Double Share: Solar Clipper Trader Tales

by Nathan Lowell

  It just didn’t make sense.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DIURNIA SYSTEM

  2358-JULY-9

  After the run, I went back to my stateroom to shower. I knocked carefully and listened before going into the head. It was my second shower of the morning and I wondered if Arletta was going to think I was some kind of weirdo with all the bathing. Still, after a workout, it felt good. Even with all that, it was barely 09:30 when I was finished so I set my tablet to wake me at 11:00 and lay down on my bunk for a quick nap.

  Sleep was elusive, though. I generally didn’t have much difficulty falling asleep. I was usually so exhausted that the opportunity for a few stans sack time resulted in instant slumber. Something about being on that ship had my mind going, and it wouldn’t shut down. Maybe it was the tension. Maybe it was the smell. Maybe it was just that I was a boot third mate and in over my head.

  Maybe the captain had a point, and I was working for somebody without even knowing it. The whole idea was preposterous, but the captain had raised a lot of valid questions. Why me?

  I must have nodded off because my tablet bipped me out of a sound sleep. I slipped back into my shipsuit and, after splashing a little water on my face, slipped over to the mess deck for a cup of coffee. As I was filling the cup, Chief Vorhees came out of the galley with a grin on his face.

  “Well, the coffee is a hit. Thanks for your help.” He said, studying his boots.

  “It was my pleasure, Mr. Vorhees. I didn’t do much, though, just offered some suggestions to your excellent Ms. Cramer.”

  “Uh huh,” he said with a wry grin. “That’s the way you wanna play it, that’s fine with me, sar. You’re making me look better and I appreciate it. Anything you need, lemme know, okay? I owe ya one.”

  “Thanks, but I have to drink the coffee, too, and I’m just glad Ms. Cramer is such a quick learner.”

  “I’m serious, sar. You need anything, just call. Okay?”

  “Thanks, Mr. Vorhees. I appreciate the offer.” I raised my cup in a toast and headed for the bridge. It wasn’t time for my watch yet, but I needed to change out the removables to get ready for the next backup cycle before I relieved Mr. Burnside.

  I cleared all my backups and made it to the bridge by 11:40. Mr. Burnside looked a tad more awake, but he didn’t smell any better. Stewing in a dirty shipsuit for six stans when you weren’t too clean to begin with, wasn’t a good idea. He looked at me with one eyebrow raised as I crossed the bridge to the duty station.

  “You’re early,” he said.

  “I was in the neighborhood. Had to clear my backups.”

  “You had a busy night, looks like,” he said, waving his hand around to indicate the bridge.

  “Not so much, really. The three of us made pretty short work of it.”

  He frowned at that. “The three of you?”

  “Yeah, I had helm and the messenger up here working with me to get it shipshape and Bristol fashion.”

  “You cleaned alongside the crew?” His voice sounded flat.

  “Well, yeah,” I said, not picking up the tone until it was too late.

  He nodded toward the wing away from the helm, and we stepped over to the side of the bridge. He lowered his voice and said very precisely, “Mr. Wang, you are now an officer. You are expected to comport yourself like an officer. I know you’re fresh out of the academy, and that you’ve actually been a crewman and all, but you must learn to keep a professional distance from the crew at all times.”

  He could have hit me with a stick, and I’d have been less surprised.

  “I need to keep a ‘professional distance’ you say?” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

  “Yes, Mr. Wang—Ishmael. I’ve seen it before in new, young officers. These people are not your friends. They are your employees. You are in charge, and it weakens your position…and the position of every officer on the ship…when you stoop to doing menial tasks like cleaning the bridge.”

  He looked at me so earnestly that I realized he actually believed what he was saying. He stood there, smelling of sex and sweat and dirty uniform, and had the stones to admonish me about keeping a “professional distance” from the crew, and he was serious.

  “Thank you, David. That’s valued advice, and I appreciate your taking the time to point out the problem,” I told him with as much sincerity as I could muster through my anger.

