We rose with her.
Pip cleared his throat. “You know even if we get this ship, we’re probably going to do some unusual things with it?”
She laughed loud enough to draw the attention of diners on the other side of the room. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” With a nod to each of us, she sailed out of the O Club leaving Pip and me standing by the table.
“That was ...” I ran out of steam.
“Different?” Pip suggested.
“At least.”
“Unexpected?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
“Strange?”
I nodded. “Yes. Almost as strange as the question Sifu Newmar asked me the other day.”
“Purple?” he asked.
“Now you’re just trying to see if I’m paying attention.”
We headed for the door, threading our way through a room full of smiling faces, most of whom seemed to know Pip well enough to nod to.
Outside, I said, “You’ve a lot of fans.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure about the fan part, but a few people know me. Most of them were here for the conference. There’s an astrophysics seminar next week, so they’re probably staying around.”
“We still don’t have a name,” I said.
“You’re not going to start with the punny names again, are you?” he asked as we sauntered down the path to the cottages.
“I can’t promise, but you go first.”
“Secured Hauling,” he said after a moment of biting his lip.
“Cans to Go.”
He gave me a look. “Seriously?”
“Don’t judge. We’re brainstorming.”
He rolled his eyes. “Two Guys and a Ship.”
“There’s more than two of us.”
“Don’t judge,” he said, with a smirk.
“Deep Space Transport.”
“Deep Dark Transportation.”
“Bulk Freight,” I said.
He thought for a few more moments. “I got nothing.”
I sighed. “Me either.”
“Brick on a Stick,” he said.
“Interstellar Transport Services.”
He looked at me. “ITS?”
“Is there one?”
“We’d have to check the registry, but we could do worse. It’s kinda generic.”
“True, but it’s your turn.”
“Speedy Delivery.”
I groaned.
“No judging,” he said.
“Yoyodyne.”
“Wait, I’ve heard of that, haven’t I?” Pip asked.
“You read much twentieth-century English lit?”
“No. Do you?”
“Not lately. That’s where it’s from.”
“Huh.”
At the cottages, we split up. Pip went to make an appointment with one of the local lawyers and check in with his captain. I went to try to finish pruning.
I knew Pip would succeed in his tasks.
I wasn’t so sure about me.
Chapter Thirteen
Port Newmar:
2374, June 7
Being in the studio alone felt odd. Not quite wrong, but without the life that Sifu Newmar brought. I hit the floor at 0600 and ran through a few iterations of Wu Long alternating with a variation on Yang Short that emphasized leg strength. I still had trouble with lifting myself to Rooster Stands on One Leg after Snake Creeps Down. I either cheated it on the Down or trembled when pushing myself back up on one leg.
After three or four passes, my muscles said “No more.”
I was doing something wrong, or I really needed to spend some time toning up the femoral muscles. Massaging them with the heels of my hands, I suspected it might be some of each.
My tablet bipped and I pulled up a message from Pip.
“Lawyer appointment. 1000 in town.”
I acknowledged and shut down the studio. I didn’t know if anybody else would use it, but I left it in good order, just in case.
It didn’t take long for me to get back to my cottage, get cleaned up, slip into some civvies, and meet Pip.
“Any word from your father?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet. Message may not have found him yet, or he’s taking it up with the family council.”
We caught the 0915 shuttle from campus to town and skidded into the lawyer’s lobby with five ticks to spare.
“Glad we didn’t miss that one,” Pip said out of the corner of his mouth as we pushed through the office doors.
The lawyer, one Krista D. Ball, Esq., ran a posh operation. The receptionist showed us to a small conference room just off the lobby. “Ms. Ball will be with you in a moment, gentlemen. Can I offer you refreshment? Water? Coffee? Soft drink?”
“Nothing for me, thanks.” I was always leery of drinking free coffee.
“I’m good,” Pip said.
She slipped out of the room and we took chairs on opposite sides of the head of the table.
At the stroke of 1000, Ms. Ball sailed in trailed by an assistant wearing a conservative business suit that looked like it had been tailored for him. Long habit had both of us on our feet before the door hushed closed behind her. “Gentlemen,” she said. “It’s always a pleasure to work with officers.”
Pip and I looked at each other’s civvies and then back at Ms. Ball.
“Alys doesn’t send many crewmen my way.” She smiled. “She speaks highly of you but I can’t help wondering what she found funny. Please. Sit.” When we sat and left her the seat at the head of the table, she paused. She took it but only after I watched her weigh the other possibilities. Her assistant took a seat away from the table, near the door. “How can I help you?”
“We’re going into business together and would like to incorporate,” Pip said.
“Easily done,” she said with a small frown. “It’s generally a simple transaction. Why do you believe you need my services?”
Pip took a deep breath. “Well, maybe we don’t, but neither of us is up on admiralty trade law, and the CPJCT can be finicky when it comes to who owns what and what they do with it.”
I saw her lips twitch as if suppressing a smile. “Indeed,” she said. “Perhaps you can give me a better understanding of what you’re planning?”
I waved at Pip. “You’re better at this.”
