Confidence Game

by Britt Ringel

  Oshiro guided the craft toward the freighter’s stern. Zanshin’s four TM-33 propulsion drives came into view. The cigar-shaped drives jutted out an additional eleven meters from the transom in a square configuration. “Both starboard drives were completely overhauled two years ago at Shui Wei. The tunnel drive was replaced back in Nine Sixty-Five with an improved Deltic Z-4.”

  “What happened to the original?” Brooke asked while examining the lines of the ship.

  Oshiro shrugged. “I don’t know.” His right hand expertly guided the shuttle onto final approach. Ahead of him, Zanshin’s hangar, located immediately above her engineering compartment, opened wide.

  Despite the shuttle’s petite size, it fit snugly inside the small hangar. The trio waited patiently in the shuttle for the hangar doors to close and the strobing red light warning of the lack of atmosphere inside the bay to extinguish. After the red light turned white, Oshiro cracked the shuttle’s portal. Brooke felt her ears pop with the pressure release.

  They left the shuttle and skirted along its side to the front of the bay. A cutout in the back of the deck provided the only access to deeper inside Zanshin via a ladder. The shuttle bay’s control panel was the only other feature in the compartment besides the myriad of markings on the deck. The lines delineated the landing/parking spot for the shuttle as well as the crew area of the bay where a containment field would secure a breathable atmosphere during operations.

  Oshiro climbed down the ladder in the cutout while Brooke eyed the panel and silently mouthed to Lochlain, “Looks good.”

  She followed Oshiro down and landed on a narrow catwalk suspended one deck above the floor of a cavernous compartment. By far the largest chamber inside the freighter, Zanshin’s two-story Engineering section housed not only the ship’s gigantic power core but also her Lapier Deltic Z-4 tunnel drive while additionally providing access to each of her four TM-33 propulsion drives. On the port side of the catwalk were the ship’s life support controls. Opposite them was a stairwell leading down to the main engineering deck.

  “Shall we start here and work our way forward?” Oshiro suggested. He waved a hand out over the rail of the catwalk. “A most impressive view, yes?” Without waiting for an answer, the salesman opened into a well-rehearsed pitch.

  One hour and twenty minutes later, the tour was complete. Like most freighters, much of Zanshin’s impressive span was empty. The vast majority of her sprawling length was dedicated to hardpoints that would secure most types of the galaxy’s standard cargo containers. Only Engineering at the stern, the cargo master’s compartment and airlock at the bow, and the bridge, living quarters and crew common rooms amidship were given attention.

  Brooke was thrilled to find the captain’s living quarters contained a luxurious, queen-sized bed along with a completely separate living room with a walk-in closet. The small living room contained a loveseat and coffee table centered in front of a large, curved viewport made from transparent alloy. The window offered an extraordinary, if currently dull, view of open space. She found the same feature in two of the three crewmember’s quarters on the same deck and matching viewports inside the ship’s mess and entertainment lounge on the main deck. It was a rarity for a starship to have such amenities given the quality of wall screens but it spoke to strong maritime traditions and Zanshin’s peaceful purpose.

  Lochlain confirmed the medical bay held both a standard med-bed and a fully functional auto-doc. Many elderly freighters had been built before the industry mandate. Seventeen meters forward of the crew common areas, down the main deck, were two of the ship’s four internal holds. The small compartments on opposite sides of the long, constricted corridor were for standard ship inventory such as food, equipment and personal gear that would not fit in the crew quarters. Oshiro explained that thirty-eight years ago, an owner had opted to convert the forward starboard hold into another standard crew living quarters. The bonus room meant that Zanshin could house either a second engineer or a dedicated cargo master. Typically, on Tuoma-class freighters, the cargo master’s responsibilities were additional duties split between the ship’s navigator and sensor positions.

