Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper)

by Lowell, Nathan

  I sighed and finished the tasteless meal, thumbing the tab and making an exit as soon as possible.

  By 0810 we’d made it to the maintenance docks and I keyed the access code for dock three. I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but when the lock swung up, the brief wash of ship air smelled normal. I led the way up the ramp, and snapped on the lights.

  “Ugh.”

  I turned to look at Ms. Arellone. She looked about the lock, an expression of disdain on her face, her mouth screwed into a bitter grimace.

  “This is what we call a fixer-upper, Ms. Arellone.”

  “Are you sure this ship is safe, sar?”

  “Chief Gerheart said it was.”

  I heard her sigh. “Well, if the chief says it’s okay...”

  We walked into the wide cargo vestibule and peered out into the gloomy cargo bay. The lights from the brow didn’t quite light up the space, casting a dim glow partway into the hold and leaving a large black nothing beyond.

  “It looks bigger than it is, Ms. Arellone.”

  “Skipper? I don’t know how to break this to you? As a cargo hold? Let’s just say I think my cell in the brig looked bigger.”

  “She’s rated at just under ten metric kilotons, Ms. Arellone. Less than one of the Agamemnon’s cans. It doesn’t need to be too big.”

  Secretly, I shared her reservations.

  “But we have work to do, Ms. Arellone. This is going to be home for a while.”

  She sighed. “I knew it was too good to last, sar.”

  “What?”

  “Hotel living, Skipper. Those beds are wonderful.”

  I laughed and started up the ladder to the bridge. “This way, Ms. Arellone. We need to get to the bridge and get logged aboard.”

  At the top of the first ladder, I spotted a glow plate on the bulkhead and managed to get the lights on. The longitudinal corridor looked very long and exceptionally plain when viewed from the bow. The airtight door at the end seemed a long way away, but I had a good idea how quickly that distance would shrink once we got underway.

  “Did these people never clean?” Ms. Arellone muttered, her finger leaving a track in the grime on the bulkhead.

  “That’s money there, Ms. Arellone.”

  “Sar?” She looked up at me in confusion and looked at the smudge on her fingertip.

  “If this ship were clean? It would cost more.” I nodded at her finger. “Every gram of dirt is money in the bank for now.”

  “How long do we have to leave it like this, Sar?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

  “Until the engineering report gets filed, Ms. Arellone.”

  “When will that happen?”

  “I think it happened yesterday, but we’ll know soon.” I headed up the ladder to the bridge. “Let’s light a fire in the hearth, and see what we need to do to move in.”

  “Sar?” I could hear the alarm in her voice as she scampered up the ladder behind me, “Pardon my saying so, sar, but I don’t think a fire is a good idea...”

  “It’s a figure of speech, Ms. Arellone.”

  “Really, Skipper? I’ve never heard it.”

  “I’m old, Ms. Arellone. I know old stuff.”

  “Skipper, you’re not that old. Well, yes, you are but ... oh, you know what I mean, sar.”

  I gave her a fishy eyeball, and followed it with a grin. “It’s okay, Ms. Arellone.”

  There was plenty of light reflected onto the bridge from the skin of the orbital to see clearly. I sat at the main console and fired it up. It took a few ticks to get through initialization and first run diagnostics. They spooled down and ended with the “Insert Key” command.

  I pulled a datachip from the packet Ms. Kingsley had forwarded, and slotted it into the console. The device mounted, and “Key accepted” showed on the screen, blinked twice, and then the screen went blank for a heartbeat before a systems administration screen came up.

  “Okay, then.”

  “Is everything all right, Sar?”

  “Oh, yes, Ms. Arellone.” I looked up to where she stood looking over my shoulder. “I’m surprised that Ms. Kingsley was so trusting, but this should give us any access we need to take care of the ship.”

  “Trusting, Captain?”

  I nodded gazing at the console. “She’s given us the owner’s key. It’s the one that overrides the Captain.”

  “You mean, she’s given you the ship?”

