He shook his head, an odd expression on his face like he thought she might be messing with his head but he didn’t dare call her on it. “I don’t know, sar.”
Natalya nodded. “Fair enough.” She pulled out her tablet and did a quick query on ShipNet. When she didn’t find it there, she pulled in a StationNet node and found what she was looking for. She downloaded it and then sent it to Helms. “Spacer’s Handbook,” she said.
He looked up at her with a blank look. “What?”
“I just sent you a copy of the Spacer’s Handbook. Everything you need to know to be a spacer is in there. You want to be an actual able spacer, you just need to pass the test. It’s in there.”
“I’m a Toe-Holder. How can I take the test?”
Natalya thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know, off hand. What I do know is that if you’re ready to take the test—and the opportunity comes—you’ll be able to jump on it right then.” She shrugged. “If you know the job, doing the job is a lot easier. Who knows? You might decide you’d rather be a High Liner than a Toe-Holder.”
He laughed. “As if. Why would I want to be one of them?”
She grinned at him. “Careful, Mr. Helms. I’m one of them.” She sighed. At least she had been. Once, not too long ago.
His eyes got wide and he pulled back a bit. “Sorry, sar. No offense.”
“None taken.” She smiled again. “Strange things happen between here and there, Mr. Helms. My father was a Toe-Holder and a certified High Liner engineer. I’m pretty sure you can be both.”
He looked at his tablet and back at her. “Never thought of it that way.”
“Never too late to start,” she said.
The lock-call rang, startling them both.
“There’s the chandlery,” Helms said, pointing to the lock display.
A dark-skinned woman in a station jumpsuit peered into the pickup outside the lock.
Helms keyed the lock and Natalya stepped forward to meet her.
“Got parts for Melbourne Maru,” the woman said, even before the lock fully extended.
Natalya nodded and held out her hand for the manifest. “I’m Natalya Regyri, Engineering Third officer. I can sign for them.”
The woman pulled the tablet back. “Sorry, sar. I’m only allowed to deliver to a Chief Pritchard.”
Natalya stepped out of the lock and looked at the cargo tug with two wagons behind it. “Really?”
She held up the tablet and pointed to a line on the manifest. “I’m just the messenger, sar.”
“Did you happen to deliver a shipment here yesterday sometime early afternoon?”
She shook her head. “No, sar. I was off yesterday. Can you get Chief Pritchard or should I bring these back when he’s available?”
“Unfortunately, that might be a problem. Would the captain do in his stead?”
She frowned at the manifest then at the open lock. “Lemme check with the boss.” She stepped away and hit a few keys on her tablet. With a glance over her shoulder, she hunched over the device and started speaking quietly.
Natalya pulled her own tablet out and sent a bip to Captain Trask.
Trask shambled out of the lock about the same time the chandlery worker—a Ms. Deunk, according to her name badge—turned back to Natalya. “Trouble, Ms. Regyri?” he asked.
“Interesting development. Seems the chandlery can’t accept receipt from anybody but Mr. Pritchard.”
Trask’s eyes opened in surprise. “Is that so?” He turned to the delivery worker. “I trust your boss will accept my thumb for this delivery?”
“Yes, Captain. Of course.” She seemed quite amenable. “You’ll understand that I just needed to clear it with the office?”
“Prudent,” Trask said. “You didn’t happen to deliver here yesterday, did you?”
She shook her head. “No, as I told Ms. Reg ...”
“Regyri,” Natalya said.
“Thank you, yes. As I said before. I had yesterday off.”
“Would those instructions have been in force yesterday?” Trask asked.
She shrugged. “You’d have to check with the chandlery. I have no idea what might have happened yesterday.”
“Can you give me a name? Somebody who might know?” Trask asked.
“See Labreque. He runs the fulfillment center on day shift.”
“He’d know about yesterday?”
“If not, he’ll know who does. Can I get you to sign off on this?” She held out her manifest.
“Let’s wheel it on board and get it checked in, shall we?” Trask said.
