Quarter Share: A Trader's Tale from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper (15 page)

Chapter 16

Gugara Orbital
2351-December-09

I finally got ashore on Gugara Orbital. After Pip’s experience on Darbat, the more experienced crew adopted us. The problem was that he and I couldn’t leave the ship at the same time. We were the only two mess crew so we were, by definition, in alternating watch sections. One of us had to remain aboard at all times. It seemed a bit silly to me. We never did anything after the evening meal clean up, but those were the rules. The upside was that I got to know some of the other crew members better.

Pip and I flipped a coin for first night liberty, and I suspect that he threw the call so I could go. I think he felt guilty because I’d missed Darbat entirely when he got mugged on the first night.

“You go and have a good time. I’ll poke about the station net from here and see if I can find a deal we can go in on, okay?”

“But where’s good? You know Gugara. Gimme some recommendations.”

We sat on the mess deck and before I knew it, people surrounded us, all talking at once with advice on where to go.

Brill Smith took me by the arm and drew me out of the throng. “They’re all crazy. Half of them will be broke by the time we leave. What do you want to do?”

“I have no idea. This is the first time that I’ve been off Neris since I was a toddler. I don’t remember much about being out of the system. Come to think of it, it’s been almost ninety days since I’ve been off the ship. Can that be right?” I started counting on my fingers. “I came aboard three days before we left Neris, and we were forty-five standays to Darbat. Then four more there, and forty-four to here.” I blinked in surprise.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Ishmael. And you’re still sane?”

I grinned. “Well, that’s open to debate, but I am shocked. It seems like yesterday, sorta. I can’t really remember a time when I wasn’t here, other than some fuzzy kind of idea that I used to live somewhere else.”

“Wait ’til you’ve been doing this for ten stanyers. You really won’t remember. You didn’t get to go ashore at Darbat, did you?”

I shook my head. “I was just changing into my civvies when the Darbatis brought Pip back.”

“What were you going to do there?”

I blushed and answered, “Eat.”

“Seriously? You work in the galley and you wanted to get off the ship to eat?”

“Cookie is amazing. He’s an artist in the kitchen.” I shrugged. “But once in a while, I’d like to eat somebody else’s cooking.”

“Tell you what. In honor of your earning your engineering-half rating, let me take you out to dinner. A few of us were planning on going to a nice place we know up on level six. They have great steaks and good beer. You can get out and stretch your legs a bit. My treat for dinner. You’re on your own after that.”

“Okay, sounds like fun.”

“Meet at the quarterdeck lock at 17:00 ship time. That’s only a stan from now so go put some party clothes on.”

The throng was still gathered around the table talking about what they’d do on station, and didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t even there anymore. I grinned. These people were nuts.

And I was one of them. It felt good.

It didn’t take me that long to get ready to go. My civvies seemed oddly out of place on the ship, but my feet remembered my boots and it sure felt good to put them back on after so long in the standard issue ones. I made my way to the quarterdeck and met up with Brill and two of her people: Diane Ardele and Francis Gartner. Diane was a gamine with cropped red hair, a pixie face, and a wicked grin. Francis Gartner was a string bean of a guy, with long narrow hands and muddy brown hair. I knew them of course, from the mess line, but other than seeing the two occasionally in the gym, I’d never spent much time with them.

We checked out with the duty officer and left the ship. When I stepped out of the lock, I felt a momentary sense of disorientation. It looked just like Neris. I had the odd feeling that somebody was playing an elaborate trick on me. I froze after stepping onto the station deck plates and gazed around. Brill was in the lead and she didn’t realize I’d stopped. Diane and Francis came up on either side of me and just stood there with me for a tick.

Brill noticed and turned to look back at us. “Are you coming? Or are you just gonna stand there rubbernecking all night. I’m hungry.”

Diane answered her with a laugh, “Keep yer panties on. We’ll be there when we’re ready.”

Francis, who really was almost as tall as Brill, leaned down to speak softly into my ear. “You okay, Ish?”

I nodded, looking around. The cold, sharp air smelled of hot hydraulic fluid from the station-side of the lock and some other indefinable station smell. It was a cross between iodine and mint, not unpleasant, but not the
Lois’
smell. I shook myself and started forward again. After three months in the
Lois’
cramped passageways and spaces, the orbital seemed airy and spacious.

Brill waited for us to catch up. “A bit odd, Ishmael?”

“Yeah. For a second there I thought I was going nuts. I stepped out and it looked just like Neris.”

