Double Share: Solar Clipper Trader Tales

by Nathan Lowell

  “Sar, are you sure you passed your psych eval?”

  “Yes,” I said with a smile. “Lemme think about that trusting Billy part. There’s a terrible power in belief.” I looked at her for a moment, thinking hard. “Have you ever heard of South Coast shamans?”

  “I don’t get out much, sar,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Never mind.”

  “Sar, you’re a little bit spooky at times.”

  “I’m improving then, Ms. Jaxton. I used to be really spooky all the time.”

  “I haven’t known you that long, sar. May I reserve judgment?”

  “Yes, Ms. Jaxton, you may.” I chuckled, then turned and headed down the passage. “Good night, Ms. Jaxton.”

  “Good night, sar, and watch out for Billy.”

  I was still chuckling as I let myself into my stateroom. On a whim, I dug into the bottom of my grav trunk and pulled out a small cloth bag. I tossed it onto my bunk while I stripped down to ship tee and boxers. I was starting my twenty-four stans off and that meant I could sleep in if I wanted. After the last watch cycle, I was ready for a good sleep and crawled gratefully into my bunk to start the first stages of what felt like might turn into a real long nap. But before I settled, I opened the bag and pulled out seven individual bundles of cloth tied off with string. I unwrapped and examined each, weighing them in my hand for a moment before carefully re-wrapping and re-tying the strings. I put them all back in the bag, and slipped the bundle under my pillow rather than get up again.

  It was one of those perfect times. The temperature was just right. The sheets were cool and crisp on my skin but warmed as I felt the tension drain from my body. I rolled onto my side, glanced at the chrono glowing on the bulkhead: 00:42, and let my eyes close. The darkness flowed up around me and pulled me down.

  When the darkness finally receded, the chrono read 11:54. I blinked stupidly at it. In the dimness of my stateroom it was the only focus. The numbers flipped to 11:55 and a couple of heartbeats later I heard Arletta close the door of her stateroom. I heard her rummaging around. The numbers flipped to 11:56 and I heard her go into the head and run water in the sink.

  It was the running water that did it. I could have lain there, maybe drifted off again, but she ran the water and I knew that I needed to get up—traitorous bladder. Still it wasn’t urgent. Yet.

  Yawning and scratching, I rounded up fresh boxers and tee shirt, retrieved the bag of whelkies from under my pillow, and put them carefully back in the bottom of my grav trunk. I did the tug-pull-pull-tug-flip to my bunk. It wouldn’t have passed muster at the academy, but it was good enough for shipboard.

  I heard the water turn off and then a tap-tap on my door. Releasing the latch I swung it open, just as another yawn grabbed me. “Sorry, I haven’t quite woken up yet.”

  She looked at me with a quizzical expression. “You’re just getting up?”

  I nodded and blinked. My eyes were still a little bleary and I needed to use the head. “It’s my twenty four,” I said in mild protest. “I needed some beauty sleep.”

  She nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that. Mine’s tomorrow and I’m so ready you can’t imagine.”

  “Oh, I can believe it, and we aren’t even half way there yet.”

  “Don’t start counting now,” she told me with a bitter chuckle.

  “I know. I know. We still have a long way to go.”

  The trip was scheduled for sixty-two standard days. We’d been under way a little more than ten, so we had barely begun, and it was too soon to start thinking about how much was left.

  “And speaking of long way to go…?” I said.

  She took the hint with a slightly embarrassed little smile and backed out into her own stateroom. “Walk me to lunch, spacer?” she asked with a mock vamp expression on her face.

  “Sure, lemme just get a shower and some clothes on,” I said with a smile of my own.

  She grinned, spoiling the vamp-look she had working, and closed the door to the head on her side.

  It didn’t take long for me to do the needful, including a fast shower and shave. I slipped into my room and closed the head door behind me, latching it while I tossed on the fresh clothing.

