by Dan Thompson
“Yep, and then she’s headed groundside to see her grandkids in the morning. You’re not due back for two days.”
“Good. See you around.”
Hector pressed play. The preamble began to scroll on the screen: On the frontiers of Sharook, a man’s fortune was as much his own making as ...
“Mr. Reyes?” It was Richard, sticking his head in from the corridor.
Hector pressed pause. “Yes?”
“I’m about to head onto the station, so you’re the last on board. Do you have the situation in hand?”
Hector pointed to his tablet with the entertainment remote. “Everything’s slaved to my portable, so I’ll know if anything comes up. Just close the lock after you go.”
“Of course, and Ms. Ward has the night watch, correct?”
“Yeah, I already checked in with her. She said she’d be back by eighteen hundred.”
“Very well,” Richard replied. “I officially hand the port watch to you, Mr. Reyes.”
He nodded. “And I officially receive it. I’ll see you ... well, whenever we’re both back on board.”
Richard left, and Hector waited to see the airlock seal light go green on his tablet. Certain that any interruptions were now off the ship, he backed up the film to the beginning. Grinning, he read the preamble aloud in an overly dramatic style. “On the frontiers of Sharook, a man’s fortune ...”
Michael woke to find Lena’s arm draped across him and her nude body snug against his side. His first thought was it was an incredibly nice feeling to wake up to. His second and third thoughts were pretty much the same. Eventually, though, he found himself thinking about Josie back on Taschin, and that made him feel awkward.
He had not cheated on her. That was clear. There had been no expectation of fidelity. They had not spoken of it explicitly, but Michael knew very well that Josie was a prostitute and any notion of fidelity on her part would promptly lead to poverty. As for him, spacers were rarely monogamous, not unless they brought a spouse on board, or in some cases found one on board. Malcolm had never talked about his various liaisons, but there was almost always one night at each port when he shaved with an old straight razor, put on his best uniform, and disappeared until noon the next day.
From the protective vibe Michael had gotten from both Captain Bradley and the matronly Suzie Carson, he figured that Lena was not getting out as often as Malcolm had, but then again, neither had he. Back on the Heinrich, he had had something of a girlfriend, or at least a fairly reliable bed-buddy, but even Karen had regularly abandoned him in port to seek out “special friends” on other ships.
In that light, he supposed he may have just become one of Lena’s special friends. At least, he liked to think he had. The sex had not been nearly as adventurous or athletic as it had been with Josie, but it had been very nice. As unsexy as it sounded, he had found it comforting more than anything else.
Lena stirred beside him. He held still, uncertain whether or not he wanted to wake her, but she decided on her own. Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze only briefly before burying her face in his chest.
“What time is it?” Her breath tickled his skin.
He glanced over at the clock. “Eight seventeen, station time.”
She sighed. “I suppose it’s time to get up,” she said and rolled onto her back. She pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. “I imagine the shipping office is already open or will be soon.”
“Probably. Should we order room service?”
“No, I’d rather get a bite on the way,” she replied and sat up, still clutching the sheet to her chest. “But first I think we both need a shower.”
He looked at her bare back and reached out to it. She did not flinch at his touch, but as he traced his fingers along her spine she wiggled.
“It tickles,” she said.
“Is that bad?”
She shook her head. “Still, it’s morning, and we have things to do.” She looked back at him. “Do you want the first shower?”
He shrugged. “I guess, or maybe we should shower together. It could be quicker.”
She gave him a sly grin. “Quicker?”
A grin crept across his lips as well. “Ok, maybe not quicker, but I could wash your back. You know, get all the spots you can’t reach.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “I never really thought …” She trailed off for a moment and then opened her eyes. “Yes, that would be lovely, but let’s keep this professional?”
Michael laughed. “Professional?”
She giggled back at him. “Okay, not professional, but let’s be quick about it. I want to get this application thing over and done with.”
He nodded. “So, down to business then.”
“No, it’s not that,” she said and looked away. “If we put it off, I’ll be thinking about it all day, and I don’t want to be distracted. Once it’s done, we can relax.”
He smiled at the thought of that. “We?”
She looked back at him. “Yes, that is, if you want. I don’t know if you have captain things to do.”
He shook his head. “I confess that when I saw the Hamilton James in port I handed all of that off to my first officer. I guess I had been hoping to be too busy for cargo and such. Or did I presume too much?”
“Not really,” she replied, rolling her shoulders slowly in a stretch. “That’s why I was already at the bar yesterday. I had gone to the Ludwig on the off-chance I might find you, and then I headed up to the Hopping Hole to see if any of the crew there had news of you.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “There are a lot of S&W ships, but I thought … well, you never know.”
He let that sink in for a moment. She had been looking for him. He had not been expecting that.
“So, shower?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said and swung his legs off the bed. “Whose back first, yours or mine?”
She slid off the bed and made for the bathroom, her bare backside swaying hypnotically. “Well, since we’re trying to be quick about it, why not both at the same time?”