They all laughed. Diane offered an explanation, “It’s the law. The docks on all the orbitals are standardized from the size of the docks, to the spacing of the locks, to the height of the ceiling. It’s the same everywhere right down to the padding on the deck and the colors of the walls.”

I took a deep breath and let it out loudly. “Thank the gods. I thought I was going mad.”

We all laughed and Brill led us up through the station to level six and into a restaurant named, Beef and Brew. The manager, a portly man with a florid complexion greeted us. “Brill, my dear, always good to see you again. You’ve made the loop finally?”

She nodded first shaking one of his big hands in both of hers and then hugging him warmly with a firm kiss on each cheek. “Maurice, you old charmer, you’re only glad to see us because we spend so much money here.”

“You wound me, my dear.” He posed with an expression of mock horror, a hand held dramatically to his breast. “The money isn’t the only reason.”

Diane stepped up. “No, just the most important one.” She smiled as she also greeted him with a handshake and a hug.

Francis smiled and shook his hand, but didn’t offer to hug. “Good to see you again.”

Brill introduced me, “Maurice, this is Ishmael Wang. He’s a new crew member who joined us at Neris. This is the first time he’s been off the ship in over ninety days so you must treat him well. He’s feeling a bit exposed.”

The manager beamed at me and I felt welcomed in a way that I couldn’t remember ever experiencing. “Greetings, Mr. Wang, I’m delighted that you’ve chosen my humble establishment to break your long incarceration,” he said enthusiastically.

“Thank you, I’m excited for a meal where somebody else waits on me for a change.”

Brill grinned at me before turning to our host. “Ishmael works in the galley on the
Lois
. He’s been taking care of us for the last three months.”

“Ah, you work with Cookie. How is he? And why has he not come with you tonight?”

“He’s fine. His duties are keeping him aboard, I’m afraid.”

“Well, let’s not stand on ceremony here. Come this way, my old and new friends. I have a table which you should find acceptable.” He scooped up a handful of menus and led us into the dimness of the restaurant.

I sighed happily as we settled at the large table with real chairs that slid on the floor. Maurice brought us a large pitcher of beer without asking and collected orders with joyous abandon. I had to admire his skill when the wait staff delivered all the meals perfectly to the correct person. The beefalo steak was superb and the greens were lovely and crunchy. They served the perfect baked potato with only a discrete dab of what looked and tasted like real butter. For the first time since NerisCo Security had showed up at my door that day, I felt myself begin to unwind.

Dinner was wonderful. I knew Brill was smart and funny. She really had helped me with the tour of the Environmental Section. Diane and Francis were likewise wonderful dinner companions. Being a professor’s kid had two effects on me. First, I was surrounded by people who tended to lord their intelligence over anybody who didn’t have at least two educational degrees and four decades of experience. Second, being surrounded by a lot of really smart people gave me a vocabulary and an appreciation for some of the larger ideas in human existence, unlike many of my peers. Because of that, I appreciated the dinner in a way that I seldom had experienced before. I felt like a grown up.

We lounged over dinner for at least three stans. Maurice occasionally stopped by the table to check up on us, but he never once made us feel unwelcome or that, we should move on. Finally, after we finished off our coffees, and a second round of desserts, we settled up and sauntered out onto level six. The four of us window-shopped and chatted, sharing stories of life planet-side, ship board, and everything in between. I learned that Brill had a master’s degree in environmental sciences while Francis held a doctorate in astrophysics. Diane had barely squeaked through secondary school. She was just good with algae. They all three shared a passion for clean air and fresh water and I discovered that I began to think of them as my friends. After a while we split up. Brill and I needed to get back to the ship, but Diane had other ideas. She stepped up and gave me a hug. “Good night, Ish. Francis and I are going down to the oh-two deck and dance the night away.”

I hugged her back and shook Francis’s hand. “Thanks for letting me tag along, guys. I had a great time. Funny how you can live so close together but not really cross paths.”

They all chuckled knowingly. “Happens all the time.” Francis winked at me.

Brill and I set out in one direction while Diane and Frances headed the opposite way.

We meandered from level to level, finally reaching the docks again. The cold air seemed refreshing, even if the smells of ships and machinery permeated everything. Eventually, we reached the
Lois
again. Walking up to the lock, with the visual image being overlaid in my head with the lock on Neris Orbital, I was suddenly smitten with the sense of coming home that I had only previously associated with returning to the flat in faculty housing I’d shared so long with my mother. I sighed contentedly.