  “In effect, Ms. Arellone. Other than the paperwork needed to actually transfer title, we can do anything with this ship we want.”

  “What do we want to do, Skipper?” I could hear the confusion in her voice, and I realized she didn’t quite grasp the enormity. I let it go and focused on the present.

  “We want to establish me as Captain, you as crew, and then bring up shipnet for our tablets.” I put my fingers on the dirty keyboard and started filling in the blank fields.

  “Then what, Captain?”

  “Then we start.” My answers were shortened as I focused on getting my credentials entered correctly.

  “Start what, sar?”

  I filed the changes, and the ship’s operational screens came up. Looking over my shoulder with a grin, I said, “We start making a list of things that need doing.”

  “Can we clean first, sar?”

  “As much as it pains me to say so, Ms. Arellone, no. Not until we have the engineering report filed that itemizes just how bad this ship is.”

  “You’re not planning on sleeping here, are you, sar?” The revulsion was clear in her tone.

  “Not tonight, no, Ms. Arellone.” I laughed at the look of relief on her face. “But we need to do our own survey of the ship, and see what needs doing.”

  She stood up straight and put her fists on her hips, looking around the bridge. “It does have potential, doesn’t it, Skipper?” she said after a few heartbeats.

  “I think so, Ms. Arellone, but we need to find a way to stand out in the crowd.”

  She gave me one of her exasperated looks, and bit back whatever comment might have been behind it. Instead she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, surveying the bridge once more. “Okay, Skipper. Where do we begin?”

  I pulled up my tablet and made sure it was linked to the shipnet. “Are you on the network now, Ms. Arellone?”

  She checked her connections. “Yes, sar.”

  “Okay, then, there’s a schematic under ship’s status?”

  “Got it.”

  “Now we can find our way around. I’d suggest addressing the problem systematically, starting with a visual inspection of the inside of the ship from top to bottom. It’ll be incomplete until we can get the specialists to check the tankage, but the engineering report should tell us about that.”

  “Then the outside, sar?”

  I shook my head. “Then the systems, Ms. Arellone. Data, power, gravity, air, water, sails, and keel.” I grinned at her. “Then I’ll probably put on a suit and go look outside.”

  “How long do we have to get this done, Captain?” She was eying the schematic dubiously. “This is a lot of volume for just the two of us to cover.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure, Ms. Arellone. We have a couple of weeks before Ames Jarvis makes it back to the orbital.”

  “Then what, sar?”

  “I think, when that happens, we need to be underway already.”

  Her head snapped around and I thought her eyes might bug out of her head. “Well, we best get cracking, shouldn’t we, sar?”

  “Excellent idea, Ms. Arellone.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Diurnia Orbital:

  2372-December-22

  We started on the bridge, and worked systematically through the ship doing a full inspection. We worked from compartment to compartment from the top down, from the bow aft, and from port to starboard in a deliberate sweep.

  We documented each ding, dent, stain, broken switch, and missing light panel. We noted where the grime had built up in the corners of the decks, and where
the cruft had accumulated on every surface. We looked down drains, up air vents, and inside anything with an inspection hatch—carefully noting which fasteners had stripped threads, and where the covers were sprung.

  It was slow going and we only managed to do the bridge, captain’s cabin, and galley before we had to take a break. The chrono on my tablet read nearly 1300 and it had been a long morning. The galley took the longest because of all the fixtures, appliances, storage areas, coolers, chillers, and freezers. When we finally finished that area, we collapsed on the cleanest looking seats at the long table. After dragging ourselves through the encrusted grime and crud in the storage areas of the galley, the incremental dirt at the table seemed minor. We didn’t plan on serving lunch, but needed a place to take a load off for a few ticks and compare notes.

  As we settled, carefully holding our tablets up out of the dirt, Ms. Arellone started snickering.

  “Humor, Ms. Arellone. I’m impressed.”

  “I was just thinking it wouldn’t hurt to clean the table and a couple of chairs and then I realized...” She paused and arched an eyebrow at me.

