Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (61 page)

“Yes, filters need replacement to get us back on cycle,” I said.

Ms. Maloney’s concerned expression relaxed a trifle. I am not sure mine did.

“You don’t look happy, sar.”

“I need to work on my poker face, Ms. Maloney.”

“Care to share, sar?”

I sat back in my chair and regarded her levelly. “Normally, I’d tell a quarter share to tend her knitting, but since we share responsibility in this case, I supposed it’s only right we should have a frank discussion about our mutual employee.”

“The chief.” She sighed. “What’s going on, Captain?”

“I don’t know what kind of bodyguard he is, but as an engineering officer, he leaves a lot to be desired.”

She swiveled her seat to face me, concern on her face. “Are you at liberty to explain, sar?”

“I’ve given him any number of tasks to do that he just hasn’t seen fit to accomplish. This scrubber thing is only the latest.” I sat back and crossed my arms to keep from pounding the console in frustration. “He’s had a punch list of small repairs we need done since he came aboard, and most of them are still not done. If I had a screwdriver, I could do them myself, but that’s what the engineering division is for.”

“This might sound, trite and obvious, sar, but does he know he’s supposed to be doing this?”

I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Good question, Ms. Maloney. I would expect that a chief engineering officer would know his job, but perhaps there are some issues here that need addressing.”

“You’ve talked to him, I take it?”

I nodded. “Yes, I have, and maybe it’s time I talked to him again.”

“There’s one point that I should probably clarify for you, Captain. He doesn’t work for me.”

“Really? Who does he work for?”

“DST pays his salary.” She shrugged. “They’ve paid for my security ever since I got out of college.”

“That’s how Andy knows Chief Bailey? Did he go with you on your E and D missions?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, but he sometimes met me at the lock when we came back into Confederation space.”

“Why him?”

She cocked her head. “Why whom? Chief Bailey?”

I nodded. “And if I’m not mistaken, Ms. Kingsley has Adrian Alvarez?”

“You have a good memory for bodyguards, Captain.”

“I knew an Alvarez once. She made quite an impression.”

The dim lights in the bridge didn’t hide her smirk. “I can see that, but what’s your point?”

“You’re an easy target, Ms. Maloney...unless he follows you into the head?” I shrugged. “Seems like it would make more sense for you to have a woman bodyguard.”

She laughed. “I see your point, but it’s never been an issue.” She shrugged. “What about you and Ms. Arellone? Has it been a problem?”

“Only when I tried on clothes, back in Diurnia.”

She sat up straight, and looked at me, her smirk growing broader. “Why, Captain, I thought you had a policy...”

I snorted. “She stood outside the door of the changing room, if you must know. What policy?”

“The one about not sleeping with the crew.”

“Ah, Ms. Arellone has been indoctrinating you, I see.”

She shrugged and gave a little nod. “It is her job, isn’t it? To help the lowly quarter share over the threshold to productive life aboard.”

“Ms. Maloney, you are, without a doubt, the least lowly quarter share I’ve ever met.”

She grinned at me. “Why, Captain? Is that a compliment?”

“Yes, Ms. Maloney, it is,” I said with a smile.

“Then thank you, sar.”

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Maloney.”

Chapter Fifty-Four
Diurnia Orbital:
2373-February-15

The only thing noteworthy about the run back to Diurnia was the speed with which we accomplished it. Running light meant running fast, and we even jumped two percent long into the sector, carving most of a day off the run in. Bending space was far from an exact science so it was normal to jump a bit long or short on each jump. Because of that, I always plotted a bit short, aiming to come in well outside the burleson limit. I really didn’t want to try to jump too far into the gravity well.

On the very short ride in, I snagged a nice hundred cube priority heading for Greenfields, and immediately posted the ship’s itinerary for passengers wanting to go in that direction. At Ms. Maloney’s suggestion, I posted it at fifteen kilocreds with a departure date of February 18th and an estimated arrival of March 5th. As Ms. Maloney pointed out, that was two weeks earlier than the next posted fare to Greenfields.