  He seemed a bit nonplused in return. “That’s a very encouraging response, Ishmael. Most new officers don’t take that kindly to being corrected.” He smiled. “You’re going to go far on this ship, if you can keep that kind of attitude.”

  “Thank you, David. I appreciate your candor,” I said sincerely.

  I really did appreciate the candor. One of the important lessons was to know your enemy. He was giving me a lot of good information.

  Ms. Jaxton clambered up the ladder to the bridge then and interrupted our little conference.

  “Shall we relieve the watch and get on with the afternoon’s festivities?” I asked.

  Mr. Burnside nodded with a small smile. “Yes, excellent. Nothing new and we’re on course. You can have it,” he said with a wave.

  I replied formally with, “I have the watch, Mr. Burnside. Logged at 2358-July-9 at”—I had to check the chrono—“11:43 per standing order.”

  Jaxton and Mallory swapped places and the two men vacated the bridge without another word.

  “So? Any the worse for wear after your hot night on the bridge, Ms. Jaxton?” I asked her as I settled into the watch station.

  She chuckled. “None in the least, sar, although Charlotte is suddenly very popular below decks.”

  “I would have thought she was already quite popular,” I replied dryly.

  “Well, news of the three way on the bridge during the midwatch appears to have spread, sar,” she said with a lot more humor than I found in the situation.

  “How in the world has that story managed to spread so quickly? I mean I know the ship is small, and gossip spreads fast, but you were just teasing Mr. Mallory about it six stans ago.”

  “I told you he wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box, sar. Apparently he and Mr. Apones had their heads together over breakfast and they’ve come to the conclusion that we made such a mess of things up here that we had to clean the bridge entirely to hide the evidence.”

  I almost choked on my coffee. “They what?”

  “I confess,” she said with a satisfied grin. “I told them I had to clean butt prints off the glass, sar. That probably fueled the frenzy.”

  “But those prints were already there!”

  “Well yes, sar, they were. You know that. I know that. Ms. D’Heng knows that. But I think we neglected to mention that to the rest of the crew.”

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “Let me get this straight. The crew thinks that you and I and Ms. D’Heng had an orgy on watch last night? And that we spread—evidence—all over the bridge to the point where we had to clean it to hide what we’d done?”

  “Well, not all the crew, sar. Just a few of the more gullible.”

  I buried my face in my hands right there at the watch station.

  “Ms. Jaxton, did it occur to you that this little story might be giving me a reputation that I don’t really deserve?”

  “Oh, yes, sar. And you’re welcome. And may I say, sar, that I’m grateful for your gentle consideration. Thanks to being under your protection, I think I slept peacefully for the first time since I came aboard.”

  “Being under my protection?”

  “Yes, sar. The crew wouldn’t expect you to share, now would they? That puts Charlotte and me out of reach, at least until you tire of us.”

  The smugness of her tone got to me.

  “You’re enjoying this aren’t you, Ms. Jaxton?”

  “Yes, sar.”

  “You realize this whole thing is impossible?”

  “Of course, sar, but if I’d known that screwing an officer would keep t
he filthy fingers out of my bunk at night, I’d have found one long ago.”

  The smugness in her tone had been replaced by something just a bit darker, a tad more bitter. At no point had she ever turned to look at me. I sat just behind her right shoulder while she stared straight ahead.

  I just stared at her back. What could she be thinking? Was she mad?

  Then I noticed that she wore a clean shipsuit. It was the first time I’d seen any member of the crew in a fresh one since I’d been aboard. I sighed, shook my head, and checked the systems logs to make sure the environmental and engineering watches had changed on time. I did my best to focus on the task at hand. There wasn’t much I could do about the crew. I had to just focus on my job.

  At just past 12:00, Charlotte D’Heng climbed up to the bridge and relieved Ms. Jaxton for lunch. They had a murmured conversation and I pretended not to notice the rapid glances in my direction. Ms. D’Heng wore a clean shipsuit as well.

  After a few ticks, Ms. D’Heng said, “Thank you, sar, and I’m sorry if we caused you any problems.”