  “We have no cleaning gear?”

  “Got it the first time, Skipper.”

  I chuckled, and tried to focus on the immediate problems. “All right, Ms. Arellone, we need food. It’s been a long time since that poor excuse for a breakfast, and it’ll be a longer time still before dinner.”

  “How do you want to do it, Captain?”

  “I’m thinking we need to get off this boat for a bit, get some fresh air, a decent meal, and come back in about a stan ready to hit it again.”

  She looked around the grimy mess deck, and I saw her shudder. I knew how she felt. The thought of eating on the mess deck gave me the shudders, too. She pretended to look at her tablet while she watched me under her lowered brows. “How would you like to handle your security, sar?”

  I sighed, and smudged a hand over my skull. “Well, Ms. Arellone, I think if we just take it easy, amble along, don’t call a lot of attention to ourselves by being conspicuously on guard, we’ll be fine.”

  “And if not, Captain?”

  “Well, if somebody tries, I think they’re going to be surprised at just how sharp your claws are, Ms. Arellone.”

  “Sar?”

  “Ms. Arellone, with you playing guard dog all the time? You’re the obvious guard. Anybody who wanted to do anything to me would deal with you first, or at least at the same time. Your posture isn’t protecting either of us. It’s painting a target on your chest so the bad guys know they need to neutralize you before they can make a play for me.”

  “What are you suggesting, Skipper?”

  “You have an advantage that I think we can use to our benefit.”

  “What’s that, sar?”

  “You don’t look terribly intimidating.”

  Her eyes turned cold and she glared across the table. “And you see that as an advantage, Captain?”

  I had to give her her due. Angry as she was, she kept it in check. I smiled at her. ”That’s not an insult, Ms. Arellone. You lack the physical stature of the beefy boys, and which most people associate with intimidation. You’re not obviously armed, although I assume that you are in fact quite heavily armed.”

  “Yes, I am, but what has that got to do with not being intimidating?”

  “Please, you know what you look like. You’re a young woman of slightly shorter than average height with a nice figure on a wiry frame. Most people will look at you and think, ‘Nice girl.’ Right?”

  “Yes, sar, I suppose that’s true, but I fail to see how that’s an advantage.” She didn’t seem pleased by my assessment, but at least she stopped glaring.

  “Think of it as protective coloration, Ms. Arellone. You and I know you are quite deadly.” I paused for her to nod. “How would anybody else know by looking at you?”

  “I guess they wouldn’t, sar.”

  “So, you are a weapon hidden in plain sight, Ms. Arellone. A pretty, young woman who couldn’t possibly be a match for an assailant, and who can, therefore, be written off in the planning of any assault.”

  “Anybody who thought that would be in for a very nasty surprise, Captain. I can promise you that.”

  “Yes, Ms. Arellone. That’s precisely my point, but your effectiveness as a stealthed weapon is degraded as soon as you identify yourself as dangerous by asserting this security stance whenever we’re in public.” I paused to let it sink in a bit before continuing. “Not only is it irritating to be around, but you identify yourself as an opponent rather than blending into the scenery where you can strike without warning.”

  I could see her considering it, and I didn’t push until my stomach rumbled loud enough for her to hear it across the table. She giggled at that.

  “Okay, Skipper. What do we do?”

  “Keep alert, watch my back. I’ll watch yours. We’re captain and crew wherever we go, nothing else. I won’t make you carry my baggage, and you won’t try to out spook Adrian Alvarez. You will be at my side when it’s appropriate to be, and we will have to take a few risks in low probability environments like the offices of Larks, Simpson, and Greene.”

  I could see her thinking it over. She frowned at me but nodded slowly. “Okay, Captain, let’s see if it works.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Arellone, and please tell me in private if it causes a problem.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  “Now, can we get something to eat? This table is beginning to look appetizing.”

  “Eewww! That’s disgusting, Captain.”