  Fredi was just finishing up something on her tablet when we stepped into the wardroom. She was already halfway through a cup of coffee and smiled a welcome as we stepped in.

  “Hello, Fredi, what’s new in cargo?” I asked.

  She never talked about her work. Not surprising, I supposed, but if she were one of Captain Giggone’s cadets then there had to be a story hiding somewhere.

  She shrugged and said, “It’s all in the can.”

  It was a cargo joke. All cargo jokes were like that.

  “Doesn’t this get boring, for you?” Arletta asked. “I mean, there’s not a lot to do once we get that can strapped on, and even before. You don’t get to pick the cargoes. You don’t really get to do anything fun, do you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Being cargo chief on a bulk hauler isn’t really all that taxing, no. These bar bell designs like the Billy are made to take advantage of the regulation loophole on ship length. I’m surprised they haven’t made spherical ships, frankly,” she added with a soft chuckle.

  “Loophole?” I asked.

  “Normally, any ship carrying over a hundred and fifty metric kilotons needs both a cargo chief and a first. About twenty stanyers ago, they put a loophole in the regulations to allow bulk haulers under a hundred and fifty meters in length to get by with just a chief. Billy’s only one forty so, I’m the only member of the cargo division.”

  “Yes, but do you have any fun?” Arletta asked again.

  “Not as much as I used to,” she said with a little sigh. “But then, a few more trips and I can retire. I’m young yet, and I think I’d like to take up being a cargo broker.”

  I tried to control the expression on my face. I don’t know how well I did with it. Fredi looked like the oldest spacer I’d ever seen. As I looked at her, though, I realized that she wasn’t really all that old, just frail. I couldn’t imagine her horsing an anti-grav pallet full of canned goods around, but then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a cargo officer horse a pallet full of anything around. That’s why they had crew.

  “What do you need to be a broker?” I asked.

  “Contacts, mostly, and a sharp eye.”

  Mel came in just then and smiled fondly at Fredi. “Talking about being a broker?”

  “Yes, and don’t be an old poop,” she shot back with a fond smile of her own. “They asked. I’m answering. That’s all.”

  Mel winked at Arletta and me as she passed behind Fredi on the way to her chair.

  “Do you need a license or something?” I asked in order to keep Fredi talking. It was the most animated I’d seen her since coming aboard.

  She shook her head. “No. You need to register and get bonded with the CPJCT but that’s really only to get your name on the broker registry. After that, you have to cultivate your contacts on the planet and with the shippers, then trade and keep trading.”

  Penny Davies came in with the lunches then, and we all tucked in. It still wasn’t as good as Cookie used to make, but as baked mouta went, it wasn’t bad.

  Over coffee Mel said, “So, I understand you’re holding classes on the mess deck this afternoon, Ishmael?”

  I looked up at her and the surprise must have been on my face because she grinned. “I am?”

  Arletta said, “That’s what Ulla told me too.” She said it with a lilt in her voice that made me suspect that she hid a smirk behind her coffee cup.

  I sighed and asked, “Did she say what time I’m supposed to be holding these classes?”

  Mel answered, “14:00”

  I looked back and forth between them. “How is it you both happen to know this?”

  Arletta shrugged. “When Charlotte D’Heng told Ulla that you’d be willing to hold classes on the mess deck—”

/>   “Wait, she said what?”

  “Charlotte said that you had problems with people cluttering up the bridge while you were on watch so you’d hold classes in the mess deck instead.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Fredi and Mel were doing the “I’m so innocent” face across the table at me. Fredi’s reaction didn’t concern me, but Mel was the officer in charge of the largest division on the ship. With propulsion, power, grav, and environmental, her division made up more than half the ship’s crew.

  “What I said was that the bridge was a work space, and when we were on watch we shouldn’t have the area filled up with people who weren’t required to be there.” I pointed out in what I hoped was a reasonable voice.

