any passengers, and look for a few more cubes of cargo.” I nodded at the pantry. “How we doing on stores?”

  “We went through a lot of sweets, and I’d like to stock a few bottles of wine for the passengers, if that’s all right, Captain.”

  “Of course. We’re not a military vessel, and as long as watch-standers aren’t showing up drunk on duty, we’re fine.” I grinned at her. “You’re the acting chief steward. Use your best judgment and I’ll back it.”

  She gave me a pleased smile and a nod. “Thanks, Captain. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Maitland. Do you need more budget for the galley?”

  She shook her head. “Not at the moment, Captain. We’re not consuming that much on any voyage, and you stocked us well before we got going.”

  We sat there in silence for a few heartbeats. The klaxon startled us both when it went off, and I dragged myself up to let in the cargo handlers.

  While they worked, I set about looking for the volume adjustment in the klaxon controls. By the time the cargo crew had cleared the hold, I found the adjustment in the schematic, and traced it through to the system controller unit. I managed to reduce the volume from full to eighty percent. A quick test beep proved I’d reduced it from the ear-shattering levels to something noticeable without causing hearing loss.

  While I had my tablet out, I pulled up the punch list that I had given to the chief, and started working backwards through the list. By the time I’d worked through the last dozen items, I was fighting the urge to scream—not one of them had been fixed. By the time I got to the engine room items, I merely simmered. To give the devil his due, he had repaired the items in the passenger compartments, but the dead lighting panel in Mr. Herring’s compartment was still out. By the time I finished the list, it became painfully obvious that the chief had done the bare minimum needed.

  Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone watched me storm into the galley, and I took a couple of deep breaths while I poured a cup of coffee and took in the luncheon spread.

  “The chief has gone to stretch his legs already?” I asked.

  Ms. Maloney shrugged. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Well, it looks like just us then.” I sat at the table and helped myself to the soup and salad while I eyed the pair across from me. “I’m not really in much of a mood to engage in our traditional first night ashore meal. What about you two?”

  Ms. Arellone looked disappointed, but I thought Ms. Maloney looked relieved, and she spoke first. “After that trip, Captain? I’d be happy for a quiet night aboard.” She shot a sideways glance at Ms. Arellone. “But I think somebody at the table needs to go let off a little steam.”

  Ms. Arellone grinned. “Steam? That’s a funny name for it,” she muttered. They shared a chuckle.

  “If you’d like to go ashore tonight, Ms. Arellone? I give my word not to leave the ship and go skulking about the orbital on my own.” I grinned around my soup.

  She shot me one of her exasperated looks. “Skipper, you skulking is a horrifying image. Please, if you must skulk, don’t ever do it when I’m around? It would be just too embarrassing.” She grinned at me. “But if you’re sure it’s okay?” She looked back and forth between the two of us.

  I shrugged. “I’m going to try to sleep, I think.”

  Ms. Maloney said, “I may watch a movie.” She looked at me. “Too bad there’s no Jimmy Chin’s here, I would love some oriental take-out for dinner.”

  Ms. Arellone giggled. “You haven’t finished lunch yet, and you’re thinking about dinner?”

  We both laughed at that, but Ms. Maloney defended herself. “When your whole day revolves around meals, you start looking ahead earlier. Good meals require a lot of planning. Besides, it would be something I didn’t have to cook.” She grinned.

  Ms. Arellone tossed her head in my direction. “The skipper’s a good cook. Make him cook for you tonight.” She got a sly grin. “Sounds kinda romantic. Got the ship to yourself? Get a hunky man to cook you dinner? Slip into something more comfortable?” She giggled as Ms. Maloney colored, and I sighed dramatically.

  “There’ll be no slipping into something more comfortable around here, Ms. Arellone.” I tried to scold her but it came out so oddly we were all chuckling and giggling before I finished.

  Ms. Arellone gave a little shrug when she could regain her composure. “If you say so, Skipper...” She waggled her eyebrows at Ms. Maloney as she finished her soup and stood from the table. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll take you up on that and get in a little r-and-r on my own then.” She slotted her dirty dishes, and headed aft.

  She left us in an awkward silence but the awkwardness passed as first Ms. Maloney, and then I started laughing again.

  “She’s a sketch,” I said. “She’s come a long way since I bailed her out of the brig.”

  “What was she in for, if it’s not rude to ask?”

  “She hasn’t told you?”

  Ms. Maloney shook her head. “She’s mentioned being in the brig, but the discussion usually devolves to her swearing and ranting about the paternalistic society and the stupid men involved in it.” She shrugged. “Many of her previous captains feature prominently.”

  “As far as I was able to tell, she got into a fight on the docks, got arrested, and had no crew to claim her. She sat in the brig for a few months until your father had the bright idea to tell me that if I allowed one of the crew leave the Agamemnon, then I’d be stuck with her.”

  “Could he do that?”

  I shrugged. “Probably not. She was the next person on the waiting list for crew assignment. I visited he
r in the brig, and thought she’d be a good fit.” I smiled. “It was a set up, according to Kirsten Kingsley.”

  “A set up?”

  “Yeah. He wanted her off half-pay, and couldn’t find a captain who’d take her. All he had to do was tell me I couldn’t let Ricks go, or he’d make me take her.”

  She laughed softly. “That sounds like Father. It probably never occurred to him to just ask you.”

  I shrugged. “It worked out. I got a good crewman. He got a half-pay spacer off the beach.”

  I turned at the sound of footsteps in the passage outside, and Ms. Arellone stuck her head into the galley. “I’m heading out now, if you’re still sure you don’t need me.”

  “Enjoy yourself, Ms. Arellone.”

  She grinned. “Okay, Skipper.” She gave us a jaunty wave and disappeared. “You kids have fun,” echoed up from the ladder.

  I looked across the table. “I’m not sure I didn’t like her better when she was broody and sullen.”

  Ms. Maloney chuckled into her coffee. “Something here agrees with her, Captain. She seems very happy.”

  I shrugged. “She does.” I paused and looked across the table at her. “How about you, Ms. Maloney? I know I keep asking but you’re a new quarter share. The commitment to the Deep Dark got thrown at you. It wasn’t something you decided to do on your own.”

  She shrugged. “True, but like I said before. I’ve always wanted to open a restaurant and just never had the right incentives.” She looked around at the galley. “This is like a little restaurant, and I have a captive customer base. It’s still a challenge to come up with menus that people like.”

  I smiled. “When I first signed onto the Lois McKendrick, my boss used to say something like that. He thought that since the crew didn’t have a choice about where to eat, we owed it to them to make our little restaurant the place they still wanted to eat at.”

  She nodded. “Exactly! And it’s so peaceful out there.” She paused and shrugged. “Mostly. Dubois made things a little tense, but even at that.”

  “You handled him well.”

  “You’re on about the bodyguard thing again, Captain?”

 

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