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The room was down a side passage. I opened the lock and stepped into a hotel suite that seemed huge after two stanyers living in the cramped berthing area. There was a living room with a wet bar and small chiller. A large holo unit hung on one wall across from a comfy looking couch with coffee tables on either side. There was also a love seat and some overstuffed chairs. It was big enough to have a good-sized party in. I laughed softly to myself and wondered if that was Lois’s intention. The room had a small head—bathroom, I corrected myself—just to the left of the entry door and to the right, a door to the next room was ajar. I pushed through into the bedroom. It was not as large as the main room, but still substantial with two full-sized beds.

As I stowed my duffel in the closet, I wondered what I would need for clothes on the trip to Port Newmar. I knew I would be buying uniforms and filling a new duffel bag when I got to the school, so I was less concerned about that. When I visited the
Bad Penny
in Niol, Pip’s cousin Roger had been aboard but not wearing a shipsuit. I needed information and I reached for my tablet before I remembered it was gone. The civilian model peeda just didn’t have the same communications options, and I wondered if I could find a spacer grade tablet of my own.

I really needed to talk to Pip.

Then I remembered my portable. If it could tie into the ShipNet, maybe it would find the station net the same way the tablets did. In two ticks, I had it set up on the coffee table and logged in. The computer found the hotel connection without difficulty, and I pulled up the standard station access including messages and the Union Hall display. The
Bad Penny
was listed as inbound.

I dropped Pip a message so he would have my civilian address and asked, “Should I buy more civvies for the trip or does the Penny have shipsuits?” While I was at it, I dropped Mr. von Ickles a similar query about the availability and advisability of tablets. My portable was nice, but I really missed the tablet.

I sat back then and took a deep breath. The connection via station net made me feel a bit better. I was not really cut off completely, and I could contact people when I needed to. Of course, the only people I knew to contact were on the ship, but that would change as Pip and I started out on our new adventure to Port Newmar, or when the ship left—whichever came first.

I stood up just as the response from Pip came back. “I’ll be there right after lunch tomorrow. Relax. We’ll go shopping.”

Mr. von Ickles’ response came in right behind it. “Don’t buy anything. I’ll explain at the party.”

I can certainly wait that long
, I thought as I settled back on the sofa. The cushions were soft and comfy in ways that I had not known I had missed aboard ship for two stanyers. I snorted a soft laugh at myself. Funny the things you never notice.

The suite was almost silent. I could hear the faint environmental noises from the air ducts, and people out in the passageway as if they were a long way off. The fan in my laptop sounded loud in the hush. I sat there for as much as two ticks, listening to the quiet and marveling that I didn’t have anything to do for the next few stans. Nothing at all. After two stanyers aboard the
Lois
—and during my entire life before that, if I were honest about it—I finally had nothing I needed to do, and nobody I needed to answer to, except myself.

The heady notion collapsed under the weight of not knowing what to do next.

I chuckled to myself and stood to hang my coat up in the closet beside my duffel when I remembered the chip. My fingers slid into the inner pocket of the jacket and pulled out Henri Roubaille’s data chip with the flourished R on the case. I checked my impulse to hang up the coat and, instead, changed course for the door. A short visit to Chez Henri was just what the doctor ordered.

Chez Henri was still in the same place and looked the exactly as I remembered. Entering through the front doors, I noticed that even the woman at the podium hadn’t changed. I was surprised when her eyes widened in recognition.

“M. Wang,” she said with a smile, “how nice to see you again.”

I do not know if she really remembered me or just picked up a biosensor relay somewhere, but being greeted by name after only one visit over a year ago certainly perked up my ego.

“Hello, and thank you. It’s good to be back,” I replied, holding out the chip to her. “I’d like to see about getting a few fresh shirts? And perhaps a pair if dress slacks?”

She slotted the chip but gave the readout only a perfunctory glance before replying, “Of course, monsieur. If you’d come this way?” She led me through one of the side doors to a waiting room and pointed out a comfy chair. “Please make yourself comfortable. M. Roubaille will be along in just one moment. May I get you some refreshment?”

“No, thank you, mademoiselle. I’ll be quite comfortable.”

She gave a small wink and a smile as she left to return to her post.

No sooner had she exited when M. Roubaille bustled in from the other door with a beaming smile and an outstretched hand. “M. Wang! A pleasure to see you again. Without your entourage this time?”

“Yes, monsieur.” I stood to shake his hand and we settled into opposing chairs. “I’ve left the
Lois McKendrick
en route to the academy at Port Newmar. They couldn’t be with me this afternoon.”

