by Dan Thompson
He approached and recognized her. The name patch reading S. Carson confirmed it. This was the same stern lady whom he had dealt with almost a year before. She looked up from her tablet and stared at him for a moment. “I remember you. You looked better without the whiskers.”
Michael ran his hand over his goatee. It was not yet as full as he wanted it, but it was getting there. “I remember you as well. I was with the Heavy Heinrich then, and I think I was out doing runner duty.”
She nodded slowly. “And now you’re not.”
“That’s right. I have my own ship now.” He did what he could with his neck to show off the captain’s star on his collar. “And I’m a captain.”
She stared at him blankly. “Good for you.”
Michael stared back at her. If anything, she had grown even more stubborn. “So I was wondering if Lena Marcellus was still serving aboard the Hamilton James.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, but it’s against—”
“Against ship policy to give out that information,” he finished for her. “Yeah, I remember. I had hoped perhaps she had mentioned me, Michael Fletcher.”
“Yes, she mentioned you. She also told me how you lied to her to track down the captain.”
Michael swallowed more than his pride. “Yes, ma’am. I did lie to her, and with your captain’s help, I went and apologized to her. I would like to think that we parted ways as friends.”
“And perhaps you did,” she replied, “but you never apologized to me for the same offense.”
“But you never told me…”
She leaned forward. “Just because I didn’t fall for your lie doesn’t mean you didn’t tell it.”
Michael sighed and bowed his head. Then, in one smooth motion, he knelt down on one knee and put both his hands over his heart. “Then I, Michael Fletcher, do humbly apologize for—”
She cut him off with a whack to his head with her tablet. “Stand up, boy. You look like a damned fool.”
He stood with a smirk on his face. “But I do apologize. I was convinced I had good reasons, but that doesn’t excuse it.”
She looked up at him and crossed her arms. “Well, she said I could give you a hard time if I ever saw you again, and I suppose I’ve done it now. Yeah, she’s still on the crew.”
He grew about an inch in height. “Can I see her?”
The old woman looked to her right and then to her left before finally bringing her gaze back to Michael. “I don’t know, Captain Fletcher, can you?”
He could not help but chuckle. “No, I suppose I can’t, but I would very much like to. Will you pass along a message to her that I would like to see her?”
“Yes,” she said at last. “I believe I will. Will you be on your ship?”
“No, I … there’s another ship in port, and I want to touch base with some of her crew.”
“Oh? Shall I tell Lena that she is not the only person you would very much like to see?”
His eyes went wide. “No! No, not like that. It’s the Lucky Ludwig with Schneider & Williams, and after serving on the Heavy Heinrich, I figure I should stop in and say hello. I’ve probably got a second or third cousin on board. That’s all. No old flames. No new flames, either. Only family.”
She seemed satisfied. “So where should I send her?”
“Um, well, she can certainly contact my ship—that’s the Sophie’s Grace—and they’ll forward her to my link, but if she wants to come directly, I’ll probably be at the Hopping Hole up on ring three. The last I heard, they had the S&W account here at Ballison.”
She nodded. “Sophie’s Grace or Hopping Hole … got it.”
He looked at her, but she made no move to make any calls. He looked up the ramp to the docking tube. “I don’t suppose … is she on board?”
Again came the sigh. “I’m sorry, but it’s against ship policy—”
Michael held up his hands. “I know, I know. Sorry I asked.” He took a step back and gave a slight bow. “Thank you, Miss Carson, for passing along my message to Lena.”
The woman nodded. “All right, but you’d better be good to her this time.”
He took another step back. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
All he got was another glare, but as he turned to leave, he could hear her laughing.
Celeste Davies found her in the gym, using the weight machines. “The Sophie’s Grace has docked,” she told her. “The port registry posted it a few minutes ago.”
The Lady slowly released her bicep curl, allowing the cable to retract back into the machine. “No other word?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, not surprising. My man will have to check in with the local mail drops before he’ll make contact, but I should hear from him by tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you to pass the word that liberty ends in sixty hours.”
Davies shifted from one foot to the other. Usually, it was Captain Gallows who set the liberty schedule. “Is that what you want to do, ma’am?”
The Lady smiled at her. “I understand you’re in a difficult position, Miss Davies. Can you inform your captain that I want to end liberty in sixty hours? It looks like our target keeps with a three- to three-and-a-half-day turnaround. I want to be fully prepped and ready to pull out right after they do.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will pass that along to the captain.”
“And you tell me right away if you run into any difficulties.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
“You’re a good officer, Davies. I wish we had more like you.”
Michael took a few minutes to call the Guild office and made a dinner reservation for six at nineteen hundred hours. “It’s something of a crew celebration,” he told them, “so I’d like a window table if possible.”
“Certainly, sir, though we do have a private room available for an additional two hundred. Would the captain prefer that?”
He considered it briefly but decided against it. He actually liked the idea of sitting out among the other captains and officers. It gave him the chance to show off his crew as well as make it clear to the crew how elite the crowd was. “No, thank you,” he said. “I’d rather stay in the main dining hall.”