  I looked up and saw her looking at me over her shoulder. “Ms. D’Heng?”

  “The story, most people know it’s a joke. Only the most obnoxious believe it, sar.” She bit her lower lip uncertainly. “It just kinda got out of hand.”

  “I see,” I said, although I really didn’t.

  Or maybe I did. I tried to imagine what it would be like in the berthing area for these two women. The hands in the dark. The unwelcome attention. The pressure to just go along to get along. I found myself frowning in Ms. D’Heng’s direction, but not at her. I relaxed my expression and offered a smile.

  “Well, what’s done is done, eh? We’ll just have to see how it all shakes out over time. Maybe it’ll serve to smarten up a few people,” I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster.

  “Thanks, sar,” she said with obvious relief. “But I wouldn’t count on it adding any IQ points to the crew’s total.”

  “You’re probably right there.”

  Ms. Cramer appeared at the ladder then, carrying a covered tray. “Your lunch, sar.”

  I’d forgotten about that. Officers of the watch didn’t get relieved for meals. Their food was delivered to them. I indicated a corner of the console and she put the tray carefully on the desk. There was plenty of everything, even a small carafe of coffee and a pitcher of milk. It looked wonderful and I was hungry.

  “Thank you, Ms. Cramer.”

  “You’re very welcome, sar. You’ll need to keep your strength up,” she said with a giggle and scampered off the bridge.

  “Ms. D’Heng?”

  “She knows the truth, sar. I swear she does.”

  “I see, Ms. D’Heng.”

  I came to the full realization of just how much of a problem the whole situation was going to be.

  Within a few ticks Ms. Jaxton returned to the bridge, and took the helm watch back. I ate my lunch, keeping an eye on the displays. I tried not to get caught up in the gossip I couldn’t control. I finished my coffee and put the dishes back on the tray. It had been a good lunch, and I still had a ways to go on the watch. There wasn’t anything I needed to do, except stay on the bridge, so I brought up the educational oversight system to check the dates. The next scheduled testing period was the end of September. I checked the ship’s calendar and realized that we’d be on our way back from Breakall before that. I flagged it on my tablet so I would be reminded before the date got too close.

  On a whim, I scrolled back through the last few test sessions to see who’d taken exams. Only one person aboard had taken an exam in June. I supposed I wasn’t surprised. Philippa Ballantine, a specialist three in power, took and passed her spec two test. I wondered how long she’d be aboard if a ship needing a spec two in power posted an opening. The test was certified by the training officer, Third Mate Theresa Jaffee.

  “So, that was your name. Where did you get off to, Ms. Jaffee?” I muttered under my breath.

  “Excuse me, sar?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing, Ms. Jaxton, just talking to myself again. Sometimes I do it out loud.”

  “They tell me that’s not a symptom of insanity unless you’re surprised by your answers, sar.”

  “You’re a comfort to me, Ms. Jaxton. A real comfort.”

  “I try, sar,” she said with a smirk of her own. “I try.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DIURNIA SYSTEM

  2358-JULY-18

  We were ten days out of Diurnia before I realized that the captain never came out of the cabin. To be precise, I hadn’t seen him since we’d secured from navigation detail, and he’d taken me down for his “welcome” speech. He had never showed up in the wardroom for meals, or turned up on the bridge while I was there. I suppose he could have been out when I was asleep but somehow I doubted that.

  By comparison, I saw a lot of Mel and Fredi. They were at every meal. Mel was often on the bridge during the day, working on the engineering station there, reviewing logs, watching ship’s grav and power status, and running her own environmental checks. My favorite times were the meals where Mr. Burnside had the watch, sparing us his boorish table manners. These were the times where I could enjoy the company of Mel, Fredi, and Arletta.

  Fredi came out of her shell at those meals, looking less frail, speaking up more. She was never the center of attention, or the life of the party, but she was guilty of a wonderfully wicked sense of humor.

  “So, the captain doesn’t come out at all?” I asked over breakfast.

