Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1)

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Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 17

by Nathan Lowell


  “We’ll be in the Albert system for a couple of days. I want you to take twenty-four hours off. We’ll get some of the boys and girls to mind the helm. I’ll want a regular bridge watch for Siren. TIC can’t see inside the ship, but if they call, we need to be able to give the right answer.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll be ready for a bit of sleep.”

  He looked at Blanchard. “You seem to be hanging on pretty well.”

  Blanchard smiled. “These first few days running out of the Dark are always challenging. I prepared for it before we left.”

  Trask snorted. “What’d you do? Sleep for a week?”

  Blanchard nodded. “Actually, more like three days. Also played with the kids. Read a little. Let the wife chase me around the house until I caught her.” He smiled. “I hit the lock ready to work.”

  Trask chuckled and shook his head. “Glad you’re here, Charlie.”

  “I’m still glad to be here, Tom.”

  Trask looked at Pritchard. “You’ve had it pretty easy this trip, Steven. What you been up to the last couple of days. Haven’t seen much of you.”

  Pritchard smiled and finished chewing the last of his biscuit before answering. “Mostly reading and watching holos in my stateroom. It’s rather relaxing being off the line at work.”

  Trask snorted. “I dare say. Ms. Regyri working out for you, then?”

  Pritchard smiled at Natalya. “Well, Captain, I must say she’s been a miracle worker. Since she’s been aboard, I haven’t been awakened once by any engineering issue. Nobody’s bothered me. It’s been a relief, frankly.”

  “I’ll bet it has,” the captain said with a wink at Natalya.

  The captain sat back in his chair then and waved his hand at the table. “You can clear this away, Mr. Bray. I think we’re done except for the coffee.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “If we’re done here, I think I’d like to try to grab a short nap, if that’s all right, Captain?” Zoya said.

  “Of course, Ms. Usoko. See you on the bridge at 0900.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” She stood and nodded around the table before heading for the door.

  Natalya started to follow her but the captain caught her eye and lifted his chin in a kind of reverse nod. “Hang in here a few, if you would, Ms. Regyri.”

  “Of course, Captain.” She settled back into her seat and saw the skipper give Blanchard a nod.

  “If I might be excused, Captain?” he said.

  “Certainly, Charlie. You’ve earned a bit of a break. Eisley’s got the helm up there until we jump into Albert. Take your time.”

  Blanchard nodded, smiled at Natalya, and made his exit.

  The captain looked at Pritchard. He didn’t say anything. Simply raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, yes.” Pritchard folded his napkin and placed it beside his coffee cup. “I’ll just go do something, shall I?”

  Trask grinned at him. “Try not to strain yourself, Steven.”

  “I’ll be careful, Captain.” Pritchard smiled at Natalya and scurried out after Blanchard.

  Trask sat for a few moments, staring into his coffee cup. A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. “How are you finding it, Natalya?”

  Natalya shrugged. “Not exactly what I expected. It still makes me a little nervous not having a live engineman keeping watch in either central or environmental. It doesn’t feel safe to me.”

  “Any problems?”

  “Not really.”

  “What about Town?”

  “He just needed to test me, I think. Solomon took him away and had a few quiet words with him. He’s been fine for the last couple of days.”

  “Pritchard?” he asked, glancing over at her for a moment before staring at the cup again. “You locked him out of the system pretty fast.”

  “I had Zoya give him a guest profile to keep him from fiddling with the machinery. The original user profile gave him access to do anything he wanted to the ship’s systems. He already told me he has no engineering background at all.”

  “This is his fifth trip. You think he’d start messing with the drives now?” His gaze lifted from the mug and leveled on her.

  “No, Skipper. I don’t. From a liability standpoint, it seemed a risk that we could avoid by chopping it off at the source. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it. Is it a problem?”

  Trask shook his head. “No, and I think that surprised me more than seeing it happen.”

  “How so?”

  “Pritchard’s a bit of an odd duck. He’s been with the ship quite a while. He’s always been the engineering chief even though he really has no qualifications for it. I expected he’d complain about not being able to see what was going on back there. He hasn’t. I’m not sure he’s even noticed.”

  “Captain, can I ask?”

  “Why he’s chief if he has no qualifications?”

  “Yeah.”

  “His name is clear and validated for Engineering Chief in the CPJCT databases. We’ll use that to order spares and tankage when we dock.”

  Natalya felt her eyeballs try to pop out of her skull in surprise. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  The captain gave a low chuckle from deep in his chest. “That’s what makes it so useful. It’s not supposed to be possible. Any more than it’s possible for us to be the Melbourne Maru out of New Kyoto in Ciroda.”

  “We changed the transponder code?”

  “Yep. It was scrubbed out and reset before we left the station. It’ll get changed back when we get home.”

  “What ship is it normally?”

  He chuckled again. “Normal’s in your perspective. Between runs, she’s the Folly. Kondur uses her for running bulk cargo around Toe-Hold space. He’s got a regular crew of malingerers and ne’er-do-wells who run it around for him.”

  “Why don’t they make this run?”