  “I think so, too, Ms. Arellone, so let’s go find some real food before there’s a tragedy.”

  Before we left the ship, I trotted up to the bridge, and retrieved the owner’s key from the console. As registered captain, my keys worked on the ship as a whole, but didn’t permit me to change ownership. As I came down the ladder with it in my hand, Ms. Arellone eyed me.

  “What are you going to do with that, Skipper?”

  I thought about it for a moment, and then tossed it to her. “Put it in your pocket. And zip it closed.”

  She caught it by reflex but I thought she might drop it when she realized what I’d given her. “Me?” Her voice came out in a squeak.

  I shrugged. “Why not? We can’t leave it aboard. That’s very bad form. If somebody steals the ship, we have no key to reclaim it. We don’t have any place to store it here at the moment, and I’m the obvious choice. So, you carry it. Nobody would expect I’d trust a ship key to a pretty, young woman like you.”

  She shook her head, and slipped the small data card into the shoulder pocket on her shipsuit. A quick tug of the zipper saw it securely fastened and she even felt its outlines through the fabric.

  “Captain, I thought you didn’t bluff.”

  “I don’t, Ms. Arellone.”

  She patted the pocket at her shoulder. “Then what do you call this?”

  “Strategic misdirection.”

  She smiled at that. “All righty then, Skipper. Let’s go find some food.”

  We left the ship, secured it behind us, and headed off the maintenance docks. We went down to the oh-two deck, looking for a late lunch, but Ms. Arellone shook her head as I started for Over Easy. “You ate there yesterday, Skipper. Let’s find someplace different today. Would that be okay?”

  I granted her the point, and we strolled purposefully around the promenade until we hit the next noodle shop where I settled in for noodles, steamed vegetables, and broth. In a swarm of spacers, the only thing that made us even slightly different was that I wore captain’s stars, and was eating with an able spacer. It was just another day on the docks. Nothing too notable in the work-a-day world.

  We compared notes while we ate, and made sure we both had all the mechanical faults noted. Cleaning would be the easiest to deal with, but the mechanics would require parts and tools. We’d need to finish our inventory before we’d know what we’d need, or how much might be already available.

>   “Any chance Ms. Kingsley would send us a copy of the engineering report, sar?”

  I shrugged, and fired a query off to DST’s home office. “All she can say is, ‘No,’ I suppose, Ms. Arellone. As an interested buyer I have some prerogative in terms of acquiring known faults and flaws with the vessel.”

  “And as soon as she sends it to you, we can begin cleaning?” She had a pleading look in her eyes.

  “Perhaps not quite that soon. It’ll depend on how fast we get our own little laundry list completed.”

  She stood up, and brushed a napkin down the front of her shipsuit .“In that case, Skipper, let’s get back to it.”

  I grinned, slurped the last of my noodles out of the bowl, and followed her out. I made her stop at the chandlery on the way back, and I picked up a six-pack of water. As promised, I didn’t make her carry it as we made our way back to the ship.

  We made excellent progress in the afternoon. Picking up with the crew’s berthing areas, and passenger cabins, the operational flaws consisted of light switches, data terminals, heads, mattresses, and surfaces. Most of them were filthy. I wouldn’t have wanted to sleep on any of the mattresses, but there weren’t any obvious flaws in the mechanics of the ship.

  When we reached the aft end of first deck, we went forward again to the bow, and down to the main deck level, leaving the engine room for last. I’d seen it once, and I had a feeling it would take at least a whole day, if not specialized knowledge, to really give it a going over.

  The most complicated part of the main deck was the lock and watch station. The embargo and guest lockers stood unlatched and empty. The main lock mechanism worked very well, and we even released the lugs and exercised the big ten meter lock door that would allow fork lift access directly into the cargo bay of the ship. It was an odd sight, standing on the docks with the large door opened up all the way and seeing all the way to the back of the ship.

  “So, that’s why the console’s mounted on the bulkhead.” Ms. Arellone stood beside me admiring the gaping maw.