Brill heard me and smiled. “You seem pleased.”

I looked up at her with a smile. “Thank you for dinner. It was excellent and it felt really good to get off the ship.”

“You’re welcome, Ish. It was my pleasure. Next time, you can buy.” She was only half teasing, I knew, and I considered the idea.

We stepped through the lock and checked in with the watch stander. I was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. We split up then, each headed for our berths. When I got to mine, Pip was still awake, reading something on his tablet.

He looked up. “Hi, there. How was dinner?”

“Great. Brill took us to the Beef and Brew and I met the owner. Fantastic meal. Lotta fun.” I stripped out of my civvies and hung them in my locker, leaving on a ship-tee and boxers. I clambered up into my bunk, and was asleep before I knew I was laying down.

Chapter 17

Gugara Orbital
2351-December-10

The next day, I had the duty and Pip was off. He got up with me when the duty watch stander came to wake me.

He sat at one of the tables and watched me prepare the urns. “So, what’s the status?” I asked.

“I looked around for cargoes on the station net last night and I found some interesting things. I want to get over to the orbital as soon as I can and check them out.”

He hung around long enough to get fresh coffee and one of Cookie’s omelets then he headed to the orbital. “No money this trip.”

Cookie shouted after him. “You be careful just the same.”

Cookie and I spent a pleasant morning with the duty crew who came in for breakfast. He showed me his tricks for making perfect omelets. The key was using the proper amount of water in the egg. He placed a great deal of emphasis on mixing the two until the result was a precise shade of yellow.

It took a while for me to learn the technique. “No, no, young Ishmael, use the fork like a whisk, not a bat. You need to mix the egg with air to get the correct color. You’re not stirring porridge.”

Eventually, I got the hang of it. “Very good, You could be an excellent cook if you applied yourself.”

He entrusted the omelet making to me from then on and went off to set the yeast breads to rise.

Eventually curiosity got the better of me and I turned to Cookie. “How’s the stores trading coming?”

His smile shined whitely in the galley’s overheads. “Quite well, quite well. Pip and I have placed our orders and we found several excellent deals.”

“Did you get the Sarabanda Dark that you were hoping for?”

“Oh yes, and some lovely frozen beefalo at a very nice price. The profit from the frozen fish was not quite what we projected, but that’s to be expected. All told, it was a good first trial.”

“So, you’re pleased?”

He smiled, and nodded, then waved me out of the galley. “Go. Scamper. I need some peace and quiet in which to make pie crusts.”

I went back to the berthing area and crawled into my bunk. It was only midmorning, but I’d been up late the night before. I fell asleep almost instantly.

About a stan later, I awoke and Pip spoke from across the aisle, “You must have had a rough night.”

“No, it was lovely, but it was later than I’m used to and I just felt like a nap. What’s up? Did you see the cargoes you were looking for?”

“I did. I’m just trying to figure out what to do about them.”

“Them?”

Pip nodded. “Rugs. Here on Gugara they have a small specialty market in the things you can make out of beefalo, besides meat. One thing is a heavy robe. Another is a decorative rug. I met a dealer and the stuff is beautiful. The robes are really nice, more like a long, leather coat with a dark fur trim. The rugs are roughly animal shaped but still well done. Personally I think they’re kind of tacky, but who am I to say?” He held up his tablet and showed me some digitals. “I took these this morning.”

“I see what you mean, but what makes you think these would sell in Margary?”

“Most of the people in the system live in hollow rocks. Over the stanyers they’ve carved out hundreds of them. If you’re well off, you have your own. If not, or if you just don’t care about that kind of thing, you live in one of the habitats. But they’re all basically holes.”

“You’re painting a picture of cavemen in space.”

Pip chuckled. “Well, it’s not quite that bad. It’s not like all these guys are crawling around low-grav or no-grav asteroids with EVA suits and pickaxes. They seal the tunnels against air and water seepage as they go. After the asteroid is exhausted, they strip out the gear and the company makes them available to the Margary Station Authority for disposition. MSA cleans them up, carves out apartments, and lays down a slightly better grade of sealant. They install ship-grade power plants, environmental processing, and gravity flooring. When done, MSA rents them out as flats to the miners, prospectors, foundry workers, and ship yard crew.”

“Okay, I’m getting the picture, but beefalo robes?”