  “They need a skipper with a clean name and I can’t complain. Assuming we get home, I’ll make a nice wage for three months of nail-biting.” He grinned at her. “TIC keeps an eye on us, but they’re never sure who we are or where we’re going. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a couple of TIC people in the crew, but we’re not doing anything serious enough to warrant breaking their covers to do something about it.”

  “Why are they here, then?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Intel, mostly. They want to know where we are, what we’re doing there, and what we’re going to do next.”

  “So, what about the transponder? If they know you can change it, won’t that make things harder?”

  Trask shrugged his shoulder again. “They already know. They’ve known for stanyers. It’s not illegal out here.”

  “It will be when we jump into Siren. Even Albert, for that matter.”

  “And so is trading a can full of rocks without proper provenance.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “Easy. We’re not docking at Siren.” He paused. “At least, not right away.”

  “Then how is this going to work?”

  He grinned at her like a boy with a frog in his pocket. “Siren’s Confederation, but they allow private platforms and stations to set up around the belts. We’ll dock at one of them, swap the cans, and move on almost before anybody knows we’re moored.”

  “What about ordering tankage and spares?”

  “Once we’re buttoned up with the cargo, we’ll dock. By then the cargo will be legit. It’ll show the correct provenance and routing to go back to Ciroda.” He shrugged. “Only thing is, it’s not going to Ciroda. We’ll take good care of it at Dark Knight.”

  “So basically they’re turning a blind eye,” Natalya said.

  “Yes. We’ll slide in and slide out. Our little birdies will get a chance to go ashore and tweet while we’re there, but as long as we don’t ring any orbital alarm bells, TIC won’t bother us.”

  “Because it serves their purposes.”

  “Yes.”

  Natalya considered the idea.
“What purposes?”

  The captain didn’t answer right away. After a few moments he asked, “How much did your father tell you about Toe-Hold space?”

  “He gave me the basic history. How it seeded the area. Did the exploration and tagging so the Bureau of Exploration and, later, the CPJCT knew what systems were commercially viable.”

  “Did he tell you about closing their ports to us?”

  “No.”

  “It’s because they never did.”

  “Then why all the sneak and hide?”

  “What they did was establish a rule that made our operations untenable. CPJCT and their enforcement arm exist to keep the orbitals safe, the credits flowing, and the disruptive influences to a minimum.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question,” Natalya said.

  “Early on, TIC discovered that their plan had a fatal flaw. People.”

  “Dad mentioned something about that. Psychopaths and the like.”

  “So, there’s also a mindset that separates those who toe the CPJCT line from the people who itch under the weight of that much regulation. Almost from the beginning TIC recognized the difficulty in keeping a really tight lid on.”

  “So Toe-Hold became the relief valve,” Natalya said. “This I knew, but not how it worked.”

  “Yep. And it only works if it’s clandestine. At least in name.”

  “That’s the part I’m struggling with.”

  “Think about it for a tick. If it’s sanctioned by the authority you’re trying to escape, are you going to trust it?”

  Natalya sat back in her chair and examined that idea. “So by making it illegal, it filters out those who just want to poke a thumb in society’s eye?”

  Trask shook his head. “No, those people are why TIC continues. They need a way to manage the people who aren’t willing to stand up and move out.”

  “Then why?”

  “You had it a tick ago,” the captain said.

  “The relief valve.”

  “What happens when too much pressure builds up in a tank?” he asked.

  “The relief valve bleeds off the excess. Vents it into space usually.”

  “Does it bleed off everything?”

  “No, just enough to keep the tank from rupturing.”

  “Toe-Hold bleeds off the excess social pressure,” Trask said.

  The logic of it snapped into Natalya’s head. “Being illegal means that only those people who are willing to escape by any means possible actually go.”

  “It’s a crude valve but it’s worked for a couple of centuries now. Those who just want to burn it down? Those who want to cheat the system? They run into TIC. Those who just want to escape have a path. It’s tough enough that you have to really want to escape, but easy enough to do once you’ve crossed that mental threshold.”

  “Heroes need villains,” Natalya said.

  “Yeah. Where’d you hear that?”

  “Something my father used to say.” She smiled at the memory. “He’d get on these tirades about how both sides held the other up as the villain because they each needed somebody to be against.”

  “Your ole man is a pretty sharp operator.”

  After a few heartbeats of silence, Natalya said, “So this little production we’re taking into Siren isn’t really as risky as it’s been sold as.”

  The captain sipped his coffee before speaking. “Yes and no. CPJCT’s systems will examine us closely to make sure we’re who we say. They can’t allow Toe-Holders to bring in unauthorized cargo or operate counter to their regulations. You’re a legit engineering third—doing a great job, by the by.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m a legit captain, although my Master’s license was revoked about two decades ago.”

  “Nobody will check it?”

  “Oh, they’ll check but they’ll find that the license was reinstated just before I flew our first load into CPJCT space.”

  “Was it?” Natalya asked.

  “The records show it was.”

  “Do I want to know how?”

  He grinned at her. “You know the boys over at High Tortuga run the banks for the whole Western Annex, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “They might have put in a backdoor when they set up the banking system for CPJCT.”