She looked at the piles of goods and back at the captain. “Of course, Captain.”
For the next two stans, they compared the parts coming in with the parts they’d ordered. Natalya double-checked the actual part specifications to make sure they were the parts needed for the ship. Helms helped by providing muscle and reading off package labels while Deunk and the captain handled the manifest. When the last package came aboard, everybody breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, Ms. Deunk,” the captain said as he finished signing off on the receipt.
“Glad to be of service, Captain.” She didn’t waste any time getting off the ship and turning her little train of cargo wagons around. In just a few heartbeats she’d disappeared into the traffic on the dock, with only the tinny beep-beep of her proximity alarms to mark her passage.
“Halfway home,” Natalya said, eyeing the stack of parts and packaging.
“Halfway?” the captain asked.
“We’ll need to get this stuff all down to the other end of the ship and then log it into the spares inventory.”
He shook his head. “Seems like your job is just beginning.”
“Yeah, well, for this I can get help. A couple of grav-pallets, a few of my engineering crew. We’ll have this stuff aft in a lot less time than it took to check in here.”
“What about checking it into spares?”
Natalya grimaced. “That will take a bit longer but I learned a few tricks from Mr. Lyons on that score. Shouldn’t be too bad.”
Trask looked at Helms. “Button us up, Mr. Helms. No sense in letting all the heat out.”
Helms snickered but keyed the lock closed.
“I’ll leave this in your capable hands, Ms. Regyri. I need to see a man about a shipment.” His expression had clouded over. Natalya didn’t want to be Pritchard when the storm broke.
“Aye, aye, Skipper,” she said.
Chapter 50
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2
Natalya had just gotten started organizing the transfer of goods when Trask stormed back to the brow. “Helms,” he snapped. “Tell me Pritchard’s still on the ship.”
Helms face went blank. “I’d be lying if I did, Captain. He went ashore while I was getting my lunch. Wazu was covering while I ate and logged him out.”
Natalya watched Trask’s jaw clench and his hands fold into huge fists. He nodded, slowly. “Very well, Mr. Helms. Thank you. If he comes back aboard, would you bip me?”
Helms nodded. “You bet, Captain. I’ll pass the word to the next watch, too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Helms. Carry on.” Trask looked at Natalya. “Our little band keeps shrinking. Would you see me in the cabin when you’ve finished here?”
“Of course, Captain,” she said.
Trask left the brow without another word.
“He doesn’t seem pleased,” Helms said.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Is Mr. Pritchard in trouble, Ms. Regyri?”
Natalya looked at Helms. “Might be. The captain thinks Mr. Pritchard is restricted to the ship. Apparently Mr. Pritchard doesn’t agree.”
“Do you think he’ll come back before we leave?” Helms asked.
“Who? Pritchard?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know. I’d have to guess, and I’ve not had a lot of luck guessing lately.”
Solomon and Town arrived with Sheddon and R
eisine pulling grav-pallets. “We have spare parts now, eh?” Solomon said, surveying the pile on the deck with a certain glee.
“If you could help me get them down to engineering?” Natalya asked. “Just haul them back and stack them outside the spares locker.”
Solomon nodded, and between the six of them they had most of the parts piled high on the two grav-pallets in short order.
“Anything fragile in this mound?” Solomon asked, eyeing the collection.
“Heck of a time to ask, but no. Everything should be packed solidly enough that a little bumping around won’t hurt it,” Natalya said.
Within a stan, she had everything stacked where she wanted it and felt confident that none of it had gone astray between the lock and engineering. She’d need to add everything to the spares inventory and stow it in the appropriate bins, but that would have to wait until she saw the captain.
She found him in the cabin, staring at his console. He looked up and offered a feeble smile. “So, we’re down to you, me, Usoko, and Lyons,” he said. “It’s enough to get us home, but we’ll get screamed at by TIC if we leave so shorthanded.”
“There’s also the matter of the emitter bus coupling,” Natalya said.