“I’m not too sure about the robes. Inside the units, it’s like being aboard ship, Constant temperatures and all. I’ve visited there before and if you didn’t know you were in a hole, you might think you were ship board. That’s why I’m considering the rugs.”

I looked around the berthing area and tried to image a beefalo rug. “I still don’t get it? Why would they be in demand?”

“Psychology. Everybody there knows they’re actually living inside a rock. They are cold, hard, and sterile, at least in their minds. You said it yourself—cavemen in space. I’m looking for something that’ll relieve that feeling. The rugs are soft, warm, and comforting.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Mass and expense. We can’t afford them.”

My tablet bipped then to remind me I needed to get up to the galley. “Back to work for me. Lemme know if you have any brain flashes.”

Pip nodded distractedly and I got on with the lunch duty.

As usual for a port-side lunch mess, it was mostly soup and sandwiches set up buffet style. There weren’t enough people to warrant setting up a serving line. The crew drifted in and out in doubles and triples. A lot of them loaded a tray and took it back to their stations. Brill came in and we sat together while she ate her soup.

“Thanks, again,” I said. “Last night was so much fun. And Maurice knows how to make a guest feel welcome.”

She laughed. “Yes, he’s a dear. I met him stanyers ago.” She dunked a chunk of bread in her soup and delicately nibbled off the wet edge. “Mmm, that’s not terribly good manners, but it reminds me of home.”

I chuckled. “No need to stand on ceremony here. We’re all family.”

“So, how’s the trading going?”

“Which trading?”

She giggled a little. “You got more than one?”

I nodded. “There’s the Pip and Ish pool. He’s trying to show me how this works. So far, I’m mostly just holding his coat and watching from the sidelines.”

She nodded sympathetically.

“Then there’s the ship’s stores deals.”

“Yeah, I heard about those. All the extra supplies on the dock attracted a bit of attention in Darbat and that pallet of Sarabanda Dark waiting outside looks very interesting.”

“Oh, good. It’s here then?”

She nodded.

“Then there’s the empty container problem.”

“The what?”

“It’s kind of a long story but the gist of it is that Mr. Maxwell assigned Pip an exercise in cargo trading by asking him to put together a manifest for the Gugara to Margary run to fill a hypothetical empty container. They’ve run the exercise with several permutations and the latest is a fixed budget starting point of ten kilocreds and he’s looking for the maximum return on that budget.”

“Sounds like an interesting story. Is there a punch line?”

“
Lois’
manifest list one empty container on the run to Margary.” I offered the comment in what I hoped was a suitably offhanded manner.

Brill blinked for a tick. “Oh my.”

“Indeed.”

Her tablet bipped and she stood. “Time to get back to work. Gregor and I are swapping the sludge pools today. Wanna come help?”

“I would, but I’m on duty here.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I can see where that would be a problem. You’re so busy here in port.” She cast a pointed gaze around the practically empty mess deck.

“Actually, I’d really like to come down and see how it really works. It was in the engineman exam but I’ve only got the theory, ya know?”

She nodded. “That’ll change soon enough. Let me leave you with two words of advice for when you have to do sludge yourself…”

I looked up, interested.

“Mint soap.”

We laughed and went about our respective duties.

While I was straightening up after lunch, Pip came slouching in and settled on the portable. He was frowning in concentration and seemed upset about something. “Problems?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I just cannot get a handle on a cargo for you and me. The stores trades for Margary are in good shape, although I still have some money and mass available on the empty container problem.”

“Is it still empty?”

He nodded. “This looks like a dry run to me. No changes to manifest have been filed.”

“That’s kind of a relief, isn’t it?”

He nodded distractedly. “Yeah.” He didn’t offer any more than that on the subject.

I served him a bowl of soup from the kettle before recycling the rest and threw a couple chunks of bread on the plate.

“Coffee?” he asked, distractedly.

“Anything else, sir?”

He shook his head and laughed at himself. “I’m sorry. I get so wrapped up, I forget.”

I sat the mug beside his food and laughed with him. “It’s okay. I was going that way.”

I finished my clean up and went for a run. I was the only one in the gym, and the sauna was empty too. As much as I liked the crew, having the place all to myself was strangely satisfying. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I started noticing an odd sensation at dinner with Brill, Diane, and Francis. It had continued throughout the day. Sitting in the sauna, feeling the long muscles in my back and legs begin to unwind, I finally recognized it. I was relaxed and it felt good.