  Natalya nodded. “I knew they put a lot into that system. Dad took great glee in pointing out that credits earned in Toe-Hold spend just as easily in CPJCT space.”

  “And vice versa,” the captain said.

  “So what’s keeping you in Toe-Hold space?” she asked. “Couldn’t you just pick up where you left off?”

  The captain smiled at her. “I probably could.”

  “Ah,” Natalya said.

  “You ever wonder why CPJCT requires all these watches?” Trask asked.

  “Safety.”

  “Employment,” the captain said. “They need to have a lot of jobs for people to keep them busy and earning so they can pay for the goods and services they use.”

  “That’s basically what Knowles said. But compared to all the people working for the corporations?” Natalya asked. “Fleet’s not that big.”

  Trask shrugged. “I may be a little cynical. Does it really make that much difference to have a person there compared to having your tablet wake you up if something goes wrong?”

  “The whole idea gives me hives,” Natalya said and rubbed her arms. “I mean, I’m not always awake on the Peregrine, but the systems are a lot simpler.”

  “And you don’t have a long way to go to fix whatever’s complaining,” Trask said with a nod. “I’m still not convinced that this isn’t all just make-work.”

  “Knowles agrees with you. He’s covering Environmental from his tablet. What about the bridge?” Natalya asked.

  “When we’re ballistic—like now—there’s not a lot for the bridge crew to do. We’re out in the Deep Dark. There’s nothing we can do if a rock has our name on it. There’s nobody else within a few parsecs of us. Mostly it’s programmed burns and waiting for the capacitors to charge.”

  “I get that, Skipper, but what about when we jump into Albert and then to Siren?”

  “Yeah, we’ll need to keep a minimum watch up there. We’ll be under sail so we’ll need somebody on the helm. Packets are small enough that the autopilot can handle variations. We’re too big for that. Someday maybe they’ll get the systems to be responsive enough but for now we still need a hand at the helm. We also need to answer any calls that come in which means one of the officers needs to be there in case it’s TIC.” He pursed his lips and shrugged. “We usually have somebody on the generators down in engineering while we’re under sail. It’s mostly superstition, if you ask me.”

  Natalya kept her mouth shut and her eyes down.

  “Why’d you want to come out to the Toe-Holds?” the skipper asked after a few moments.

  She glanced up at the sudden conversational course change. “Never considered doing anything else.”

  “Then why’d you go to Port Newmar?”

  “My mother insisted. She and Dad both went so she thought I should.” Natalya took a deep breath and blew it out slowly through her nose as she considered. “It was probably a good thing.”

  “That where you learned to fight?” The captain’s eyes twinkled a bit.

  “I’ll admit that it’s where I honed my skill.” She shrugged. “It came easy and that made me a target for the more testosterone-poisoned in my classes. I got good and stayed there.”

  “You’re fast. I’ll give you that.” He tipped his mug and drained the last of the coffee. “Albee never saw you coming.”

  “That was kinda the point.”

  “You’ll have to watch your back when we get home.”

  Natalya smiled. “Yeah. It’s a habit I got into at the academy.”

  He nodded and pushed his empty coffee mug away. “You’re more than we bargained for, but I’m pretty sure we’re getting the best of the deal. Anybody gives you any cr
ap, I’ve got your back.” He peered at her like she should know what he was talking about.

  “Thanks, Skipper. I’m still feeling my way and trying not to get too distracted when things aren’t always what I think they should be.”

  “If you can do that, Ms. Regyri, you’re head and shoulders above pretty much everybody else on this ship.” He grinned. “Myself included.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Regyri. You’re dismissed.”

  She gave him a nod and stood. “Probably better make a run down to the engine room and see if it’s still there. We’re jumping at 0900?”

  “If the capacitors are charged.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Chapter 24

  Albert System: 2363, June 10

  The jump into Albert left them on the far side of the system’s primary from the orbital and a long way out in the periphery. The captain ordered the sail and keel deployed, and the ship settled in for the first of the long waits as they used the kickers and the sails to eke out a bit more velocity before the final jump into Siren.

  Luncheon in the wardroom proved to be a haphazard affair, with the captain taking the first bridge watch and leaving the other officers to fend for themselves. Even the hermit cargo master came out of hiding to join them.

  They’d only been underway a couple of days, but Josh Lyons looked a bit worse for wear and smelled like he’d been living in the same uniform the whole time. Luckily he sat far enough away from Natalya that she only got periodic whiffs.

  Pritchard turned up his nose at the man, but Blanchard tried to reach out to him.

  “Anything we can do to help, Josh?” Blanchard asked.

  “Bugger off. All right?” Lyons scowled across the table and grabbed a biscuit from the plate.

  “Just asking,” Blanchard said, holding up a hand in surrender. “I’m here if you need anything.”

  Lyons shook his head but didn’t offer any further unpleasantness.

  “I still don’t see how we’re going to get up enough velocity to be believable,” Zoya said, looking at Blanchard.

  Blanchard shrugged. “We’ll be a few extra days sliding into Siren. Nothing to be done about it without spending too much time here.”

 

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