  Oshiro stated that the same family had owned Zanshin for over fifty years. She had been handed down to the original captain’s daughter after his untimely demise in Shui Wei. The grief-stricken daughter had been unable to step foot inside the freighter but was also unwilling to part with the last reminder of her father, resulting in the vessel languishing in orbit for decades. Upon the daughter’s death in ‘001, the ship passed to the original owner’s granddaughter. This woman held no sentimental attachment to Zanshin and immediately put the ship up for sale. After sitting stranded in the flooded Shui Wei market for two years, Zanshin was sailed to Svea in the hopes of spurring fresh interest in a new marketplace. The result was an old ship with a rather limited sailing distance logged for her age.

  After the tour, Lochlain and Brooke split up for their respective professional assessments. Brooke thoroughly inspected each engineering component and ran automated diagnostic checks. After scrutinizing each drive and the power core systematically, she set to work on Zanshin’s life support and secondary systems.

  Lochlain started on the bridge and accomplished similar examinations at the consoles for the navigator/helmsman, the sensor/communications officer and the captain. When he had first stepped onto the bridge, he had been put off by its lack of symmetry. The captain’s console was shunted against the starboard bulkhead instead of positioned at the customary center. As he navigated the bridge, however, he found the positioning gave the tiny room the impression of a much larger compartment. By the time he completed his inspections, he had grown quite fond of the layout. The unorthodox design decision not only opened up the bridge but also allowed for a pleasing, curved command console for the captain that gave the bridge a high-end look. The panel itself was large enough to replicate almost all the other bridge controls, as well as controls from the cargo master’s compartment near the bow. The collection of redundant panels made it nearly possible to run the entire bridge from a single seat.

  Two hours after Lochlain and Brooke began their inspections, they moved to Zanshin’s cramped, two-meter by five-meter chartroom directly off the bridge. They sat around the battered chart table, stained around its perimeter with rings from years of coffee and tea cups. A single, small wall screen adorned the far end of the room flanked by two hanging pictures. The first was an artist’s sketch of a Tuoma-class freighter sailing in the deep of space. The second was a decades-old capture of an attractive young woman of Asian ancestry. Lochlain idly wondered if the picture was of one of the original owner’s kin. Oshiro was one deck below, in the ship’s mess on the main deck, ostensibly preparing tea but in reality giving his prospective buyers privacy to discuss their findings.

  “Do we know what ‘zanshin’ means in English?” Lochlain asked as he sorted his notes on his datapad.

  “I did a standard translation search and the top result I got was ‘remaining mind,’” Brooke answered. “I looked that up and I think it means a sort of state of relaxed awareness.”

  “That’s not terrible,” Lochlain judged. “Not a bad mental state for captaining a ship.”

  “The shuttle is an obvious replacement and was never named,” Brooke added off-handedly. “It just has a tail number, N6011T.” She studied her notes. “Her strange name aside, what do you think of this Tuoma?”

  Lochlain scanned his own summaries. “I have quite a few little things, like the nav computer seems a bit hinky and needs a starchart update. The current maps are only good for the CCZ and the coreward sector of the Federation but I didn’t find anything significant with the systems relating to the deck crew.” He made a check symbol with his finger on the screen. “Cargo master equipment looks good and the diagnostics say the container hardpoints are functional although I could only inspect them via the outboard loading cameras.” A second check was made on the datapad. “I cycled the airlock at the bow to
test it. It worked. The lifepod on the sub-deck checks out.” A third and fourth checkmark. “The steward’s and medical equipment in the common areas work. That auto-doc is only thirty-two years old.” He looked at Brooke with an approving smile. “I have to admit that this ship seems to be as good as advertised.”

  Brooke ran a finger over her screen and flicked it toward Lochlain’s datapad. His datapad flashed with the update and her notes appeared on his screen. “He was right about the starboard drives,” Brooke stated as she took over the review. “They’ll be running long after we’ve sold the ship.” She made a distasteful expression. “The port engines are still originals and will need a lot of maintenance. Bow thrusters are solid and so are the ones on the new drives but the port drive thrusters came with those engines and I think one of them is already starting to go.” She swiped a finger over her datapad screen and continued to read. “Power core is sound though old. The fuel cells hold their charge but are only at eighty-three percent. I don’t know if that’s their new upper limit or if they just haven’t been charged since she was parked. The tunnel drive is only thirty-eight years old and looks okay.” She flipped through several pages of her notes. “All the diagnostics were in the green,” she mumbled, then stopped at her life support notes. “The overall life support system is good. Gravity field generators check out and inertial compensators are actually better than On Margin’s were but somewhere along the line, the environmental system got swapped out to a canister-based configuration.”