“We’re forming a corporation to test the viability of an economic model of trade when applied to non-diversified cargo carriers.”
Ms. Ball’s eyebrows shot up and then lowered in a frown of concentration. “So, you’re going to do what in terms of business activity? Buy a bulk freighter and experiment?”
In all the time I’d known him, I couldn’t remember Pip ever being speechless. His mouth just opened and closed a couple of times before he closed it, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Actually. Yes.”
“Very well, then,” she said. “You haven’t purchased the vessel yet, have you?”
“No. It’s going up for auction in a few weeks. We want to be incorporated so we buy the vessel in the corporation’s name.”
She made a little “mmm” sound and nodded. “Good plan. Not required but probably cleaner that way. How’s your capitalization? I assume you’re planning to keep this a private corporation?”
“Private. Yes. We’ve pooled our resources. I’m representing Carstairs, Ltd.’s share and will sit on the board as their representative.”
“Carstairs, Ltd.?”
“Family company. We run a fast packet fleet based in Dunsany Roads but serving most of the Western Annex.”
“You have documentation certifying you’re the authorized agent of record for this transaction?”
“Yes and no,” Pip said.
She raised one perfect eyebrow. “Please elaborate.”
“I came here to speak at the economic modeling symposium at the academy. My father granted authorization to bid on the vessel leaving Dunsany. When I came here, the plan was for me to purchase the ship for the family
.”
“Not form your own, independent, company,” she said.
“Correct.”
She turned to me. “You must be Captain Wang.”
“I am.”
“What part do you play in our little drama?” From anyone else it might have sounded snotty.
“Mr. Carstairs planned to hire me to be the captain of his ship.”
“You’re rated for operating this vessel?”
“I am.”
“How did this change from being a simple contract for hire to a partnership?”
“I refused his offer and offered a partnership instead.”
“May I ask why?”
“His capitalization wasn’t enough to obtain the ship and put it in spaceworthy condition. His estimates of cost were too low, and he relied on the engineering reports in the prospectus to ascertain the vessel’s readiness.”
She looked to Pip. “How much were you authorized for?”
“A hundred and ten million credits.”
“What kind of ship is it?”
“Unwin Barbell design. Two hundred metric kilotons.”
She swiveled her head toward the assistant. “Alexander?”
“New from the yard, over a billion depending on fittings. There are three used in Venitz. The lowest is four hundred million, but needs new fusactors. Scrap price around one hundred fifty mill depending on salvageable fittings.”
“Thank you, Alexander.” She looked to Pip again. “What made you think you’d be able to get the vessel for so little?”
“The auction has failed twice and the terms have changed from sealed best bid to open auction. The reserve has also been lowered.”
Ms. Ball hadn’t been terribly animated to begin with, but she seemed to freeze in place at Pip’s words. She stared at him for several heartbeats and then looked at me. “You’re going for the Chernyakova.”
“You know of it?” I asked.
“It’s been the talk of legal circles around the Annex for months.”
“Does that make a difference?” Pip asked.
She sat up in her chair a bit and gave her head a little shake. “No. It’s just one of those odd coincidences.” She tilted her head and said, “Alexander?”
“Open point on Captain Wang’s involvement.”
“Thank you.” She turned to me. “You said Mr. Carstairs relied on the engineering reports for his estimates.”
“Yes.”
“You have special knowledge of the vessel?”
“I do. I commanded the salvage crew that flew the ship to Breakall.”
Her eyes grew slightly wider at that. “Your captain filed the salvage claim for Diurnia Salvage and Transport?”
“She did.”
“So you were aboard when ...?”
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat before speaking again. “Your contribution to the partnership?”
“I hold a master’s license with appropriate certifications for that vessel and a hundred and twenty million credits to augment the capitalization fund.”
Her head twitched just slightly. “And who provided those credits?”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “They’re mine.”
She gave me a small smile. “Mr. Carstairs represents his family’s interest with his contribution. You’re telling me, you—personally—have a hundred and twenty million?” Her eyebrows told a tale of skepticism that amused me greatly.
“I have more than that, but I’m only committing a hundred and twenty.”
She stared at me, her careful mask slipping as her brain tried to process. Her head turned, ever so slowly but her eyes never left mine. “Alexander?”
“Captain Ishmael Horatio Wang. Class of ’58. Employed by Diurnia Salvage and Transport until December, 2372, when he left to form his own company, Icarus. Earlier this year he sold the company and all its assets to Diurnia Salvage and Transport for an undisclosed amount. His estimated net worth is in excess of a hundred and fifty million credits.”
Pip looked at me across the polished table. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
I shrugged. “I like to have a bit in reserve.”
Ms. Ball’s lips curved into an O as if she might be going to say something, but she closed her mouth without speaking. She stared at me for several long moments and then looked to Pip, who simply shrugged and grinned. Her head nodded, just a little bit up and down. She took a deep breath and then blew it out. “Well,” she said. “Now I know what Alys found so funny.” She took another deep breath. “All right, gentlemen. I apologize. Commandant Giggone sandbagged me with you two. I’ll owe her for that. I’m not used to people coming in here with even half a plan, let alone some idea of adequate financing.”