  “Yes,” Arletta agreed, “and then you said you’d be willing to hold classes on the mess deck in the afternoons instead.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember what I’d said, exactly. “I’m pretty sure I only agreed to answer questions for a little while. That’s hardly what I’d call holding classes.”

  Fredi and Mel looked at each other and shrugged. “I don’t know…” Fredi said.

  “Sounds kinda like it to me,” Mel finished.

  “And how many people know about this little party?” I asked, becoming concerned.

  Well, to be honest I’d been concerned all along. It was just rising to the level of near-panic by then.

  Arletta said, “All of them, I think.” She looked to Mel.

  Mel looked at the overhead as if considering a careful response.

  “Yes,” she agreed after a couple of heartbeats. “I think all of them.”

  “Well, only people on the ship,” Fredi pointed out. “Not everybody everywhere. We’re just talking locally.”

  “Thank you, Ms. DeGrut for that clarification.” I raised my cup in mock toast.

  She returned the toast with her own mug and said, “Most welcome, Ishmael. Feel free to come to me any time.”

  “Well,” I said. “Maybe nobody will show up.”

  The three of them laughed. Loudly. It wasn’t an encouraging sound.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DIURNIA SYSTEM

  2358-JULY-20

  After lunch, I went back to my stateroom for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure what I was going to face so hiding seemed like a reasonable response. I told myself it was so I could look up the dates for the next testing, but it was really to make myself scarce. It was one thing to talk with Ms. Jaxton and Ms. D’Heng about their rating exams, and another to stand up in front of a mess deck full of people.

  As it turns out, I needn’t to have worried.

  At 14:00, fortified with the date of the next testing period displayed prominently on my tablet—and after about twenty ticks of ponderation about what they might want to know—I headed down to the mess deck to brave the crowd.

  All four of them.

  Well, five actually, but I didn’t think Apones was there to study. He sat sprawled on a chair in a corner. His scowling face tracked me across the room to the coffee pot and back to the table where Juliett, Charlotte, Ulla, and a wiper named Raymond sat.

  “Can I sit here?” I asked, indicating an empty seat at the table.

  “Of course, sar,” Ulla said. “We were waiting for you.”

  I smiled and settled with my coffee. “How can I help?” I asked, and that was really all it took.

  For the next stan and a half, they peppered me with questions. Not one of the questions had to do with the next testing date.

  We talked about the sequencing of ratings.

  It was Raymond who asked, “Why don’t I have to take them all in order, sar?”

  “That surprised me, when I heard it, too,” I said. “But the tests are set up so that if you haven’t mastered the previous material, you can’t really pass the higher test. It becomes an exercise in how far you can reach.”

  “How so, sar?”

  “If you sat for spec one power right now, what would the likely outcome be?”

  “I probably wouldn’t get it, sar,” he said with a self-conscious grin.

  “Okay, why not?”

  He shrugged. “Well, because I don’t know anything about power, sar.”

  “So, you’re studying for, what? Engineman?”

  “Yes, sar, I just started.”

  “Just started what? Studying for Engineman or being aboard the ship?”

  “Oh, studying, sar, I’m on my second contract. I did my first two stanyers on a UFH tanker. When my contract was up, I decided not to renew and got off in Diurnia. I discovered I had missed being underway, so I signed back on with DST, but didn’t have much in the way of ratings—so here I am. Thought it was about time to move up a bit, sar, just in case I have to find another job. I’ll be ready.”

  “So, you probably know your way around the engine room pretty well already,” I pointed out. “Why don’t you try for Machinist and skip Engineman?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t, sar!”

  “Why not? All you have to do is try for it. Worst case you miss. Best case, you skip a rank.”

  He looked dubious, but Charlotte D’Heng asked, “Could I do that, sar?”

  “What? Test for machinist?” I asked. “Do you know anything about engineering?”

  I did like the way she giggled—very bubbly. “No, sar, able spacer? Can I skip ordinary and go for the able spacer test?”

