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As for me, I stayed close to the ship. I had no initiative for private trading and the co-op had sold everything that anybody had brought with them. The results had been pretty spectacular, and Pip and I had close to seven kilocreds in our joint account. Every once in a while he asked me to go to the flea market, if only to pick something he could take to Niol, but neither of us really wanted to think about the consequences of the next port, so he didn’t push and I hadn’t gone shopping.

Waiting was aggravating. I knew something was happening, but nobody would say what. I had a sense that I wouldn’t be staying on Betrus, but I couldn’t operate under any other assumption without information to the contrary. It was all well and good to say, “Trust Lois,” but it got harder with each day we spent docked.

I had the day watch on the fourteenth but didn’t have the heart to go out after, so I was up early for breakfast. The mess deck was pretty busy in spite of being in port because the free meal saved credits for cash strapped spacers. Almost all the crew showed up for breakfast and Pip, Sarah, and Cookie worked hard to keep up and still maintain any kind of watch schedule. I noticed that all three of them were often working, even when I knew one of them should have been off-duty. Mr. von Ickles was having his breakfast at the officers’ table when I entered and he waved me over before I could even get my coffee.

“Mr. Wang, I know you’re off-duty today, but I wonder if I could ask a favor of you?”

I shrugged. “As long as I’m clear by 18:00 so I can go on watch, sure. I’ve got no plans.”

“Excellent, I need your advice on a procurement issue. Can you meet me at the main lock at, say, 09:00?”

It was an odd request, but he was the officer so I just said, “Yes, sar.”

As I walked away, he added, “Civvies, Mr. Wang.”

“Civvies, aye, aye, sar!”

I met him at the appointed time and had to work to suppress a certain level of curiosity. We checked out with Fong and headed across the dock. We walked in silence until we were well away from the ship.

“What do you know of EMP hardening, Mr. Wang?” he asked.

“Not a lot, sar. Usual method for small devices is a grounded shell that intercepts and bleeds off the charged particles, but I have no idea how we shield a whole ship.”

“The ship is the shell. We keep a slight charge on the skin while underway. It’s actually an artifact of the fields that we use for the grav-keel and sails.”

“Then how did the EMP fry the network, sar?”

“The very question, Mr. Wang, the very question!” he said. “How indeed?”

“May I ask what we’re procuring, sar?”

“A portable computer. I want your input. The spec should exceed the capacity of the one you brought aboard by at least a factor of two. You know the most about that machine so you’re the best one to advise me.”

“I see, sar.” And I did. With me leaving the ship, the backup provided by my portable would be going as well. “I can see why you would like a new portable before I leave the ship.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” he said, but the look on his face kept me from following up.

There were three vendors on the orbital and we visited each of them. Mr. von Ickles asked me to interact with each sales guys while he stayed in the background and listened. It took the rest of the morning to visit all of them and determine the precise configurations each could offer within the time frames we had. Of course, our time frames were nebulous—in the next couple of days—so it wasn’t that easy for them to specify something that was too complicated or would require equipment to be shipped in.

After we finished, he took me to a coffee shop where we ordered a light lunch and got down to comparing.

“So, what do you think, Mr. Wang?”

I pulled up the notes from my tablet and consulted them.

“The first place had some excellent equipment but with the differential in price, I’m not sure the extra cost is worth it. His integrated systems just didn’t have the kind of oomph I’d expect for that kind of money.

“The second place had consumer grade equipment. Not junk but just not up to spec. If I’m gonna put my neck on the line, I wouldn’t trust that stuff. Most of it wasn’t even as good as the one I have.

“The third one had good gear but nothing in the configuration we would want to run a backup ShipNet on in the event of another occurrence.”

“So, none of them have what we need?”

“Not off the shelf, no, sar.” I concluded.

“I hear a but,” he said with a grin. “Give.”

“The cases from that first guy were expensive but also really good. We’re interested in armored equipment and he had three full machines he was trying to sell. If we skipped the bells and whistles, his case and bare system would be a good starting point,” I said as I munched my sandwich. “The case he had on that second system was actually excellent for what we’re going to need—hardened to mil-spec with shock mounting and grounding.”

“We need some of those bells and whistles that you’re dismissing,” he said.

“Yes, sar, but that last place had them and they were good brands at fair prices. If we start with the base from that first shop, and the guts from the last, we can integrate it ourselves on the ship and have a better machine than either one of them could provide individually.”

“I don’t wanna risk our lives on the cheap, Mr. Wang,” he said.

“Me either, and it won’t be cheap, but it’s not just the price, sar. It’s the quality of the components. The first place was betting on the cases and charging as if the guts were the same quality, but they weren’t. The last place had great quality components but he was skimping on the cases to make up for it.”

“And you can do this integration?”

I looked at him for a moment and then decided he was testing me. “Sar, you’re the licensed systems guy. You know what I’m talking about is nowhere near rocket science. All that stuff is load-and-go. With the right operating system support, this isn’t any more complicated than making coffee.”

“So, how do you know this, Mr. Wang?” he asked, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

“I dunno. Just something I grew up with, I guess. I upgraded my mom’s machine enough times. Why? Doesn’t everybody know this stuff?”

He looked at me but didn’t answer. “Well, let’s eat up and go back. I’ll do the buying, but if you see me doing something you think is wrong, stop me, okay?”

“That’s not terribly likely, is it, sar?”

“No,” he admitted, “but with our lives on the line, don’t you think it would be a good idea to have a second pair of eyes?”

“If you put it that way, sar, I’ll be watching like a hawk.”