We both shrugged.
“We’re kinda new to this, too,” Pip said. “He’s done it once on his own but this is our first partnership and to my mind, it seems more complicated than signing a form and moving on.”
“Yes, I think you’re right. Between your family’s interests and Captain Wang’s involvement, this should get pretty gnarly.” She paused then and looked to me. “Wait. You commanded the salvage team?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll get a portion of the proceeds?”
“My share is ten percent.”
“Net or gross?”
“Gross, I think, but it’s all tied up with DST’s legal team.”
Pip stared at me. “So, whatever we bid? You’ll get ten percent of it back?”
I grinned. “I like to have a little bit in reserve.”
“You sneaky son of a beachcomber.”
“I try.”
“Gentlemen?” Ms. Ball said. She folded her hands together on the table in front of her. “How can I help?”
“We need a partnership agreement so we can incorporate to push this crazy project forward. We’re going to buy that ship—or rent one if we can’t win it—and start hauling freight.”
“Very good,” she said. “Have you given any thought to shares? Share values? Terms for things like board of directors? Who’ll be CEO, chairman?”
Pip nodded. “Yes. I can send you our notes, if you like?”
She looked at Pip. “Of course. You have notes.” She said it with a kind of lilt in her voice that sounded suspiciously like it contained the unspoken words “How cute.” She cocked her head. “Alexander?”
“If you could beam those to me, Mr. Carstairs?” He held up a small tablet. “Secure link. Pin 1066.”
“Battle of Hastings,” I said without thinking.
He blinked at me.
“My mother was an ancient lit professor back on Neris. I learned a lot of extraneous history.”
“Sent,” Pip said.
Alexander looked down at his device and started flipping pages. He kept flipping long enough that Ms. Ball turned her head again. “Alexander?”
“Ma’am, we’ll need a day to go through this and see if there are any conflicts or internal inconsistencies.”
She spun in her chair to watch him flipping pages. “What?”
Alexander’s cheeks puffed up as he flipped and flipped and flipped. “I’ve got terms, conditions, clauses for dissolution, expansion, bankruptcy, buyout, death of principal partner. Oh, a nondisclosure agreement?”
Pip shrugged. “Seemed prudent.”
“Do you expect us to sign it?” Ms. Ball asked.
“Oh, no,” Pip said. “That’s for members of the board and anybody else with inside information on the operational details of our company. We expect you to respect attorney-client privilege.”
Alexander made a sound that reminded me of a laugh but wasn’t quite there.
“So, Ms. Ball?” I asked. “Would you be able to help us? We’ll offer a retainer for your services as corporate counsel.”
“It’s in here,” Alexander offered without being asked.
“I don’t know, Captain Wang. We can certainly help you with your immediate needs but being on retain
er is—”
“Ma’am?” Alexander said.
She turned to look at him, red climbing up the back of her neck. “Yes?”
He nodded, very deliberately.
“Thank you, Captain. Yes, I think we can do business,” she said, twirling her chair back to face us.
Pip grinned. “Now you know why Alys was laughing,” he said.
She grinned back at him. “Alexander? Have Rosalind clear my calendar for today. Grab a couple of those bright faces in the back and let’s see if we can get something done.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have Rosalind clear your calendar for the rest of the week and bring in Robert and Virginia to help sort through this.”
She turned to look at him.
He held up his tablet and shrugged, a “trust me” look on his face.
Ms. Ball chuckled and slapped the table once lightly. “Yes, Mr. Carstairs. Now I know.” She addressed Alexander. “Don’t just sit there. We’ve work to do.”
He grinned and scooted out the door.
Ms. Ball turned back to us. “There’s the matter of clear title to the funds, Mr. Carstairs. What were the terms of your agency?”
“Durable power of attorney for all purposes related to the auction and acquisition of the Chernyakova. Letter of credit in the amount of one hundred ten million credits for deposit in escrow at the bank of record on Breakall.”
“Are you a lawyer, Mr. Carstairs?” she asked.
“Cargo master.”
“Of course.” She pondered. “That might be a problem. While the power of attorney gives you access to the funds, it’s earmarked for a specific purpose.”
“I’ve messaged my father for instructions and amended documentation.”
“When do you expect a response?”
“Any time now. He should have had the message yesterday or the day before.”
“What if he doesn’t approve?”
“We have a Plan B,” he said.
“Of course,” she said. “Was that in the notes you sent to Alexander?”
“Of course,” he said.
Chapter Fourteen
Port Newmar:
2374, June 7
Ms. Ball and her team proved to be quite effective in handling our needs, offering several suggestions on clauses we’d missed and ways to streamline some of the things we’d taken notes on. It helped that Pip and I had seen our share of contracts over the stanyers. Much of the incorporation stuff looked familiar from when I’d formed Icarus, and Pip had seen a lot of partnership agreements because Carstairs Ltd. had arrangements with several other small haulers around the Western Annex.
In Ashes Born (A Seeker's Tale From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 10