The man smiled from ear to ear. "I want my drill press back."
"You will have to ask Tom about that. He is the one you sold it to. But that should not be a problem for 500."
"Hey I sold it to him for 50."
"Well you know how inflation is pea brain. You know how us blind people keep getting our zero's mixed up and all. Try talking to him nice for a change and maybe he will be reasonable but since he has been drooling over that thing while you have called us more names than I can count for years, I would not count on it."
"Hey you guys know I was only funning you don't you?"
"Sure Mack and it is going to cost you now, just for the fun of it you know." Mark already had the harness on from before as he clipped the safety line on and started out onto the lift trucks long arm and out along the box handling cradle still attached to the shop. Stopping half way out he looked down. "You know I bet Tom would be a lot more agreeable if you offered to let him use it anytime he wanted. Besides I have heard your air cycle. Now that we may be losing our aircars, Tom is a wiz with air cycles, have yours purring in no time. Could probably even help you add a side car with that press you have and some sheet metal and this new micronic welder we have."
Tom was just finishing up the weld on the inside when Mark got there. Hooking a pair of support straps to the upper lip a couple feet from the corner of the box in each direction to provide something to sit back into and hold his weight. Mark stepped out around the corner of the container planted his feet up against the container in the lower strap and leaned back into the upper strap able to use his hands without hanging on to anything. Then taking the welder and hood from Tom he started welding the outside of the box lock pad to the rail making multiple passes to build up a good inch thick bead. Tom leaned out and started negotiating with the man below.
Taking the helmet off he brushed the bead clean looking for cracks and suddenly started seeing deeper into the mettle of the weld. He spotted a section that had a minute crack where one bead had not firmly touched the one next to it.
Taking out his torch he cut that section out creating a nice wide long groove well past both ends of the crack then welded it up solid.
Finely satisfied he handed the helmet and welder to Tom. Then pulling himself up with his arms he unhooked the support line from around the corner of the box. As he reached to move around to the crane cradle he heard a scream from below. Looking down he saw Mindy looking up at him.
Her hand reaching up to point at him as she jumped up and down screaming. Her boobs flopped out into plain sight from the much too small halter top that probably fit her before her boobs grew.
All Mark could think of was; “Wow! Nice! But what the hell is her problem?” As he enjoyed the show, he missed the hand hold he was reaching for at the same time his foot slipped off the ledge of the cradle. Unprepared and surprised, his mind elsewhere; his weight jerked his other hand off the top edge of the box; plunging him down away from the box. His fixation on her nipples and bouncing boobs delayed his reflexes as he reached for a bar on the lower corner of the crane cradle as he fell past it. He was able to slap it with his hand but not get a good hold of it.
“Oh my shit. No!” Mark fell 20 feet not having time to panic as Mary's bare boobs grew in size making two complete bounces up and down before the safety strap finely pulled tight and the rip stop strap started slowing him down bringing him to a stop with his feet a foot off the deck, the harness painfully digging into his crotch, shoulders and chest as he swung back and forth from the strap attached to the Dee-ring between his shoulders and anchored 40 some feet above on the loader.
Marry came running up tackling him with a big bear hug. He swung with her wrapping her legs and arms around him with her bare firm boobs pressing hard into him until she put her legs down and stopped him still pressing her bare breasts into him with a hug.
“You're alive!” she screamed hugging him tightly. “I heard you were killed!”
Wiping her tears away as she finely stood back exposing her boobs to him and everyone in sight. “I thought you were dead you liar!” Hitting him in the stomach and sending him swinging again she turned around slipping her boobs back into the halter top with some difficulty with her hands and stomped off a few feet before glancing around at Mark then breaking into a run for the elevator.
Trying to catch his breath as the pain from the loose harness straps dug into his body that was still hurting from earlier in the morning. He watched the red head disappear into the elevator.