We finished eating and visited the two shops again. Mr. von Ickles even added some things I wouldn’t have thought of, but they were obvious when he picked them off the shelves. Extra communication ports and more storage would make our
uh-oh
box that much more effective at integrating the ShipNet and instrumentation.

We were both fairly well laden down by the time we got back to the docks. I felt like a kid with a new toy and Mr. von Ickles had a grin so wide, I was not sure he could get it through the lock without turning sideways. It was going to be an awesome machine. I just hoped I was going to get to play with it a bit before they set out.

We got back to the ship at about 14:30 and by the time we had all the gear stowed in the office, it was almost 15:00.

“All right, Mr. Wang, this stuff is secured and I appreciate your assistance today. You should probably go get a nap before watch.”

“We’re not going to put the machine together?”

“No,
we
are not,” he said with particular emphasis on the
we
part.

“Yes, sar,” I said feeling a pang of disappointment. After all the discussion over lunch about whether or not I could do the integration, I hoped that I would get a crack at it. I understood his desire to do it himself. He was going to be sailing with it, after all. “Thanks for an interesting day, sar.”

He gave me an odd smile that looked a lot like
cat-and-canary
time, but I couldn’t imagine what it was about so I headed back to berthing and got out of my civvies. I had just enough time for a short nap, followed by a run and a sauna before I had to get out to the gangway.

Watch was uneventful. With so much time in port, most people had exhausted themselves, or their resources, or both. A couple of the hard-core partiers went out, but were back before 24:00 and the ship might as well have been underway. I finished the Cargoman study and I was pretty sure I could pass both Messman and Cargoman exams without any problem. What had seemed so complicated just a few months before seemed almost trivial. I wondered what I was going to do on watch for the remaining time I had aboard and I wished—not for the first time—that they would just get on with it and announce a departure. The blank above the ship’s telltale on the lock was disconcerting, and we had to be burning through docking fees at a horrendous rate. That was going to make a mess of the share pool for the next leg.

Rhon came to relieve me in the morning and I crawled into my bunk without breakfast. It had been a long, frustrating, and miserable night. I woke just before lunch and hadn’t had any dreams, and Sally pretended to be disappointed that I wasn’t providing any entertainment.

“Why do you think I took the lower bunk with two young guys across from mine?” she asked me with a salacious wink. “Scenery!”

She was a sketch. I was pretty sure she was joking. There was no penalty for looking, if you didn’t count the frustration from not being able to touch. That particular thought started with a big pile of computer parts in the ship’s office but cycled rapidly through Diane, Bev, and Brill, which made me think of Cassandra so I pulled out my tablet and checked ship status.

There it was, SSlater: ENR Dunsany. I thought,
Safe voyage, Captain
, and brushed my fingers across the screen.

That’s when I noticed that the AMoore had docked. That was the tanker that Gregor Avery had left us for in St. Cloud. She was another Federated Freight ship and she posted an opening for ENV3. Looked like life was about to get really interesting.

Crap
, I thought.

“Well, I better at least look,” I said to myself and followed the icon trail to the full listing. The system matched my jacket against the berth and a green
Qualified
showed up on my screen. Before I could click the icon to apply for the job, my tablet, and every tablet in the berthing area, bipped. People were already buzzing before I could get the screen changed.

The captain had posted a departure date and time. We had two days left.

Double crap
and
be careful what you wish for
, ran through my head, remembering my idle wish from the early morning hours.

Thinking ahead, I realized I had one more day watch and then I would probably have to leave the ship and everyone I knew. It didn’t feel as bad as the night they told me mom had died, but it was close. I wanted to just curl up there and have a good cry, but I would have felt silly. So I heaved myself out of the bunk and headed for the showers. I cried there. The water was good camouflage and the door gave me some privacy. The spasm passed quickly, though, and I got dried off and zipped up in time for lunch. It was going to be hard, but a free meal was a free meal. I tried valiantly not to feel sorry for myself—and failed.

I ate lunch. I think I sat with Rhon Scham and Biddy Murphy. The mess deck was a-buzz with excitement but I felt very much alone and out of it. I ate quickly and bussed my dishes. As I left the mess deck I remembered the
Audrey Moore
and the open berth. Ironic that it was the same level that Gregor took. I sighed and reached for my tablet thinking something darkly Shakespearian along the lines of, “If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly,” but I couldn’t be sure which play, or even if I was remembering it correctly.

I pulled my tablet out of the holster and almost dropped it as it bipped in my hand. The captain wanted to see me at my earliest possible convenience.

Crap again
, I thought. Well, at least I knew there was a berth I was qualified for and I might not be stuck on Betrus for long.

When I got to the cabin, I was surprised to find the captain alone. Under the circumstances, I had expected to find all the senior officers present. I gave a little mental shrug. She hired me alone, she could fire me similarly—except she didn’t appear to be getting ready to do that.

“Come in, Mr. Wang. Please have a seat.” She indicated the conversational grouping around a low table.

“Thank you, Captain,” I said and sat.

“Did you see that the
Audrey
had docked?”

“Yes, Captain. I was just about to put my jacket out when your call came.”

“Do you want to go there, Mr. Wang?”

“Not particularly, Captain, but even a poor berth is better than no berth.”

“I talked to Captain Peters about you when I saw that the
Audrey
had the opening. The berth is Gregor Avery’s. He got himself arrested in Dunsany for fighting and the authorities wouldn’t let him leave. So the
Audrey
is short. They’ve got a machinist working the watches now, but they’re not happy with his performance, so they’ve posted the berth.”