Trask nodded. “I hadn’t forgotten that. I assume you’ve got what you need to make it right?”
“Should have. Assuming the test and alignment tools work the way I remember.”
“If they don’t?” he asked. “Or do I not want to know?”
“Probably don’t want to know.”
He looked at her with a hard flat stare.
“Probably burn out the bus bars. Might wreck the channels.”
“You make me feel so much more confident,” he said, but his eyes took on a bit of life. “I saw your part came in safely. Stash that in your grav-trunk.”
“I will. Thank you, Captain.”
“Good, but that’s not why I asked you here.” Trask squinted at her across his desk.
“What do you need, Skipper?”
“At this point I have to assume I’ve lost both Blanchard and Pritchard. I don’t know where Blanchard might have gone to, but after Mr. Lyons’s pronouncement, I fear the worst. If Charlie were able, he’d have been in contact.”
“You think Mr. Pritchard has fled?”
“Yeah. I have no idea what the hell he was thinking.” Trask shook his head. “I don’t even know him anymore.”
“The alternative of going back to face Verkol Kondur wouldn’t appear to have a long-term positive return on investment,” Natalya said.
“If he didn’t do anything, Kondur wouldn’t do anything. He’s a fair man.”
“Not the kind that would scapegoat the nearest warm body?” Natalya asked.
Trask took a deep breath and blew it out. “I can’t say never, but I’ve never known him to.”
“Half a million credits might make a man see things in a harsher light.”
Trask nodded. “I’m trying to get to this Labreque fellow at the chandlery.”
“Why don’t you go down there and roust him out?”
“I would, but I’ve got OD,” Trask asked. “I’m not waking Ms. Usoko up unless I absolutely need to.”
“Mr. Lyons?”
“I thought of him. In a pinch, sure, but with his reputation with the crew, it would be a last resort.”
Natalya’s eyes felt like they were bugging out when she realized where the Captain was heading. “You’re not thinking of making me OD.”
The small smile playing around his lips scared Natalya. “You’ve got a great reputation with the crew. Not just engineering.”
“I don’t even know the crew outside of engineering.”
He chuckled. “They know you. You’re the one who took Town without hitting him and kicked Albee’s ass. You made a lot of friends that day.”
“I didn’t know Town was that unpopular.”
“He wasn’t. He’s not.” Trask shrugged. “He can have a temper and a lot of his shippies have felt it. You not only took him down, you picked him up after.” Trask paused. “Albee was icing on the cake.”
“What do I know about being OD?”
“More than pretty much anybody else on the ship, with the possible exceptions of Usoko and me.” He tilted his head and squinted an eye at her. “You’re not going to sit there and tell me Usoko knows more about running a ship than you, are you?”
“At least she’s in the right division.”
“Evasion doesn’t become you, Ms. Regyri. What would your father do?”
Natalya chuckled in spite of herself.
“Good. Now, I’m going to make you OD for a couple of stans while I go track down this Labreque in the chandlery.” He glanced at the chronometer. It clicked over to 1612. “I want to get him before the day shift goes off and I’m afraid I might already be too late.”
“Any orders for me?”
He stood and thought for a moment. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”
“What if Mr. Pritchard or Mr. Blanchard returns?”
“Bip me. I won’t be gone long.”
“What if—”
Trask leveled a stare at her. “Bip. Me.” He shrugged. “Or deal with it. Whatever it is. You’re the OD. Maude knows you can’t make any worse decisions than I have lately.” He sighed and stomped out of the cabin. She heard him clatter down the ladder.
Realizing what had happened, Natalya jumped to her feet and followed him down. She wanted to check in with Helms and make sure the lines of communication were open and untangled.
At least until Zoya woke up or the captain returned.
Chapter 51
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2
The grin Helms gave her when she stepped onto the brow could have lit up the entire engine room. “You’re the OD,” he said.
“He told you?”