Pop walked up to him and dropped a heavy shackle on the deck with an ear splitting clang in front of Mark as he slowly swung back and forth, his toes inches off the deck. Making him jerk his head around from the closed elevator.
“This shackle turns into the top corner of the storage boxes key holes and locks onto the rails so boxes can be safely and easily hung from the overhead while other cargo is placed on the deck. You might just use these on the rest of these storage boxes instead of taking all that time to weld them up permanently. Seeing how some of them are aluminum and some are composites which don’t weld worth shit to steel rails. Nope not very well at all. But then I am just a senile old man and don’t understand you smart young squirts new ways hey boy?” Turning around Pop started to walk away before turning back around. “Oh and when you get done fucking around playing Tarzan on your swing, you can move my short box to live in up there too.” Again he started to leave before turning back. “And while you're at it you can put in an elevator stop at the catwalk cause I’m too damn old to be climbing 4 decks up that damn ladder.” Then headed for his shack as more people started arriving to help get him down.
His feet was barely on the deck when the owners of the other various shops and club houses started asking him to put their cargo boxes up next as Jolleen, Peter, Tom, Dick and the other club members joined him.
Chet's father Mr. Greedly walked up to Mark. "You can start by putting my Mini-Max right up against yours Collins." The Mini-Max containers were twice as wide and tall as the standard container. Mr. Greedly having purchased the Mini-Max just so he would have the biggest container in the hold. Using it to deliver his monster airtruck along with other equipment to get around the letter of regulations forbidding bringing new containers aboard.
Mark's mouth dropped open. The last thing he wanted was Chet's frigging family's monster box even up there, let alone right next to his Club’s. "You have got to be kidding. That monster?" Mark's mind raced as his mouth spoke without thinking.
Then Mickey said in his ears. "By your reaction Mark I believe there is some tension between you and this man. Fact is, the readings I am getting from most of the people around you suggests that there is quite a bit of animosity between them and this man. Yes. Checking the internet records. This man is head of some kind of cargo workers union. I can only surmise that since there are no other unions onboard the ship that some ports require the cargo handling crews to be unionized. Yet the truck pilots that have to actually fly the cargo to the various warehouses and factories from the port are not. I do not understand the difference but I do understand criminal behavior. The reaction of these people to this man fits the typical responses to criminal actions of Unions or any other industry that has a total monopoly with control of, or unregulated or badly regulated access to a labor force or large sums of wealth."
Mark could not believe he heard, let alone even understood what amounted to a lecture in a matter of a fraction of a second. "Daa! Tell me something that helps. Jeeesaas." Mark thought spoke.
Chet's father stepped in leaning in even closer. "Yes! Right next to yours since my boy seems to think you had something to do with my truck getting trashed, you owe me big time and this is how you are going to start paying me back for a new truck."
"What? I don't owe you shit. I am not the one that bypassed the power governor on your plasma bottle or over sped your truck's fans by two hundred percent and then cranked the blades up to full attack angle, burning the windings
and stinking up the hold." All the petty beatings and things Chet had done to him over the years came welling up in him but he still could not believe he was talking like this to this damn gorilla towering above him. Swallowing as he took a breath trying to keep from shitting his pants as his heart raced, he continued. "Hell! I wouldn't put your fricking box up next to mine if my life depended on it."
Chet's father's mouth dropped open for a fraction of a second as most of the people around them stared in disbelief. People had gotten beat up for saying less around the hold. Some had disappeared or committed suicide according to rumors. "It just may moron. Don't you know who I am or are you really as stupid as my son thinks you are?"
"Stupid talks and Stupid blames other people as Stupid is." Looking down at the man's balled up fists and the veins starting to sticking out on his neck and the brief baffled look on his face. Mark knew even if he backed down and kissed the guys ass he would still get beaten. He had tried it once in desperation when he was 8 and Chet had beaten him anyway after making him strip and humiliating him in front of everyone in ways that made him sick just thinking about. He would rather just take the beating and get it over with than give in to even this monsters demands. "I'm not the one that kicked in the side panels of your truck or broke the trim or cut the seats covers out in the shape of butts or feathered the fans and dropped it in from 20 feet up or crashed into the side of a container coming through the hatch." What everyone had told him had happened when Chet had come back only an hour after leaving the ship was all over the junk hold. "No, you have to be pretty damn stupid to do all those thing so don’t look at me."