I pointed out that it was also almost twice as expensive as the next cheapest fare. Ms. Maloney responded with a knowing smile.

She was right. By the time we got to port, we had three passengers lined up to take the ride with us—two traveling together and a single.

Our first full day in port, I held an impromptu crew meeting over breakfast.

“Before I grant liberty...” I looked at Mr. Herring since he was likely to be the only person spending much time ashore.

He grinned back and I had to wonder if the lad was just naturally incurious or if he only really lived for his port-side debauchery, and being aboard was just a convenient way for him to rest between bouts.

“We need to be aware that in a couple of days we’ll have passengers aboard. We need to call Ms. Maitland...” I nodded to her, “by her proper name. We probably should have been practicing all the way in, but that’s wind through the sail now.”

I looked around and got nods from everybody.

“Chief? I need you to check the spares and make sure they’re full. I also need you to work on that punch list, particularly the items in Compartment C. I’ll be inspecting before we bring the guests aboard, and I’ll take it personally if I have to ask you to fix something that a passenger reports.”

“Oh, aye, Cap. I can see that, yes, sar. We’ll be ship-shape by the time they get here, see if we hain’t.”

“Ms. Maitland,” I emphasized the name as much for my own benefit as reminder, “In addition to the supplies for the galley, would you look over the entertainment library available at the chandlery? See what you can do to come up with some films or other programs that a passenger might enjoy?”

Ms. Arellone brightened, “Can I help, sar?”

I looked to Ms. Maloney who shrugged. “Of course, Ms. Arellone.”

“What about me, sar?” Mr. Herring asked, looking almost afraid that I’d have a task for him.

“Mr. Herring, I need you to clean up your quarters before you go ashore. Some of the items on the chief’s punch list are in that compartment, and he’ll need clear access.”

He looked relieved. “Is that all, sar?”

“Not quite, Mr. Herring. Please be careful ashore. The newsies would love to know more about what’s happening here with us, and you’re an easy target for them. Be aware that anybody who buys you a drink, probably wants more than your body in return.”

He gave me one of those looks that very plainly said, “I can’t believe you just said that.” What he actually uttered was, “Yes, sar.”

“Last on my agenda, thanks for another successful voyage. The cargo handlers will be here shortly to strip out these shipments, and make room for the next. Our passengers are due to arrive on the morning of the 18th, and I’m planning to leave here in the afternoon. Any questions?” I looked around the table to get a series of shrugs and shakes.

“Liberty, sar?” Mr. Herring said in a small and coaxing voice.

“I’ll inspect your compartment when you’re ready, Mr. Herring. Liberty will be contingent on your passing that inspection.”

He frowned and started to say something but thought better of it. “Yes, sar.”

“Why don’t you go do that now, Mr. Herring,” I suggested with a smile.

His “Aye, aye, sar” hung in the air for a few heartbeats after he’d already exited the galley.

Ms. Maloney stifled a laugh in her mug, and even Ms. Arellone looked amused. The chief just drank his coffee, and looked about blandly.

“Well, then,” I said, rising and stacking my dishes, “time for me to get busy, too.”

I grabbed a refill and headed for the cabin to set up a query for new cargo to Greenfields, and to check my messages. We still had room for a couple more passengers, but I held little hope that we would get any. As I left the galley, Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone fired up the console to begin looking for entertainment programming, and the chief pulled out his tablet. I hoped that he was looking for the punch list because I was getting a little aggravated by his consistent lack of attention to the details of his job.

The day proceeded at a breakneck pace, but for once, nothing broke. The cargo handlers showed up right on time and stripped out the cargo, leaving us empty and ready for the next load. I managed to get my paperwork cleared up, filled out the captain’s log, and even started the next round of astrogation updates. Mid-afternoon brought a delivery for Ms. Maloney, and she and Ms. Arellone wrestled it into storage. I made a written note to speak to Mr. Herring when he returned. An able spacer rating appeared on his file, but as long as he left the work to others, he would stay ordinary on our rolls.

