“Do you know where the nearest yard is?” Zoya asked.
“We just came from one.”
“What? Pulaski?” Zoya asked, her mouth dropping open.
“That or the refit station at Bowie.”
Zoya settled back on her heels, ideas behind her forehead percolating almost visibly.
“What?” Natalya asked. “Something’s hatching in there.”
“I know where there may be one closer, if they’ll let us use it.”
Natalya felt her own jaw sag before she snapped it shut. “You think they would?”
Zoya shrugged. “Depends on how much we’ve helped them with this gang. There’s a lot more going on than extorting stations if there are nukes involved. It may be enough to get us in the door.” Zoya shook her head. “We’ve got more immediate tasks ahead of us.”
“Like getting the station up and running?” Natalya asked.
“I was thinking more along the lines of getting our ratings so we can actually fly the damn thing in the High Line.”
Natalya sagged against the bulkhead. “Hadn’t thought about that.”
They stood there in silence for a few heartbeats.
“What do you want, Nats?” Zoya asked. “If I can’t dodge this job, what will you do?”
“Madigan was talking about maybe signing on a barge as engineer.”
Zoya’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve talked about it with Madigan?”
“He brought it up.”
“Did you come to any decisions?”
“I really wouldn’t be happy zooming around in a mining barge.”
Zoya let out a big breath in one solid whew.
“What?” Natalya asked. “You thought I might do it?”
Zoya shrugged. “I agree with you. I don’t think you’d be happy on a mining barge. You didn’t answer the question. What do you want?”
“I thought I wanted the Peregrine and freedom to seek my fortune in the Deep Dark.”
“Well, you got that,” Zoya said. “What’s the problem?”
“I think that’s the problem. I got it. Now that I’m here, it’s not exactly what I thought it would be,” Natalya said. “If it weren’t for Dorion and the High Tortuga Holding Company, we’d still be bumping along at subsistence level jobs.”
Zoya chuckled. “Maybe an exaggeration.”
“Not by much,” Natalya said. “You said it yourself not very long ago. Peregrine is an antique. It was built for a different job. A different time.”
“You regretting not letting Panko build you a new ship?” Zoya asked.
“No,” Natalya said, hearing the surprise in her own voice. “I regret not having my tickets in order so I can get a job on a Barbell or a tanker or one of the mixed container freighters. There’s only so much one person can do alone. Even with a wingman.” She grinned at Zoya.
“You never mentioned it before.”
Natalya nodded. “I think it only began to be an idea when we couldn’t take the exams back in Margary.”
Zoya nodded. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I think that’s when it came to me, too. I just wanted to see if we were both still on the same course.”
Chapter 50
Smelter Seventeen:
2368, March 25
Natalya stood at the lock controls on the Mindanao. Madigan leaned against the bulkhead. His quiet presence kept her from crawling out of her skin. Zoya, as always, held down the emergency bridge, making sure the ship stayed on station.
The camera on the outside of the hull showed the familiar shape of an Unwin Eight sliding silently into the docking ring. The only sound, besides the quiet whoosh of the blowers, was the hammering in Natalya’s ears. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the two locks caught and mated with a subdued ka-thunk.
Natalya waited for the pressure to match before keying the inner door open.
The old man standing in the lock took her off-guard. His hair should have been black. There should have been more of it. His face showed a map of his life, filled with valleys and sorrow. She reminded herself to breathe as his eyes found hers. He swallowed hard.
“Hey, Natty.”
She didn’t remember crossing the deck but found herself suddenly wrapped in the arms that always meant safety. Meant strength. He smelled of musk and oil, of hydraulic fluid and coffee. He smelled like home. She cried and laughed and cried some more. She fussed over the wet spots on his shipsuit so she could pretend she hadn’t noticed him crying as well.
Eventually she remembered herself and pulled back, casting a glance back, but Madigan had gone.
“Hi, Dad,” she said. “Sorry about the waterworks.”
He shook his head and pulled a familiar rag from his pocket, using it to blow his own nose and wipe his face. “What kind of mess have you made this time, Natty?”
He always asked that. Natalya had forgotten. It didn’t matter if she’d just torn apart the galley’s cooker or finished doing the dishes in their tiny apartment on the orbital. The same question. “What kind of mess have you made this time, Natty?”
And he always sounded proud of her for having made it.
Natalya took a deep breath and stepped out of the lock. “Where are my manners? Do you have crew? We don’t have much by way of liberty but they’re welcome aboard.”
He shook his head. “My engineer. He’s happiest in the engine room.”
Natalya laughed. “Odd to think of you having an engineer.”
“I suppose it is. I drive more these days. When we get out. I’m trying to build a place up from scratch. Takes a lot of time.”
“I heard that. How’s it coming?”
He shrugged. “Slow, but it’s coming.”
Zoya said, “Nice to see you again, Demetri.” She came forward from the corridor.
He held out a hand and grinned at Zoya. “At least I knocked this time.”
She shook his hand and smiled back. “Before you get away again. Where is your station?”
His eyebrows went up and his grin spread. “You didn’t figure it out?” He looked back and forth between Zoya and Natalya.