The man drew back his hand as he took a step forward, getting ready to strike Mark as things seemed to slow down around him a little. "Mark you need to run. Now!" Mickey said.
Mark gritted his teeth and moved his right leg back, bringing up his hands in a defensive posture and bent his knees like he was taught in his Cadet Self-defense class. Scared shitless, he knew he could not outrun anyone with the crowd that had gathered blocking his retreat, not knowing how many were friendly toward this ass-hole and would go out of their way to keep him from running. Even hold him to be caught with no way to fight back as had happened before with Chet’s buddies or even defend himself from the beating with his arms pinned. But he knew that as long as he still had his glasses on with enough room to move, he stood a chance of at least warding off the first blow or two and even getting in a punch or two in before he was knocked down, his glasses stolen and beaten yet again by the man twice his size moving toward him. But he would survive and not giving into the asshole was already starting to feel good. Though he knew that it would end real fast in a matter of seconds. He suddenly remembered his idea of gluing his glasses on to keep them from being knocked off but realized he didn't have the time. The idea of asking the asshole to stop and wait while he glued his glasses to his face and how ridiculous that sounded crossed his mind making him smile.
"Ya smile boy! I am going to stuff that smile and your face into the deck until it comes out your backside."
"What the hell do you think you are doing? He is just a boy half your size." Mr. Farmer walked out of the crowd with his wife following. The farmers had gone out of their way several times when Chet and his friends had started to tear up the junk around their box trying to get into Mark and his friends Club house area. Protecting Mark and his friends from Chet and the older kids as much as they could when they were just sitting up their junk yard defenses trying to keep the box no one wanted as they had moved in. Though Mark had found out later that random older kids had used it occasionally to party. Not understanding at the time why the old ratty mattresses where scattered around or what all the long narrow nasty dirty balloons were from or for.
The guy Tom had bought the press from joined the Farmers to Marks surprise, getting between Mark and Chet's father beside the farmers. "Mark is trying to help us all instead of going out of his way trying to screw or harass us."
Mark recognized the father of the boy Chet had stolen and destroyed the toy biplane from as he walked up next to the Farmers as well. "I am sick and tired of your kids and their friends harassing and abusing everyone's kids every chance they get. Mark is trying to put together something nice up out of this shit hole and we don't need your crap family screwing it up."
Another adult walked out that Mark remembered being harassed by Chet's family but then most of the people have had run-ins with them. "Why don't you just leave? No one wants you here."
It started to get crowded in front of Mark as Mickey spoke up. "Mark, I have run across The Star Queen's cargo loading rules that state that only standard 10' wide by 8' tall cargo containers are allowed to be attached to the overhead rails of cargo decks due to weight limitations."
Others started coming out of the crowd.
"Thanks Mickey."
Mark pushed his way through, gently pushing Mr. Farmer to the side as Chet's father took a couple steps back, looking around at the growing crowd in front of him. His face turning to astonishment then disbelief and then blurted out. "Do you all know what I could do to you? I am the boss of the cargo workers union on this tub."
Mark spoke up as he saw frowns cross several of the faces around him. "Ya. We have been putting up with your crap since I can remember how to wipe my ass. The fact is attaching your damn MiniMax to the overhead rails is against ship's regulations." Mark trying to think of anyway the man could get around the ship's regulations, quickly went over what he remembered from school cargo classes and smiled again. "And if you are thinking of going to the Captain to get a waiver just for your good looks. Let me remind you that it is also against Imperial regulations as well. And since my club doesn't want to sell you our old box or any of the boxes we have purchased at scrap prices, you can just take your MiniMax and leave… Please” Mark found it hard to smile as he said please but his father had always said you had to be nice and smile at the clients while dealing with them. Especially the worst of the ass holes. Smiling politeness always says you have the upper hand weather you do or not. You just have to make the ass hole believe it. Just make sure you don’t overdo it or it could turn into or look like groveling.