Near the end of the day, it finally occurred to me to I make an appointment with Mr. Simpson to find out where we stood on finding a new investor. His office returned the query with regrets. Mr. Simpson was off the station, and not expected to return until the 22nd.

Just before 1600, I snagged another forty cubes of cargo for Greenfields, giving us enough cargo revenue to cover the cost of the voyage, with a nice bit of profit to share from the passenger fares. As I sat back and admired my accomplishments for the day, I heard a soft knock on the cabin door. I looked up to see Ms. Maloney in the door frame with Chief Bailey standing behind her.

“Yes? Come in?” I offered.

Ms. Maloney shook her head. “I just wanted to see if it would be okay for me to spend the night at my apartment here, Captain? It’s been awhile since I’ve slept in my own bed, and I’d like to make sure things are all right there.” She indicated the chief with a nod of her head. “The chief will escort me out and back. He’s got his own business to tend to here tonight, if that’s acceptable?”

I’d forgotten that this was home for them—or at least one of them. I looked over her shoulder at the chief. “How are you doing on that punch list, Chief?”

“Oh, right well, Cap. Right well. Went through all the items pegged to the passenger compartments over the course of the day, I certainly did. Have ta order some more lighting panels. We ran out before I finished in Compartment B, we did, but I ordered some extras. They’ll be here tomorrow, see if they hain’t.”

“Thank you, Chief. That’ll make life much nicer for our guests.” I nodded to Ms. Maloney. “I’ve no objections, Ms. Maitland. Thank you for checking with me.”

“I can come back to fix breakfast in the morning, Captain.” She let the offer hang open, but I shook my head.

“That’s not necessary, Ms. Maitland. I think Ms. Arellone and I will go visit my father for breakfast. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

She smiled, and led the chief down the ladder and off the ship.

I felt relieved that Chief Bailey seemed to be getting his act together. For several moments I sat there, staring at my console and wondering what to do next.

I stood and went out to the galley. I wasn’t sure I wanted more coffee, but the moving around seemed to help my thinking. I found Ms. Arellone at the table, watching a movie on the panel. She punched a button on the remote and froze the screen. I recognized the scene.

“You found a copy of ‘The Poppy Field,’ I see.”

She grinned. “Ms. Mal—, Ms. Maitland and I found a deal on a whole collection of classic films. This was one of them.”

I laughed. “You’ve seen that film, what? Hundreds of times and it always makes you cry, Ms. Arellone. Why do you watch it?”

She looked at me like I was completely clueless. “Because it always makes me cry, of course, sar.” She waved her handkerchief at me. “I’m ready. See?”

I shook my head in mock disbelief. “I don’t know about you, Ms. Arellone.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, and then shifted gears. “Is it just us tonight, Skipper?”

“Just like old times, Ms. Arellone. You feel like going ashore?”

She considered it through one long, slow breath. “Not particularly, sar. Not tonight. You?”

“I’m in for the night, I think. I’d like to go to Over Easy for breakfast, and visit with my father, though.”

She smiled at me. “That sounds like a plan, sar. What’ll we do for dinner?”

I looked in the ready cooler, and saw that Ms. Maloney had left plenty of choices. “I think we’ll find something.”

She grinned. “I’m not surprised, Skipper.” She paused for a few heartbeats before continuing. “She’s not exactly what I expected, though, you know, sar?”

“I know, Ms. Arellone.” I closed the cooler, and crossed back to sit at the table. “She seems to be adjusting well, as far as I can see. How is she as a bunkie?”

She laughed softly. “She snores. Not as bad as Gutshot used to, back on the
Agamemnon
, sar, but she snores.”

I smiled. “You two seem be hitting it off.”

“Princess and the pauper at times, sar, but she’s really down to earth. When we went to get her stuff on Welliver? She has a classy apartment.” She fanned herself with an open hand. “Very ritz, but simple and clean, yanno? I’ve never seen anything like it, but we sat and chatted a bit, put our feet on the furniture, just like real people do. It was strange but kinda nice.”