Next day, Pip had the duty, but I felt a bit left out when Rhon Scham came down to wake him. So I got up and tagged along. The breakfast set up in the galley was probably my favorite time of the day. Everything was clean and fresh and the smells of coffee, yeast, bacon, and eggs hooked to something inside me that I couldn’t really describe. The smell of coffee always said morning to me. Growing up, we’d not had a tradition of bacon and eggs in my house, but I could see myself getting used to it.

I kibitzed while Cookie and Pip played with omelets and I let Pip practice on me. Somehow I thought Cookie had taught him how to do them long ago, but apparently that was a mistaken assumption on my part. The omelet was good, filled with cheese and meat and thin slices of onion.

After I ate, Cookie frowned at me. “Are you going to spend your whole liberty here in the galley?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m heading out to do some sightseeing, but I’m feeling lazy and I’m in no hurry.”

He smiled. “Young Ishmael, you are anything but lazy. You’ve earned your break. Go take it.” Then he grinned. “Pip can make the coffee today.”

We all had a laugh at that and I headed down to berthing to put on my civvies. As I was leaving the ship, I met up with Beverly at the lock.

“Hey, bunkie. Where you heading?”

She grinned at me. “I’m going shopping. You?”

I shrugged. “Dunno. Sightseeing mostly. My first time on an orbital other than Neris. I went out with some of the environmental crew for dinner last night but I thought I’d go for a stroll today.”

She gave me a well, come on gesture. “I’m heading up to level nine to the flea market. Come with me.” She lowered her voice a tad. “After Darbat, I’m not too keen on just wandering around alone, you know?”

She surprised me. Bev is about a meter and three quarters of menace. She keeps her hair cropped like most of us, but unlike other women aboard, hers was cut in a military crew cut and not one of the more feminine styles. She sported tattoos on most of her body and had piercings that made me wince just looking at them. In her shipsuit, she looked dangerous enough, but in her civvies: black leather pants and jacket, heavy boots and what looked like a pullover made of aluminum plates—I thought only an idiot would mess with her.

It wasn’t all show either. In the gym I’d seen her working through some martial art drills and sparring with the crew. She even moved like she was dangerous, very smooth, aware, and centered. It was funny she wanted me, eighty kilos of coward, to watch her back. Go figure. They say there’s safety in numbers and I felt safe with her.

“Sure, I’ve never been to the flea market.”

As we left the ship she turned to me. “Never? There’s a flea on every orbital.”

“I always visited the Neris Orbital with my mother and she was more focused on the mainstream shops and the cube-sellers. It was a treat for us to go up to visit and we didn’t do it that often. When we did, we spent a lot of time just gawking. She kinda looked down on the flea market.”

Bev shrugged. “Everybody’s allowed their own opinion, but if you’re gonna be a trader, the flea market is your best friend.”

“Really?” I was surprised. Pip had never mentioned the flea market. “Why?”

“You’ll see,” She just grinned, which was kind of a scary thing, but I forced myself to remember this was the woman who slept under me every night. I’m not sure that thought helped.

We didn’t take the scenic route up through the various levels. Bev led me straight to the lift and we took it all the way up to level nine. When we stepped off the lift, I found myself in a maelstrom of sound and color. Almost the whole deck was one big open bay. It was carved up into aisles and each one was lined with stalls where people were buying and selling. The booths consisted of everything from prefab units with pseudo-walls and glazed displays, to a couple with stack upon stack of storage cubes, to a few people who had simply spread blankets on the deck and laid out hand crafted jewelry or clothing items. Ship and orbital time was almost in sync here, and even at this early hour the place was crawling with people. I was glad to be with Beverly. A space seemed to open before her as she moved through the throngs. I saw other people being jostled periodically, but nobody bumped into Beverly and I rode happily in her bubble. If the Neris flea market was like this, I can see why my mother, fifty kilos and barely a meter and a quarter, would want to avoid it. I wasn’t sure I’d want to come here alone.

Beverly happily wandered up one aisle and down another, occasionally exchanging words and sometimes good-natured insults with the vendors. I marveled at the array of goods and just tried to keep up. Clothing seemed to be a popular item. I saw obviously handcrafted garments that had been created from whole cloth, as it were, to obviously purchased articles embellished with punch work, or embroidery and even rivets. Beverly spent some time looking over a red leather jacket with an elaborate dragon outlined in what appeared to be black steel rivets across the back. The thing was stunning on her, but she put it back on the rack and we left.