  “I’ve never been on a ship with those,” Lochlain noted.

  “It just means we’ll have a very distinct window on when our life support shuts down,” Brooke explained. “It’s good in a sense that we’ll know almost to the minute when our life support will stop filtering the atmosphere, but it’s bad in that we’d have no way to extend the window.”

  “We could still use oxygen candles during emergencies, right?”

  Brooke nodded. “Of course. We just can’t coax the actual system to last longer because when the canisters are shot, they’re shot. Frankly, they’ll require a lot less maintenance. Maybe that’s why they made the switch. The system is a Humex design and the canisters are widely available and not too expensive.” She locked her datapad and placed it on the chart table. She ran a hand over one of the gouges on the surface. “Overall, the engineering systems on this ship are as expected or better. I can single-hand Engineering, at least for a while, although with those aging port drives, I’d like that bonus room to be an engineer’s mate billet.” Lochlain waved a hand at her, indicating it was her choice to make.

  “What I’d actually like to do,” Brooke continued, “is convert the other forward hold into extra crew space as well and have a second engineer and a cargo master. One of the two aft, internal holds is being used as the ship’s storeroom which leaves us only a single, empty hold but they’re small anyway and our profit will come from the containers on the hardpoints.”

  “We can talk about conversion later. I can do the cargo master’s job for now, Mercer,” Lochlain assured. “It’s a pain but we’ll save credits that way.”

  “So, Zanshin is mechanically sound,” Brooke summarized while continuing to stroke the synthetic edge of the battered table. Its surface screen currently displayed a system view of Svea although controls at the head of the table could change the image to any chart loaded into the nav computer. She brought her hand to rest at a chipped corner and lifted an eyebrow toward the ceiling. “Is she economically sound? Could we turn a profit on her?”

  “She has hardpoints for eleven intermodal cargo containers,” Lochlain stated professorially. “Five spots fore and six spots aft. Because the containers attach laterally, Zanshin can accommodate any length of container… they’ll just stick out from her sides more. So, we could carry as many as eleven FUES containers per run.” He leaned back into his timeworn chair and crossed his arms. “That’s a lot of cargo for such a small ship. The limiting factor is our range more than our ability to carry goods. A Lapier Deltic tunnel drive pulls out, what, eight percent of the fuel cells per dive?”

  “About that,” Brooke replied, “although the Z-4 is a little more efficient. Either way, between the tunnel drive and four, power-hungry Thirty-threes, we’re looking at between eight and ten dives before we’re going to need to recharge. That’s only four or five star systems.”

  “On Margin could go ten.” Lochlain’s lips became a thin, firm line as he stared at Brooke.

  “There’s always going to be a compromise,” Brooke accepted with a fatal resignation. “Small ship combined with complicated automated systems mean limited fuel capacity and lots of power required to run it.” She licked her lips. “This is still our best bet given what’s available in Svea.” Her hazel eyes peered at Lochlain for several, silent seconds. Finally, her voice turned foreboding. “And we’re running out of time. How’s our crew coming?”

  Lochlain pecked on the surface of his datapad, bringing up the Appiation Sailing Association’s course information. He spent several minutes navigating through the material. “We can make it work,” he finally announced after internal deliberation. A smile finally erupted from that thin line. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 6

  Oshiro placed the full teacups in front of his prospective buyers with great care. “Have you made a decision?” he asked with tempered optimism.

