Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (24 page)

BOOK: Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper)
12.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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.

“Yes, indeed. If there were a watch desk, it would be in the way, and with a short crew, keeping portside watches is a problem anyway.”

She nodded slowly as she considered it. “I can see that, Skipper.”

We went back into the ship and closed the big locks, securing the safety lugs again, and working back into the hold proper to continue our inspection. Other than a really impressive collection of dents, dings, and scrapes, we found nothing wrong in the whole area. Even the tie-down points and stanchion braces were in good order. As we finished our survey of the aft bulkhead with the hatch into spares storage, I was surprised to see that it was already 1730.

I looked over to where Ms. Arellone leaned her back against the bulkhead, working her shoulders back and forth against a tie-down. It looked odd, but she was obviously scratching her back.

“I don’t know about you, Ms. Arellone, but I’m ready for a hot shower, a warm meal, and a cold drink, not necessarily in that order.”

“Mmmm.” She gave a little moan. “Sounds wonderful, Skipper. That hotel bed is going to feel good tonight.”

I chuckled and nodded my agreement. “Indeed it is.”

We headed back to the Lagrange Point, being careful to secure the ship behind us. We made it back by 1800. As we walked into the suite, having run the gauntlet of disapproving looks from the bellman, concierge, and desk clerk—no doubt for our disreputable appearance—I held out my hand to Ms. Arellone. “Owner’s key, please, Ms. Arellone? I’d like to lock it in the room safe.”

She nodded, opened her shoulder pocket, and pulled out the key, pressing it into my palm.

“Thank you, Ms. Arellone. How is this security arrangement working out for you?”

She stopped at the door to her room and turned back to look at me, brow furrowed in thought .“It’s okay, Captain. At least it was today. I didn’t notice anybody paying us any particular mind on the oh-two deck, and the only people who looked at us cross-eyed were the hotel staff here.”

“Can’t blame them for that, Ms. Arellone. We need to shed these suits before we soil something expensive.”

She laughed and slipped into her room, latching the door behind her. I headed for a hot shower of my own.

Chapter Twenty
Diurnia Orbital:
2372-December-23

We avoided the bodyguard issue at breakfast by ordering room service. The coffee wasn’t horrible, and at least the eggs had eggs in them. The bacon was limp, but serviceable, and they brought enough to feed five people.

Morning also brought a fresh round of newsies. Ms. Arellone handed me her tablet across the breakfast table. Somebody had taken a picture of the stormy Ms. Arellone at breakfast. The caption was “Cradle Robbing Captain?”

I sighed and handed the tablet back to Ms. Arellone. “It’s always a question.”

She nodded. “That way nobody can say they’re committing libel, I think.”

“In addition to this new affront to our august person, we also received the engineering reports.” I emphasized the plural.

Other books

Patently in Love by Rhoda Baxter
My Life as a Mankiewicz by Tom Mankiewicz
Trapped with the Tycoon by Jules Bennett
Sunset Limited by James Lee Burke
Accidental Abduction by Eve Langlais
Jennifer Horseman by GnomeWonderland