Beverly ducked her head a little bit when she saw him and started to giggle. “The guy in the jacket?” she asked from behind a hand.
The waitress nodded. “Yup. That’s him.” She continued on to deliver an order to the next table.
Brill leaned into Beverly and asked, “You know him?”
“Oh, yeah,” Bev said with an emphatic nod of her head. “You should go over and thank him for the drink.”
“Really?” Brill said and looked again. He still smiled at her, waiting for her reaction.
“Oh, yeah,” Bev said again.
Brill looked puzzled and shrugged. “If you’re setting me up, Beverly Arith, I will make you suffer in ways you cannot possibly fathom,” she said darkly.
“You already do, hon,” Bev assured her with a smile so warm, two of the ice cubes in my drink melted.
“And I should go thank him for the drink?” she asked again.
Bev nodded very solemnly. “You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
The way she said it made even Pip blush.
Brill looked at me and I just said, “Remember the word.”
She made up her mind stood up. I was so proud of her because she did not just stand—she really stood. Not the usual Brill stoop so she did not bang her head, but straight, tall, and proud like that day we sailed into Chez Henri. She picked up her drink and sashayed over to where he waited. As she approached, he slid off the stool and dropped almost to the level of the bar, but held a stool for her before getting back on his own.
I looked at Beverly and asked, “You sent her off to thank a midget?”
“He’s not that short. The angle and standing next to Brill makes it look worse than it is. He’s about a meter and a quarter. A little more maybe.”
“But you know how sensitive she is about her height…”
“Oh, I don’t think height is going to be an issue tonight,” she said softly with a peculiar emphasis on the word height.
Pip was leaning in on the conversation, too. “Why not?” he asked.
Bev shrugged. “What he lacks in height, he more than makes up for in length and width,” she said with an evil grin. I thought Pip might swallow his tongue at that, but when she added, “And he can lick his own eyebrows.” I was very glad I did not have a mouthful of my drink.
I turned to her. “You are evil.”
“Thanks,” she said smugly.
“I think you guys are becoming a corrupting influence on Ish. He’s change a lot since leaving the galley.”
Bev and I looked at each other and shrugged. “We try,” she said. “As much as we can.”
“I suspect this is just the beginning. Things are likely to be pretty lively in Betrus, too, don’t you?” I asked Bev.
“Yes. Yes, I think you’re right,” she answered.
Pip just shook his head and laughed. “Someday I’m gonna be able to tell my grandkids I knew you.”
“Yeah, right. With your luck, you’ll be in the cell next to us,” I told him.
I ordered another round when the waitress came by and the room was already growing warm as more people arrived and overloaded the air conditioners.
About half a stan later, Brill came back to the table with an odd, dazed look on her face and the man in tow. “Hey, guys, this is Steve from the Calhoun. Steve, I think you know Beverly, that’s Pip, and this is Ishmael.”
“Hi, Steve,” Bev said. “I thought you were getting off the old Hound.”
He shook his head. “Naw, you know how it is, once you get a bunk broke in, it’s hard to change.”
Bev raised her glass to that.
Brill broke in with, “Um, I’m going to go see Steve’s—”
Bev interrupted with, “Etchings?”
“Yes, etchings. Exactly.”
“We’ll leave a light on for you,” Bev said.
Brill looked at Bev with the oddest expression I think I’ve ever seen on anybody’s face then turned to me. I smiled and winked. “Remember,” I told her.
When they had gone, Pip said, “Sweet python of Pythias, those were tight pants he had on.”
Bev nodded, slurped an ice cube out of her drink, and started crunching it. “Steve knows how to get a girl’s attention, no question about it.”
I turned to Pip and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a little inadequate right now.”
“He’d make a horse feel inadequate,” Pip said with more than a little awe in his voice. “He won’t hurt her, will he?”
Bev laughed. “Only if she wants him to.”
About that time a strawberry blonde in a tight, white cashmere sweater, black capris, and knee-high boots laced all the way up plunked down in Pip’s lap and looped an arm around his neck. With a nod to me and a wink at Bev, she turned to Pip and held out her hand. “Hi, my name is Janette and my friend over there is Katie,” she said, nodding back to a brunette in a low-cut blouse sitting in a booth.
Pip shook the offered hand. “Hi. I’m Philip but everybody calls me Pip.”
She didn’t let go of his hand, but leaned in a little closer. “I wonder, Pip, if you’d settle a bet for us.”
“Sure. I will if I can.”
It is not often one sees Pip disconcerted, but the assets wrapped in cashmere so close to his face tangled his usually glib tongue.
“What’s the bet?” I asked.
“Well,” she said, looking directly into Pip’s eyes, “do you know that little sigh that a really satisfied woman makes?”
Pip said, “Yeah?”
“Well, see,” she went on, “Katie bet me ten credits you probably didn’t, but I bet you probably did.”
“Sounds like she owes you the ten creds,” I said, playing the straight man.
“Well, she’s not going to pay out ten creds just on your say-so,” she said with a delightful little pout still staring into Pip’s eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d come with us for a couple stans and prove it?”
“Why, yes. I’d be happy to,” Pip said. “But, what does she get if she wins?”
“She gets to teach you how.”
Bev said, “Sounds like a fair bet to me.”
Janette stood up and drew Pip after her.
As they started off, I called after her, “He’s got duty at 04:30.”
She checked the chrono, and tossed me a saucy wink. “That should be just about right.”