  “Thank you, Mr. Oshiro,” Brooke said as she took the cup and drank greedily. The tea leaves originated from Shui Wei and the flavor was superb. “I have.” She gently settled her cup onto its saucer and flashed an offer to the sales agent while saying, “She is a wonderful ship although we’ve noticed some deficiencies that will cost us credits if we purchase her. For example, are the fuel cells capped in the low eighties?”

  Before looking at the figure, Oshiro confirmed the observation remorsefully. “Regrettably so, Miss Brooke. They still hold a charge that is above the industry minimum though.” His dark eyes dropped to his datapad and his fingers rapidly went to work on the screen. “That is a most generous offer. Perhaps we can agree to meet here.” A finger flick returned a counteroffer.

  Brooke scanned her screen: 268,500,000 credits. She smiled and trimmed the figure down to 260,000,000. “I was going to ask you to energize the fuel cells to increase their capacity, pay for a standard maintenance cycle on both port engines and I noticed that the shuttle inspection date is coming up shortly. I’ll forgo all of those items and take her ‘as is’ if we can agree to this amount.”

  “Tengying favors a shrewd consumer, Miss Brooke.” The man bowed his head slightly before reaching his hand across the table. “We have an agreement. How will you be paying?”

  “Standard credit transfer balance,” Brooke answered nonchalantly.

  Oshiro frowned marginally. “That is unfortunate. Tengying will put a hold on the funds for at least twenty-four hours before I gain access to the payment. Perhaps we should let the credit transfer flow before the title switch.”

  Brooke shook her head in protest. “It was your decision to sell this ship in Svea, Mr. Oshiro,” she stated, deliberately letting a note of irritation creep into her voice. “You accepted that inconvenience when you made it. We’re offering you valid, legal credit tender for title right now.” She crossed her arms in a light display of defiance. “I expect title as soon as I transfer the funds. I have plans for this ship that begin tomorrow morning.” With brow furrowed, she dressed herself in her most irritated CBP scowl. “You’re not suggesting that I’m trying to cheat you, are you?”

  Oshiro’s complexion darkened and a nervous smile appeared on the man’s face. “Of course not, Miss Brooke. Your credit check is impeccable, as is your standing with your corporation. I offer many apologies if I have slighted you.” He spoke rapidly as he backtracked. “You are correct. The delay is merely an annoyance that I, alone, must suffer. We have our agreement.”

  Brooke’s frown evaporated between eye blinks. She bounced lightly in her seat
. “Superb. Let’s finish the process so tonight can be the first night of my life as a ship owner.”

  * * *

  Zanshin’s shuttle spent under two minutes at the Capeland City spaceport before lifting off once again. Lochlain merged into the designated airway that would take them to Streasskogan. As they raced away from Svea’s capital and into the darkness, he hummed quietly to himself.

  Brooke waited patiently until nearly halfway through their journey. “Now is the time you tell me about your great idea to get us a free crew,” she prompted.

  “I really do have one,” Lochlain answered defensively. His right hand rested lazily on the throttle. His left twitched with minute adjustments on the control stick. While in an atmosphere, the tiny craft handled more like an aircar than a space-capable vessel. “I’m just still trying to work out the timing.”

  “Uh, that would be less than twenty-four hours,” Brooke reminded him. “I bet Lunde will start pinging us tomorrow morning when he wakes up and finds On Margin is still impounded.” She began to pick at a fingernail from the copilot’s seat. “Is this crew friends of yours?”

  Lochlain barked a short laugh. “All my friends are in Vosstäder Correctional and the rest of Larsson’s people who are willing to talk to me want to do it with slug throwers.”

  “Wow, then your plan must be really amazing.”

  Lochlain engaged the autopilot and released the shuttle’s controls. He dug into his trousers for his datapad. Once recovered, he unlocked the screen and handed it to Brooke. “Ta da,” he said with mock enthusiasm.

  The screen held the course listings for the ASA certification classes. Rather than let Brooke connect the dots on her own, Lochlain started his explanation. “Before you get a preliminary merchant’s certification, you have to log at least eighty hours of practical experience on a vessel.”