He headed up to the Hopping Hole next. As he approached, he saw a couple of the Ludwig’s crew emerge and go in the opposite direction. He tried to wave to them, but they did not recognize him or his uniform. He shrugged it off. At least that told him he had been right to look for the crew here.
The bouncer at the door looked familiar, and when Michael reached him, there was instant mutual recognition. “Look,” the man said, “I don’t want any trouble. You and whoever you want are welcome inside.”
Michael smiled. Even without the S&W uniform, it was nice to know he had left that kind of impression. In truth, he knew it was Gabrielle who had made her mark, but he was willing to ignore that for now. “That’s nice to know,” he replied and headed through the doors.
The inside was a sea of blue and gray, with Ludwig personnel crowded around the bar and clustered at various tables. He looked around for familiar faces, but did not expect to find any. He started walking toward the bar when a voice called out, “Michael!”
He turned and saw her at one of the booths. “Lena!” he called back and started her way, but before he got there, a massive torso stepped into his way. Michael looked up into a drunken grin.
“Well, well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a Heavy Heiny,” the man roared.
“What?” Michael squeaked.
“I remember you,” the man went on. “You’re Gabrielle’s long-lost cousin or something.” He looked down at Michael’s uniform. “But you’re not a Heiny anymore?”
Michael shook his head. The man obviously knew him, but Michael did not remember him from the Heinrich crew. And yes, Michael remembered each and every one of the Heinrich’s crew. They had made sure of it. “No,” he said at last. “I have my own ship now.”
“But not S&W?” the man blubb
ered, almost as though his feelings were hurt. That was when Michael realized when he had met the man.
“Hey,” Michael said, “I thought you were a Windy Windbag.” The crew of the various S&W ships all had unofficial names for each other’s ships. They had always seemed derogatory, but they had always been spoken with affection. A year before, he had met the crew of Heinrich’s sister ship, the Windy Wilhelm, in this very bar.
“I was, but now I’m a Lucky Lugnut!” he roared, invoking cheers from the rest of the bar. A few of them wandered over.
Lena was peering in at the spectacle from a discreet distance. Michael gave her a little wave and returned his gaze to the giant before him. He stuck out his hand. “Glad to meet you and the rest of you Lucky Lugnuts,” he said in a clear voice. “I’m Michael Fletcher, captain of the Sophie’s Grace.”
“And I’m Walter Bergstrom,” the giant replied and pulled Michael into a crushing embrace. “Hey everybody,” he called out. “We’ve got ourselves a captain!”
“Captain buys a round!” the chorus cheered.
“No, no, he’s not with S&W anymore,” came a woman’s voice. “So he’s off the hook.”
There was a disappointed groan from the rest of the crew, but the sound slid smoothly back into the general raucous that had ruled before. Walter released Michael, and he found himself presented with another woman holding out her arms. “I’m Helga Weiss,” she said and pulled him into a gentle hug. “Your grandfather was my dad’s uncle by marriage, so that makes us second cousins or something.”
She released him, and he glanced around trying to find Lena again who seemed to be drifting further off. Helga followed his gaze and found her. She waved to the girl and turned to Michael. “So, call your friend over, and let’s get a table.”
After a little shuffling, they all crammed into a booth. Even sitting, Walter was massive. Michael did the introductions, ending with, “and this is Lena Marcellus of the Hamilton James.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” she replied and gave Michael a sidelong glance. “And good to see you again, and a captain besides. That’s quite a step up from a lowly runner. How did that happen?”
“Yeah, how did that happen?” Walter asked, leaning heavily on the table. “The last time I saw you, you were a knuckle-dragger like the rest of us.”
“Speak for yourself, Walter,” Helga replied. “But I do want to know how you went from the Heinrich’s newest crewman to captain of your own ship.”
He shook his head with a grin. “Let me start by saying I did something stupid. I jumped ship and hitched a ride back to Taschin.”
“Yup, that was stupid,” Walter replied, underlining his point with a burp.
“Jumping ship, yes,” Helga added, “but I’ve hitched a few rides in my day. It’s usually crap duty, but it’s a cheap way to travel.”
Michael shook his head. “I picked the wrong ship. They were essentially pirates, and it practically turned into a kidnapping. Long story short, I busted out on the way back. Shots were fired. It was a mess.”
“At Arvin?” Lena asked.
Michael nodded.
“I read about that,” she said. “It was supposed to have been a Yoshido ship, but the captain got away.”
“Yeah, it’s a long story, and it really goes back to the war and my dad.”
“Peter?” Helga asked.
“No, Malcolm,” he replied but thought better of it. “Yeah, I guess it does go back to Peter, because he and my mom were killed by pirates during the war, but Malcolm Fletcher adopted me, and he … well, it’s a long story. He died last year. The Sophie’s Grace was his ship, and now it’s mine.”
“And captain,” Walter said.
Michael nodded. “I got my license, and I guess I have Peter to thank for getting me into the Guild.” He wanted to brag to them about acing the license exam, but he did not want to look too full of himself in front of Lena.