  “Of course. If you take the test and pass, you’re automatically granted the subordinate rates.”

  “But the tests only come around every ninety days, sar,” Juliett pointed out. “If you miss it, you have to wait another ninety days to try again for the lower rank. Wouldn’t it make more sense to take them in order to make sure you have the building blocks firmly in place?”

  “That’s why I say it’s an exercise in how far you can reach. Yes, it’s a risk and a lot of people just build the ratings in order.”

  The four of them looked at each other and then back at me. They weren’t convinced. I could see it in their faces.

  “It’s not a complete shot in the dark, you know,” I said.

  “How so, sar?” Juliett asked.

  “The study materials have practice tests included. If you get in the top five percent, you can probably pass the exam. If you don’t score more than half, you’re probably over your head. If you’re somewhere in between, then there’s a pretty good chance you can pass if you study.”

  Raymond looked thoughtful for about five heartbeats and then said, “So I can use the practice tests to see where I should be studying, sar?”

  “Precisely, Mr. Raymond. Humor me, whatever you’re thinking of studying, go to the next higher rating and try that practice test. See what you find out.”

  “But I haven’t studied that material yet, sar!” Ulla said in dismay.

  “Yes, Ms. Nart. That’s the idea. If you can get half the answers on the practice test before you even study, the probabilities are good that you could learn the other half with some judicious application of study time.”

  Juliett, ever the practical one, asked, “If this is so easy, why don’t more people do it, sar?”

  “I don’t know, Ms. Jaxton,” I admitted. “It seems the most sensible way to approach it to me, but then I’m not a spacer. My mom was an ancient lit professor.”

  At that, they all looked around the table at each other as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did.

  “Somebody said you were rated before you went to the academy, sar,” Raymond said. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, Mr. Raymond, I was rated. I took my share of the exams.”

  “How many did you take, sar?” Charlotte asked.

  I had to count on my fingers, and did so out loud. “Four half share, two full share, plus Spec two environmental and spec one systems. Eight, I think. There was a test for spec two systems, but it wasn’t a written one. Yes, I think that’s all. After four years at the academy it’s hard to remember.”

  When I looked up, t
here were four pairs of eyes bugging out at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re rated in all four divisions, sar?” Mr. Raymond finally managed to ask.

  “Well, I was, yes, but now I’m third mate.”

  Juliett slapped her hand on the table then and said, “Well!” She looked around at her cohorts and added, “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m gonna take a practice exam or two.”

  They all fumbled for tablets and started punching up content.

  “Any advice on the specialist rates, sar?” Juliett asked after working for a tick or two.

  “Spec three is really easy. It’s only a little more difficult than the divisional full share but it has the bare minimum additional information for that specialty. If you know anything about the specialty field, look at spec two,” I told her. “Drop back to spec three if you score below a fifty. Spec one is not impossible but they tend to cover nuts and bolts in spec two and teach theory in spec one.”

  “Thank you, sar. Very helpful,” she said without looking up.

  I picked up my cup and walked over to the urn for a refill. It hadn’t really been that long, but I’d gone through a lot. I watched Apones watching me out of the corner of my eye. He was not a happy spacer. I crossed to him with my full cup and nodded a greeting without attempting to sit.

  “Do you have any questions about testing, Mr. Apones? You looking to pick up another pay grade?”

  He snorted. “Yeah. I’m going for king of the world. I’ll be sure to check with ya if I decide to take the test for it.”

  “Excellent, Mr. Apones. I’m sure we’ll all be watching for that day.”

  He smirked, as if he’d somehow been funny or something, and I returned to the group.

  It took them a while to get through the practice tests. I knew from experience they could take up to a full stan but I waited.

  Ulla Nart finished first with a bright grin. She turned her tablet around to show the 74% score. I checked and she really had done the able spacer test.

  I gave her thumbs up and a smile.

  Eventually everybody finished. Charlotte D’Heng got the lowest score with a 60% against the able spacer exam.