Bev and I watched them go, one on either side. Pip seemed a bit dazed.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Katie and Janette?” Bev asked back. “Bunk mates on the Alistair. They’re getting underway midmorning tomorrow.”
“Bunk mates?”
“Yeah, they have a different culture on the Alistair.”
“I dare say.”
“They’ll give him a good ride and then bring him home. They’re not cruel—usually.”
“You realize he’s going to be insufferable for a month?” I asked.
“Probably two,” Bev agreed.
“I hope he clipped his fingernails.”
Bev took another slug of her drink and nodded agreement.
“Tell me,” I said to her, “is the Lois the only ship—like us?”
“You mean where we don’t screw with crew?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She shook her head. “No, actually, most ships are like that. Too professional or too much like family.”
“Seems harsh.”
“It’s not all that pleasant on ships like the Audrey and the Alistair,” she said.
“Oh, like being locked on a ship for forty-odd days with somebody you just broke up with?” I asked.
“Or being locked in a ship for forty days with a pair of feuding lovers?” she countered.
“Ouch,” I said.
We grinned at each other. “In spite of that do you wish we were on the Alistair?” I asked her.
She considered it for a bit while she chewed another ice cube. “No,” she said finally. “If we were, we wo
uldn’t have what we got and I’m liking that a lot.”
“Two more of my ice cubes just melted,” I pointed out.
“Please don’t talk about melting.”
“Sorry.”
She nodded. “So? What are you going to do now?”
I looked around the bar for a few heartbeats. “My work is done here. I think I’ll just drink up and head back to the ship. I got duty in the morning.”
“I do, too. Mind if I join ya?”
We swigged down the drinks and I threw a couple of cred chits on the table. “Let’s go,” I said.
We didn’t need to talk much as we walked back toward the lift. We were communicating just fine.
I pressed the call button and she turned to me with a frown. “What was the word?”
“Valkyrie.”
The lift doors opened and we rode it up in silence. When we got to the Lois’s dock, she keyed the lock and said, “Good word.”
“Thanks.” I paused as the lock cycled. “He won’t hurt her?”
“She’ll thank me in the morning.”
“Still.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a sad little sigh.
The lock cycled open and we got on with being spacers.
The Golden Age of the Solar Clipper
If you enjoyed this novel, you will be happy to learn that…
Half Share is the second in the six book Trader Series from The Golden Age of the Solar Clipper. Nathan’s series tells the tales of everyday men and women, real people doing ordinary things and forging bonds of friendship while traveling the stars in the Deep Dark. It is a coming of age story of Ishmael Horatio Wang—he’s just an average Joe trying to make a living.
This series was originally released as Podcasts, an audio format distributed for free (donations accepted and appreciated), where chapters are released serially. The next four podiobooks in the series are available now and can be listened to at www.podiobooks.com. Ridan Publishing plans to publish each book in the Trader series in both printed and ebooks formats and editing is underway. If you wish to be notified as the books are released please send an email to: [email protected] and we’ll let you know when they become available.
Nathan’s stories are some of the most popular out of the hundreds of offerings from www.podiobooks.com, and as of December 2010 he held 5 out of 10 Top Overall Rated (#4 Captain’s Share, #5 Ravenwood, #6 Full Share, #7 Double Share, and #8 Quarter Share) and also 5 out of 10 Top Overall Ratings by Votes (#2 Double Share, #3 Quarter Share, #4 Full Share, #5 Half Share, and #6 Captain’s Share).
About the Author
Nathan Lowell has been a writer for more than forty years, and first entered the literary world by podcasting his novels. His sci-fi series, The Golden Age of the Solar Clipper grew from his long time fascination with space opera and his own experiences shipboard in the United States Coast Guard. Unlike most works which focus on a larger-than-life hero (prophesized savior, charismatic captain, or exiled prince), Nathan centers on the people behind the scenes--ordinary men and women trying to make a living in the depths of space. In his novels, there are no bug-eyed monsters, or galactic space battles, instead he paints a richly vivid and realistic world where the “hero” uses hard work and his own innate talents to improve his station and the lives of those of his community.
Dr. Nathan Lowell holds a Ph.D. in Educational Technology with specializations in Distance Education and Instructional Design. He also holds an M.A. in Educational Technology and a BS in Business Administration. He grew up on the south coast of Maine and is strongly rooted in the maritime heritage of the sea-farer. He served in the USCG from 1970 to 1975, seeing duty aboard a cutter on hurricane patrol in the North Atlantic and at a communications station in Kodiak, Alaska. He currently lives in the plains east of the Rocky Mountains with his wife and two daughters.
Awards for Nathan's Books
2010 Parsec Award Winner for Best Speculative Fiction for Captain’s Share
2009 Podiobooks Founder’s Choice Award for Captain’s Share
2009 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction for Double Share
2008 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction for Full Share
2008 Podiobooks Founder’s Choice Award for Double Share
2008 Parsec Award Finalist for Best Speculative Fiction for South Coast
Contact
Author’s Blog: www.solarclipper.com
Twitter: twitter.com/nlowell
Email: [email protected]
BOOKS IN THE GOLDEN AGE OF THE SOLAR CLIPPER
Trader Tales
Quarter Share
Half Share
Full Share
Double Share
Captain's Share
Owner's Share*
Shaman Tales
South Coast
Cape Grace*
Fantasy Books by Nathan Lowell
Ravenwood
*Forthcoming
Half Share Page 26