Helga knocked twice on the table. “Then that’s grounds for a celebration. Walter, go get us a round.”
He nodded, rose, and lumbered off toward the bar.
Michael turned to Lena. “You’re looking well,” he said. The truth was that she was looking much better than well. She was still in her Hamilton utilities, but she had a very pretty face. He had forgotten how pretty it was.
She smiled back at him. “The beard is new. I like it, and the uniform is a nice touch too.”
Michael looked down and realized how out of place he was in his dress uniform. “Yeah, I um … I’ve got a thing later on.”
“No, don’t apologize. It looks good.”
He stammered for a moment, but Helga rescued him. “So, you’re doing all right. You’ve got a good crew?”
“Um, yeah,” he replied. “They seem to be working out pretty well.”
“Is it a full crew?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. Why, are you looking for something?”
She shrugged. “Kind of, but if you’re full, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“Well, I …”
“No, really,” she said. “You’ve got your crew. Don’t go firing anybody on my account.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
The silence stretched for a moment, but Helga broke it. “You know, for Michael’s sake, I’d take you to see my captain, but we’re full up, too.”
“Thank you,” Lena said. “I appreciate that. I’m not desperate or anything, but I am looking.”
Helga nodded. “Well, you should check in at our shipping office up on ring one. They’ll have a list of any open posts.” She grinned at the two of them. “You should take Michael. From the looks of things, I imagine he’d put in a good word for you.”
He blushed. “Yeah, I’d be happy to.”
Walter returned with four shot glasses, all resting in his left palm. Helga stood and distributed them. “To Captain Fletcher,” she said. “May he chart a happy course.”
After the glasses clinked Michael took a sip. Walter slammed his back and started to sit again, but Helga reached up to put her hand on his chest.
“Walter, I think Captain Fletcher would like a few moments alone with the young lady.”
Walter looked at Lena as if for the first time and snorted. “Yeah, Captain Fletcher, you do that.”
Helga sent him on his way and turned back to Michael. “We pull out tomorrow, so I’ll let you two be. Do remember, Michael, that whenever the Ludwig is in port, you’re welcome to visit.”
“Thanks,” he said.
She turned to leave, but paused to lean down and whisper something in Lena’s ear. “I will,” Lena replied, and both of them giggled.
Helga left at last, and Michael stared at Lena. “Dare I ask?”
She shrugged. “Nothing important. You’ve got a good family here.”
“I suppose I do.”
“But you’re out on your own?”
“I guess I am, but you’re out there looking? What’s with that?”
“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” she replied and took another sip of her drink.
“Then why?”
“I’m happy on the Hamilton, truthfully. Don’t think it’s a bad ship or anything like that. Captain Bradley took me on as a favor to my mom, and it’s been a good two years.” She swallowed the rest of her drink. “But even on a ship as old as the Hamilton, they don’t need a full-time mechanic. I’ve been studying for other posts, but that crew isn’t going anywhere.”
He thought about the woman holding down the portside watch. “Yeah, I can see that. Sorry I didn’t have anything for you, but we should definitely go to the shipping office here. I can tell you that Schneider & Williams runs some good ships.”
She nodded. “That would be nice, but maybe we could do that tomorrow. It would be nice to catch up, get some dinner, and maybe hear more of that long story.”
“I’d love to,” he replied, frowning. “I just can’t do it tonight.”
“Oh, okay.”
“No,
it’s… I’m taking my crew out to dinner in the Guild Hall. It’s kind of a celebration.”
“Well, maybe another time,” she said.
He could see the disappointment in her eyes and felt the moment slipping away. “No,” he said. “Not another time. Tonight. It will have to be later, maybe twenty-two hundred, but I want to see you tonight.”
“Another dinner?”
“How about dessert instead?”
“All right, but not here. No offense to your cousins and such, but it’s a little loud.”
“Not a problem,” he assured her. “Name the place.”
“Tully’s Teahouse, down on ring four,” she said. “It’s cozier.”
“Got it,” he said. “Tully’s Teahouse, ring four, twenty-two hundred.”
“Don’t be late,” she chided.
“No way.”
Collins grumbled as he stared at the monitor. It had taken more than a day, but not much more. Before him, two tactical teams were moving down the hallway of the hotel. Another one was covering the exit at the other end, and another waited in the hotel reception area.
“We’ll have him in a moment,” the officer said next to him.
“Do your men have the access key?”
“Yes, but it won’t come to that. He’s about to open the door for us.”
“Oh?”
“While he was out, we arranged for the toilet to jam. Twenty minutes after he returned, he called the front desk for maintenance. Now we’re answering the call.”
Collins sighed. There had already been two other chances to go after Bishop, but the local security chief had countermanded them. Too many bystanders, he had said. Too much risk. Collins had not liked it, but as he watched the tactical team approach the door, he had to admit that this was much cleaner.
The officer on the screen pressed the door signal. Over the radio link, they heard him say, “Maintenance. May I come in?”