“Use a bigger hammer?” Natalya asked. “That’s a clue?”
“I said it so often, I thought sure you’d be able to figure it out from that.”
Natalya shook her head. “I think I remembered every old joke, every comment about hammers. Every time you said ‘Nope, older.’”
“Yes, but what did you say back?” he asked.
“Why do we need a bigger hammer if there are no bigger nails?”
He shrugged. “There you go. Unless you deleted it, it’s in the database. Last Nail.”
Natalya closed her eyes and shook her head. “I never noticed it. I kept looking for some variation on hammer.”
“It’s not much yet. I’m slowly getting the hydroponics up and running and I’m going to need some more power, but it’s mine.” He grinned. “Now where do you want these bottles of gas?”
“I’m thinking we need to get them aft into environmental so we can bleed them into the system from there,” Natalya said.
“That’s probably the best way,” Regyri said. “Just needs a flow fitting.”
“I saw one in the spares locker,” Natalya said.
“How many people you need?” Zoya asked.
“I got it,” Regyri said. “They’re all racked on grav pallets. I should be able to walk them aft, no problem.”
“Five kilotons?” Zoya asked.
“That’s only five pallets but if you’re not used to having a kiloton mass floating behind you, I’d rather do it myself than risk somebody’s life.”
Natalya winced when she thought of the number of times she’d gotten jammed against a bulkhead.
Regyri ducked back into his ship and emerged with a pallet in tow. “Shall we?”
Zoya led the way with Natalya behind and Regyri easing the pallet along in the rear. Moving the bottles down to environmental went smoothly enough but the
first pallet took up almost all the free deck space.
Zoya surveyed the area then looked to Natalya. “Store the rest in engineering?”
Natalya nodded. “Don’t see why not. We’re not getting underway any time soon.”
It took the better part of two stans, inching the heavy loads along the length of the spine and down the ladder, to get the five pallets all settled and locked down. Parked in a row across the aft bulkhead left most of the engineering deck clear.
With the last one in place, Regyri dusted off his hands. “What next?”
“You said something about food?” Zoya asked.
“It’s not much. Some vegetables. Some meat. It’s fresh from the Ranch.”
Zoya pulled out her tablet and punched a couple of keys. “Kremer will be down in a couple of ticks. I assume this won’t be as massive?”
Regyri shook his head. “It might total a couple tons. It’s four pallets. I think among the four of us, one trip each. How many people do you have here now?”
Zoya blew out a breath. “Well, the ship can only hold about two dozen but we’ve got ten barges here now, I think.”
“Twelve,” Natalya said. “Roid Runner and Gritty Kitty.”
“Oh, I forgot Roid Runner. Kitty must have come in late yesterday.”
Natalya nodded. “Early in the midwatch this morning, actually.”
“How many are left out there?” Regyri asked.
“Too many,” Zoya said. “At least ten were on their way out when the station blew. They’ll be finishing up their runs in the next few weeks and be on their way back. Both of the haulers are here now, too. We can’t unload them. There’s no place to put the rock.”
“They have fuel enough to go back out?” he asked.
“Samson does. Hercules might. We could support barges on the near side of the belts but almost all of those came back to see what happened with the station.” Zoya shook her head. “According to the Higbee people, we’ll have enough capacity to process every rock in the place within a month.”
“So unload the barges first?” Regyri asked.
“That’s my thinking right now. Clear the barges. It’ll take them some time to get back on station. By this time next month we should have the most distant barges back in, the haulers back on the circuit, and be able to use the cans of rock to fill in any gaps in production.”
Regyri squinted a bit. “You’re going to need more barges, aren’t you?”
“Possibly.” Zoya shrugged. “It’s going to be a while before we get the last of the components in place. That parade is only the first round. What I’m hearing from the Higbee project lead is there are six more convoys coming in over the next four months.”
Kremer showed up leading a pair of ratings. “We’re here.” He grinned.
Regyri led them into the ship and through the galley to the cold storage areas behind. He pointed out four grav pallets and each of the men grabbed a handle. He grinned at Zoya. “Nothing personal, but you’re management.”
Zoya laughed and stepped back out of the way. She and Natalya followed behind.
With all the hands it took next to no time to get all the food stored appropriately and stack the empty pallets for Regyri to take back.
“Coffee, Dad?” Natalya asked.
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Kremer nodded to one of his helpers. “Holden. Make up a coffee tray, would you? We’ll have that right up for you in the wardroom, skipper.”
Zoya’s lips twitched but she didn’t grin. “Thank you, Mr. Kremer.”
“My pleasure, sar.”
In spite of it being a very short walk, Holden beat them to the wardroom and had a carafe, three cups, sweetener, creamer, and a plate of cookies waiting by the time they got there. He stood near the galley door. “Is there anything else you need, Captain?”
“Thank you, Mr. Holden, is it?”
He beamed. “Yes, sar. Came in off the Ore Hound a week ago.”
“Anything you or the other crews need?”
“I’m just grateful to be breathing and eating, sar.”
“You know this isn’t really a ship, right?” Zoya asked.
He grinned. “It’s got a captain, an engineer, and a cook, sar. Looks like a ship to me.”