“On his way out.” He lowered his voice and stuck out his chest. “Regyri has the conn. Don’t give her any grief.”
“Is there anybody still aboard?” she asked.
“Ms. Marah is working on dinner, I hope. I think Bray has the duty today. Both the Solomons took off a few ticks ago. Deck gang is almost all ashore except for the watch section and Ms. Usoko.” He consulted his console. “You want a list?”
She shook her head. “No. Just trying to get a feel for who’s here and who’s not.”
“Mostly not,” Helms said. “Actually, I think most of engineering is still aboard. Knowles left this morning but his people are still aboard.”
Natalya nodded. “Figured most people would be off the ship.”
The lock-call rang.
“Now who?” Helms asked, peering into the pickup.
Natalya looked over his shoulder but only saw the top of a cap with the station logo on it. A cargo tug and trailers waited at the foot of the ramp.
“We’re not expecting another shipment are we, Ms. Regyri?” Helms asked.
“Not that I know of, but we should probably see what they want. Maybe they found our lost shipment.”
Helms keyed the lock open and crossed the brow to see. Natalya started to follow him but nearly bumped into him as he backed up, his hands raised, and the barrel of a vicious-looking needler stuck in his nose.
“Ah, good. Ms. Troublemaker. He left you in charge?” Pritchard stood just inside the lock, his weapon pressed into Helms’s nose and his eyes fixed on Natalya. “Would you like to try your ninja skills on me? I’m sure Helms here wouldn’t mind getting a brain full of needles.” He glanced at Helms out of the corner of his eye. “Would you, Helms?”
Natalya lifted her hands, palm out and backed away from the lock. “We thought you’d scarpered with the loot,” she said.
“We?”
“Captain Trask and I.”
“In a matter of speaking, I did.” He nodded at the cargo train behind him. “I just brought it back again.”
“So what’s your plan?” Natalya asked.
“Well, since the captain
so conveniently left the ship, it would be a good time for me to load up and head out.” He smiled at Natalya. “You and Ms. Usoko won’t give me any trouble about that, will you?” He pressed the needler into Helms’s face.
“You know we can’t leave the system, right?”
“Yes. Although, I understand you got the parts you needed this afternoon so you might be able to fix it before we hit the Burleson limit.” He nodded at the cargo tug outside. “We just need to get those parts loaded up and we’ll be on our way.”
“The captain will be back before we could load that all up, right?”
“Just you? Certainly. Luckily, I’m not relying on your muscles.” He nodded at the watchstander’s desk. “If you’d be so good as to have a seat back there. Hands on the desk?”
Natalya took the watchstander’s seat as Pritchard backed Helms against the bulkhead. “I’ve seen you in action, Ms. Regyri. Very exciting. I had no idea people could move that fast. Please don’t move like that here. No matter how fast you are, you can’t beat my trigger finger. That’s a good girl.”
“So how are you going to get that stuff aboard?” Natalya asked.
Pritchard whistled. “Wolk? Town? Come along, gentlemen. Time to earn your keep.”
Wolk and Town strolled out of the passageway and smirked at Natalya.
“If you’d be so good as to fetch that cargo from the dock, gentlemen? We can end this farce and get underway,” Pritchard said.
The two started dragging the parts in and stacking them against the bulkhead. Some of the packages were so large, it took both men to carry them. The loading took almost no time; Natalya had to give them credit. Not having to verify the shipment against a manifest sped up the process greatly.
Natalya glanced at Helms. Sweat coated his face and his eyes were screwed shut.
“How do you expect to get away with this, Mr. Pritchard?”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. That would be telling.”
“We can’t jump. Do you think you can just dodge around outrunning TIC interceptors until—what? I fix the drives and we scamper off into the Deep Dark?”
“Seriously, Ms. Regyri. Have you been reading adventure novels?” He tsked. “I’ve been working on this for … well … a very long time. At first I thought your arrival was a disaster. Then I realized you were the perfect patsy. And no, I’m not going to share the plan with you.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”
Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 33