He bolted from the bed to catch up with her. That much of quick, at least, he understood.
Stefan Carrillo sipped at his coffee and fidgeted in his seat. He had a good view of the Fat Grizzly’s dock through the window, but this was not how he had hoped the meeting would go. The woman coming across the dock was not his employer, not unless she had managed to shave a dozen centimeters off her impressive height.
She came into the café, walked up to the barista, and ordered a mocha to go. She paid, collected it, and came over to the condiments station next to Stefan’s table. She put pump of vanilla in and resealed the lid. “Carrillo,” she said without looking.
He nodded, but she did not turn.
“The Lady is waiting for you on board. You may accompany me or go alone.”
She turned to leave, and he stood.
She looked at him properly for the first time. “First Officer Davies,” she said and held out her hand.
He shook it and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”
The walk across the dock took longer than he expected, and all the while he was trying to scan for familiar faces without putting his head on a constant swivel.
“Is everything going well?” she asked.
He grunted.
“Do you talk much?”
He scowled. “Not much to say out here.”
They crossed the rest of the dock without another word, and with only a nod to the crewman by the docking tube they headed down the tube to the Grizzly. The airlock inside was manned by an armed guard who saluted as Davies passed. They went down a ladder to the lower deck, took two turns, and stopped at a cabin door.
Davies paused before opening it. “I will be available to escort you back out when you finish.”
His employer waited inside. “Stefan,” she said, rising from a desk chair to greet him.
“Umm, Patrice …” he said, taking her hand.
/> The door closed behind him, and she motioned him to a small fold-out seat. The cabin was rather small, not even as large as the one he had on the Sophie’s Grace. He arranged the seat and faced her in her own chair.
“Is your cover still solid?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“And the boy trusts you?”
“Yeah. He’s a decent kid, actually. Green and gullible, but decent.”
“Well, don’t let his apparent innocence fool you. Put his back against the wall, and he’s old Malcolm through and through.”
“I think I can handle him.” He looked around at the cabin again, clearly meant for a single occupant. “So, where’s the rest of the team?”
“They’re already on station,” she said and held a piece of paper out to him. “Tonight, twenty-one hundred at Cally’s Thunderbar.”
He looked at the paper. It was a set of navigation coordinates. “What’s this?”
“Your destination. It’s a small transfer station about seven light-years from here. Once you have control of the ship, meet me there.”
He tucked it into his jacket pocket. “And my team, they can get us there?”
She nodded. “Two engineers and a navigator, all with reasonable wet-work experience. The other navigator is a little green, but from what I hear he’s a vicious little shit.”
“Well, as long as they follow orders, that should be enough. They have weapons?”
“Yes, in shielded luggage, so unless the kid is doing anything special, they’ll pass any standard scan. Do you know how you intend to do it?”
He nodded. “I’ll want to go over with your guys, but yeah, I pretty much know how I want it to go. You still want the boy alive?”
“If possible,” she replied. “I have certain business matters to settle with him.”
“And the crew?”
She shrugged. “That’s for you and your team to decide. Skilled labor is always welcome on the slave worlds, and that bonus will go directly to you and your team.”
He grinned at that. It had been years since he had sold someone into slavery, and from what he knew, the prices had only been going up, especially for young women like their little Winner. The colonies that took on most of the slave labor could not always afford to use the artificial wombs favored by the wealthier worlds, and a woman of breeding age would fetch a premium price. He almost said something to that effect but knew better. As cruel as she was, he did not think the Winged Lady would appreciate the remark.
“But one more thing,” she added. “No matter what, do not let that ship get to Arvin. That comes explicitly from above. Kill the boy if it comes to it, but that ship is not to arrive at Arvin. Do you understand?”
“I got it.”
Chapter 19
“Don’t tell me it’s going to be a good surprise. Only leprechauns and unicorns deliver good surprises.” – Malcolm Fletcher
MICHAEL AND LENA made it to the S&W shipping office a little before ten. Their shower had not been as quick as either intended, but they were certainly clean. She had changed back into a set of the Hamilton’s ship utilities, while Michael had put his dress uniform back on. Unlike Josie who had scattered it around the room back on Taschin, Lena had insisted on hanging it up properly the night before.
The front of the office was very small, with only one clerk sitting behind a raised counter. “Picking up or shipping out?” he asked.
Michael stepped up to the counter and looked at the man staring intently at the screen before him. “Actually, we’re here about employment.”
The man paused in his typing, looked at them, and sighed. “Okay, let me get Kelly.” He walked to the rear door, cracked it open, and shouted, “Hey, Kelly, we’ve got a couple of job hunters.”
When he returned to his desk, Michael held up his finger. “Actually, I’m only—”
The man held up his own hand to stop him. “Kelly will take care of you,” he said, and pointed to the screen. “I’m coordinating the final cargo load for the Ludwig right now.”
A woman opened the rear door and beckoned them forward, so they skirted around the counter and back into the rear office. Four desks clustered together, though only three of them were occupied. Kelly led them past them and into her own little cavelike office. The name on the door was Kelly Forrester. She sat behind her desk and motioned them toward the chairs on the opposite side. “Joey said you were here for employment.”