Zoya laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Holden. We’re fine for now.”
“Thank you, sar.” He ducked through the door and disappeared.
“You’re a natural,” Regyri said.
Zoya poured herself a mug and put the carafe next to Regyri. “I’m a little out of practice,” she said. “But I’ve been doing it a very long time. Most of my life at this point.”
He poured his own coffee while Zoya took a cookie.
“What have you two been up to since graduation?” he asked, taking a sip and looking across the table at Natalya.
“Little of this, little of that,” Natalya said. “After TIC chased us out of Port Newmar we settled at Dark Knight for a while.”
He nodded. “Zoya said you’d met Inge.”
Natalya nodded. “She seems really talented.”
“She is. You probably met Kondur, too?”
“We actually worked for him a bit,” Natalya said.
Zoya took a cookie and nibbled it.
Regyri frowned and looked back and forth between the two women. “Doing what?”
The question felt a bit sharp to Natalya. “Nothing illegal.”
“We ran a can of ore up to Siren and brought back a load of milk,” Zoya said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Hydroponics?”
Zoya nodded. “We had a little problem with TIC over some parts issues, but we got it straightened out.”
A small bit of tension left his shoulders. “I heard you had some issues getting out of Port Newmar.” He glanced across the table.
“Misunderstanding,” Natalya said.
“Misunderstanding?”
“They thought I murdered a guy.”
“Thinking about it, it should have only been manslaughter,” Zoya said. “Murder requires premeditation.”
Natalya blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She glanced over to see her father’s scowl. “What?”
“You killed somebody?” His knuckles had turned white where he gripped his mug.
“Well, technically he was an undercover TIC agent. I didn’t know it at the time.”
Regyri’s face turned beet red before washing out to near white. “You killed an undercover TIC agent?”
“I didn’t know,” Natalya said.
Zoya reached over to place her fingers on Regyri’s forearm. “She didn’t kill him.” She nodded. “Trust me. It was a ... misunderstanding.”
“It was a setup,” Natalya said. “I’m still not sure why, but it’s turned out all right.”
“So you never killed anybody,” Regyri said.
Natalya looked into her cup, unable to look at her father.
“Right?” he asked. “You haven’t killed anybody, have you?”
Natalya sighed and looked up at him. “Only in self-defense.”
He blinked a few times before looking back and forth between Natalya and Zoya. “Self-defense?”
“It might have been two,” Natalya said. “I shot that first guy but I don’t know if he died. I was too busy being tossed out the airlock.” She glanced over at him. “Sorry, Dad. Both cases it was him or me.”
Regyri stared, slack jawed. His anger and concern seemed to have bled away with all the blood in his face. He looked at Zoya. “Tell me.” He swallowed, glanced at Natalya, then back to Zoya. “Please.”
Zoya filled him in on the details of their arrival in the system.
Natalya relaxed as the story spooled out, grateful that Zoya was glossing over some of the worst moments.
Regyri stared at Natalya for a full tick after Zoya finished up. “You’re all right? Really?”
Natalya shrugged. “Nearly as I can tell. It’s nothing I want to repeat, but I’m good with it.”
&nb
sp; He sipped his coffee and looked at the table cloth. “So you ran a cargo for Kondur? One of his ships, I take it?”
Natalya nodded at Zoya. “You tell him. It’s less problematic coming from you.” She gave her father a small smile.
Zoya told him about the Melbourne Maru and the run-in with TIC.
“We probably wouldn’t have taken the job except the Peregrine needed a replacement part I couldn’t afford at Dark Knight.” Natalya shrugged. “I got the part at Siren and we made a little cash on the way.”
“You got to play engineering first, too,” Zoya said.
Natalya chuckled. “And you were first mate for a few weeks.”
Regyri looked at them. “Do I want to know?”
Zoya shook her head. “Nothing untoward. We had some personnel issues with that crew. The skipper promoted us because he needed warm bodies. We got in, dealt with TIC, got out, made it home safe.”
“Dealt with TIC?”
“Something with parts smuggling. We weren’t smuggling them but found that somebody on our ship was. We just kinda helped TIC sort it out so we could leave.” Zoya took another bite of her cookie. “Nothing big.”
“Then what?” Regyri asked. “You worked for Kondur for all this time?”
“We banged around running small cargoes. Courier jobs aren’t exactly as common as I thought they’d be,” Natalya said. “We made a living, but just barely for a couple of stanyers.” She shot Zoya a look and got a tiny nod in return.
“One day we got a job offer from a big company. We had to sign NDAs and everything. We worked there for a couple of stanyers. When our contracts expired, we decided to go visit Zoya’s grandparents. The rest you know.”
“Nondisclosure agreements?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“What did you do?” he asked.
“We signed nondisclosure agreements,” Natalya said.
“Yes, but the job? What was it? I’ve never heard of a shipping company requiring NDAs.”
Zoya said, “We’re trying to tell you that we can’t tell you. We signed nondisclosure agreements. We’re not allowed to say who we worked for or what we did with them.”
He stared at Zoya for a few very long moments as if he were trying to decode her statements. “You’re serious?” he asked.
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