  Fredi made a face. “He has everything he needs delivered to the cabin.”

  “He’ll come out for the jump,” Mel commented.

  “And then scurry back into his hole when we’re on the other side,” Fredi added.

  Arletta shot me a look from the corner of her eye. “You looking for more quality time with him?”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “No, Captain Rossett made enough of an impression on me that one time.”

  “He’s not so bad,” Mel said. “At least he stays out of the way of ships operations.”

  Fredi nodded her agreement. “True. Be grateful he’s not one of those micromanaging captains,” she said. She turned to Mel and asked, “Remember…oh, what was his name? On the old Geordie?”

  Mel sat still, thinking for a heartbeat, and then said, “Oh, yes. What was his name? On the Geordan VanTassle…” She thought for a moment longer. “James…”

  “Jankowitz,” Fredi finished. “Captain Jimmy Jankowitz. That was it. The man would drive ya crazy. I swear he wanted to help the crew pick out which shipsuit to wear.”

  “As long as it’s a clean one,” I muttered.

  Arletta heard me and chuckled. “What? You think the hygiene of our crew is being compromised?”

  “Is it just me, or does anybody else find the ship to be just a bit on the whiffy side?”

  “Depends on who’s in the room with you,” Arletta said. She leaned over to sniff me dramatically. “You don’t smell too bad. Today.”

  Fredi grinned. “I’m glad I don’t have any staff to deal with. All I have to do is make sure the can is tied on securely and stays there for the whole trip.”

  Mel shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what the problem is. Getting them to do anything—from keeping the workspaces clean to putting on clean clothes. It’s ridiculous.”

  Arletta gave a sly smile in my direction and said ever so sweetly, “I notice you’ve got your girls in clean ship suits, Ishmael. Your first midwatch certainly made an impression with the crew.”

  I sighed and speared another slice of bacon from the platter.

  “They’re not my girls. They’re my watch section and I didn’t do anything. We cleaned the bridge. That’s all.”

  They all laughed.

  “I know,” Arletta said, “and they know”—she nodded at Mel and Fredi—“but Mr. Burnside is still trying to figure out how to get only women in his watch section.”

  “He�
�ll need to find some pretty beefy girls if he’s gonna replace his bully boys with women,” Mel said with a scowl.

  Fredi snorted but didn’t say anything.

  “Thanks, by the way,” I said to Arletta. “I notice that when we follow your section onto the bridge, there’s a lot less mess to clean up.”

  “Every other ship I’ve ever been on has a regular cleaning schedule,” Fredi said. “I don’t understand how this one has gone so long.”

  “It’s not in the standing orders,” Arletta pointed out. “I looked.”

  “Okay, how do we change that?” I asked.

  “What? Add it to the standing orders?” Arletta replied.

  “Well, that or just get the ship clean? I got the bridge taken care of in a single watch. If we do a quick wipe down every time we go on, and then a full sweep and swab during the mid, that would probably take care of it.”

  “So, that’s why the bridge has been so clean?” Mel said.

  “Well, after that first night, it only takes us a few ticks. One stan out of the watch and we have the rest of the time to study and read.”

  “Study?” Arletta asked. “You’ve got someone studying?”

  “Um, both of them, actually,” I admitted. “D’Heng is preparing for able spacer and Jaxton is working on ship handler.”

  Mel blinked. “You’ve been aboard ten days and you’ve got your section cleaning the bridge and studying for their ratings?”

  “Yeah, Is that bad?”

  “No! It’s excellent. But how did you do it?”

  “You didn’t hear about the orgy?” Arletta asked.

  We all laughed; I’d grown used to the twitting I was getting over that one. Arletta knew full well what happened, and that I was still a bit shocked and appalled over the whole situation. What truly disconcerted me were the requests from other women in the crew who wanted to be like my watch standers. Arletta knew about those—that shared door had gotten a lot of use—but she didn’t tease me about it. The fact that there were crew who felt like they needed that kind of protection was disconcerting enough for both of us.