"Mark. That is a lie. Imperial regulations do not specifically prohibit MiniMax's from being attached to overhead supports."
"Mickey. I did not lie. Imp. Regulations state that cargo boxes cannot be attached to overhead support systems that cannot support the maximum rated gross tonnage of the container box. The MiniMax's gross rated weight far exceeds the rails rated tonnage."
Mark turned his back to Mr. Greedly and faced the crowd. "Let me repeat. I want to thank the ones that did, for selling me your boxes cheap but I don't have a use for all of them so I am willing to sell you back your boxes for a small profit with one little caveat." Mark was starting to like the word caveat the doctor had used on him. "You have to legally agree under all circumstances including third and umpteenth parties, that you and whoever you ever sell it to will not sell your box back to this bully, Mr. Greedly and or any of his family and or associates, (Legal classes popped into his mind and knowing that there were always loop holes but he figured he would try anyway, it couldn't hurt and could slow Greedly down) or I get title of the box back and all its contents." Besides he suddenly realized that the chances of all the boxes staying up there after the Captain found out about it was somewhere near a snowballs chance in hell. But he suddenly realized that he was having a blast even if he did get killed later by Mr. Greedly and his clan or the Captain. Turning back to Mr. Greedly. “Tell you what Mr. Greedly. Just so you don’t feel left out. I will buy your box from you for what I have paid for all the others.”
“I will junk the damn thing before I sell you shit Collins. You are going to regret this.” Chet's father Mr. Greedly stomped out of the hold pushing anyone that got in his way to the deck. Most got quickly out of his way before he could. Though he did punch someone coming out of the elevator that said hi to him and had no idea what w
as going on.
Mark finished making arrangements with a large number of box owners to put them up in some kind of order stretching out from the dead zone in the hold near the catwalk ladder across toward the middle of the hold leaving a wide half container walkway between them for the ones that wanted to put up shops, taverns or restraints with another narrower shorter walkway to each side around the curved hull for people that only wanted storage containers. Mark suddenly realized they were going to need a lot of decking to put up a grated deck between the boxes along with the attaching walkways. Bringing everything to a screeching halt until everyone agreed that each owner was to pay for the decking in front of their containers out of their own pockets. Mark with Mickey's help figured up how much decking and supports that would be needed and with all the box owners clustered around he ordered one big load from a discount supply warehouse with a rushed delivery in an hour. Mickey taking payments from everyone to pay the bill in only a few minutes. It took another few minutes to iron out several other minor details but finely everyone was happy about the arrangements.
Mark was just headed for the ladder to climb back up to the tractor lift when he felt an iron claw clamp down on his shoulder.
“Boy you sure know how to screw the pooch don’t you.” The Chief Master at Arms turned him around and put his nose up against Mark’s, “Half the ship is out looking for you thinking you are laying someplace dead and I hear from my daughter that you are down here hiding with the garbage, playing Tarzan and sure enough here you are alive and well.” Dragging him out of the crowd that was starting to reassemble as the Chief talked, he headed for the elevator. “I will teach you to ignore ship's summons’s boy right after the Doctor declares you fit for punishment.”
Slowing down as he talked to himself for a few seconds he turned and looked over his shoulder side stepping. “Hey Jolleen! You drive the tractor lift. I sent you the layout on your phone. Be gentle with the monster and take your time. She’s old and won’t take any horsing around. And for Godstar’s sake be careful and don’t do anything stupid will you. And Tom, make sure you get those damn clamps locked in tight and add a spot weld to them while you are at it just to make sure in case the Gees go negative. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 30