“Yes,” Michael replied, taking the far seat and leaving the center one for Lena. “I’m Michael Fletcher.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, Captain Fletcher—it is Captain, correct?”
“Yes,” he replied. At least some people were taking the uniform at face value instead of automatically treating him like a kid playing dress-up. “Of the Sophie’s Grace.”
“Yes, well, Captain Fletcher, Schneider & Williams has a policy of promoting from within, especially to the role of captain. We don’t fill those positions from the outside. Even if we wanted you, you would have to come in no higher than a section head and then …”
Michael raised his hands to slow her down. “I’m not actually the one applying for a job, Miss Forrester,” he said and gestured toward Lena. “I merely wanted to throw my recommendation behind Miss Marcellus here.”
Kelly looked to Lena. “Is it Lena Marcellus?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your profile was in my inbox this morning, along with a recommendation from a Captain … Hamilton?”
“Captain Bradley,” she corrected, “of the Hamilton James.”
“Yes, well, he certainly sang your praises. However, the only ship we have in dock at the moment is the Lucky Ludwig, and she has no current openings. Our next ship will not likely pass through for another two weeks, and she has no openings either. However, I will put your profile into our system, and I encourage you to check in with our other local offices in your future travels.”
Michael saw Lena’s shoulders start to sag, and he shook his head. This was hardly the every reasonable courtesy he had been hoping would be forwarded. “Excuse me, Miss Forrester, but I …”
Kelly turned back to Michael. “Yes, I don’t have your recommendation here in the file, but if you mail it to me, I’ll be sure to add it.”
“No, Miss Forrester. You see …” He sighed. “I used to serve on the Heavy Heinrich. If you check your records, you’ll see.”
She started typing on her keyboard. “Recently?”
“Yes, last year. I was hoping that might count for something here.”
She continued typing and scanning her screen. “Well, we frequently make … excuse me, Captain, but are you Michael William Fletcher?”
“Yes,” he replied. To be honest, he was surprised the records actually listed him as Fletcher instead of Schneider. Perhaps he had made more of a point with his uncle than he had realized.
Kelly read down her screen and shifted in her seat to sit up straight. “Then you’re … oh,” she said and then looked directly at him again. “I apologize, Captain Fletcher. I did not recognize your name at first, and yes, your past service definitely does carry some weight here.” She turned back to her computer. “Let me see what we can do for you, Miss Marcellus.”
Lena shot Michael a look of disbelief. Michael did his best to shrug it off as trivial, but even he was amazed by the turnaround. He wondered precisely what his uncle had put in that letter he sent out to the various offices.
“All right, I have two possible matches in the fleet,” Kelly said, peering at her screen. “There’s a mechanic position open on the Windy Wilhelm and an environmental position on the Sailing Siegfried, but …” she tapped a few keys, “neither of them will pass through here for another four months.”
Michael had a brief moment of panic. His former bed-buddy Karen Larkin headed up the environmental section on the Siegfried. It was hardly enough for him to try to block it, but the idea of Lena and Karen spending that much time together was more
than a little frightening.
“Four months,” Lena said, shaking head. “That’s a long time to be beached.”
Kelly nodded. “And a long time for those positions to stay open, especially in our fleet. Um … where are you headed next?”
“Tsaigo, Pinot’s Hammer, and I think Latera after that.”
Kelly peered at her screen. “Do you think you can make Latera by the twentieth of next month?”
She nodded. “I think so. It might be a little tight, but if I ask, Captain Bradley will hurry us along.”
“Then you should be able to catch the Wilhelm.” She typed a few commands into her computer. “I’m marking that position as filled by transfer. That’s no guarantee, of course, because Captain Feldman will have final say, but with Captain Fletcher’s recommendation in your profile, I can’t imagine her saying no.”
Lena broke into a smile and turned to Michael.
He nodded. “That sounds great. I’ll get that recommendation to you this afternoon.”
Kelly shook her head. “No need, sir. I’ll take care of it, and I’ll be sure to make sure Captain Feldman knows that this is your request.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
She waved it away. “No, it’s nothing, Captain Fletcher. Do you remember a Zane Forrester?”
He nodded. “Back on the Heinrich, yeah. He worked right next to me in engineering.”
“He’s my husband’s uncle, or cousin. I can never keep track. They were through here last month.”
“Yeah, and he’s got a girl groundside?”
She nodded. “We all went down together this time and made a nice holiday of it.” She grinned. “Downhill skiing in the Serels.”
“Well, thank you again.”
“My pleasure, but if you’ll excuse me, Captain, Miss Marcellus, I need to get out there and help with getting those Lucky Lugnuts on their way.”
Michael walked out with Lena on his arm, feeling at least three meters tall.
“Holy smokes,” Lena said. “I figured you had a little sway the way the Ludwig crew treated you, but who the heck are you? I mean, when we met, you were just a lowly runner.”