“
Dommage
, but you are moving up and moving on and you have come to me for assistance with your wardrobe. Congratulations on being accepted to the academy. An excellent establishment,” he said before turning to the business at hand. “How may we help you today?”

“I need some fresh shirts and under things. I’ll be in transit for the next few weeks and I suspect my supply of civilian attire is inadequate to the journey.”

He pursed his lips in a small moue of consideration and squinted his eyes slightly as he observed me. “Perhaps,” he said with a small question in his voice. “Maybe we need to see what we see.”

He stood suddenly and beckoned me to follow as he bustled out the same door he had entered. “Come, Ishmael. We have work.”

It was a simple matter to select a few shirts and some fresh underwear, but M. Roubaille refused to stop there. “Come, come, Ishmael. You’ve worn that jacket and jeans for too long. It’s time for you to move up. You’re going to the academy and you must be properly attired,” he chided me and held out a dark coat. “Just try this on.”

I sighed and laughed. “Very well, monsieur.” I relented and let him slip the coat on over my arms and settle it across my shoulders before turning to the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize the man looking back at me. He smiled tentatively at first and then with more assurance. I recognized some of him from those many months ago when I first signed the Articles on Neris and saw him for the first time in his shipsuit in the locker room before heading up to the
Lois McKendrick
. He had grown since. Not just in frame, but there was something about the eyes and the set of his mouth in a kind of half smile. I recognized the jacket with a shock as well. It was not the same one that I had tried on at Bresheu’s booth back on St. Cloud, but it was very similar. The fit was exquisite and I now recognized it as being cut in a classically elegant style. A bit dramatic, perhaps, but where I had considered it too theatrical at Bresheu’s, I now realized it to be merely stylish. The dark charcoal color with small flecks of a darker gray was so tastefully done as to almost melt in your mouth.

I must have stared for a long time because M. Roubaille prompted me. “Is everything all right, Ishmael?”

My focus shifted to look at him in the mirror and I smiled. “Oh, yes, monsieur. Very good. I was just reminded of something and became lost in my thoughts.”

He smiled knowingly. “It happens. This jacket looks very good on you. A bit more formal than your peacoat, but less formal than the dress uniforms you’ll be required to wear at the academy functions. Perhaps a good transitional piece for your wardrobe?”

“Do you have a pair of slacks that would go with this, perhaps?” I asked with a smile. I had no idea how I was going to pay for this and still afford the academy, but I was determined to at least look.

M. Roubaille smiled and produced a pair of slacks in a slightly lighter tone of charcoal. In no time at all I was wearing the most exquisite suit I’d ever seen. After the obligatory stretching, straightening, and adjusting, he pronounced the fit
parfait
and I knew that I had found what I had come for.

The moment of truth collapsed upon me then and I asked to see the accounting.

“Of course, M. Wang,” M. Roubaille said with a smile, as I finished re-dressing in my original clothing. He handed me a tablet with the purchases itemized. I avoided looking at the total as I scanned down the list of smaller items at the top and reached the bottom without gasping. The prices were very reasonable and even the total with the jacket and slacks was only slightly more than I had paid a year before. I knew I had more than enough cash to cover it, but the thought of going to the academy knowing I didn’t have enough to finish gave me pause.

M. Roubaille was arranging to get the slacks hemmed to the correct length with one of the assistants, and I caught sight of the lush fabric once more. Before I could talk myself out of it, I thumbed the contract. There would be plenty of opportunity for regret, and for once, I was willing to take a chance that I might regret buying the suit over the certainty that I would regret leaving it.

I handed the tablet back to him. “Thank you, M. Roubaille. That is quite satisfactory.”

He smiled when he took the tablet back. “Thank you, Ishmael. We’ll have these delivered to your suite within two hours. I trust that will be adequate?” he said as we walked back through the lobby and beyond.

“Very, M. Roubaille, and I thank you once more for a wonderful time.” I smiled and we shook hands.

Grasping both my hands in his, he looked me straight in the eye and said with a little twinkle, “May you become the man you wish to be, Ishmael.” He grinned, waved, and disappeared back into the shop, leaving me standing in the passageway with an amused smile on my face.

I headed toward the lift with no real destination in mind and soon found myself wandering through the flea market. My first trip seemed so far away and so long ago. I watched for things I might take with me to Port Newmar, thinking that perhaps a few small items could go in my duffel for sale before I left the orbital there.

“Ishmael!” The voice caught me by surprise and I looked around to find that I had practically walked into the co-op booth without noticing. Tabitha stood there with a big grin on her face and Sean was behind her selling one of his afghans to what appeared to be a local. “You lost?”

I grinned in reply as I saw more of the co-op members busily engaged in trade of various kinds. Most of them smiled and nodded toward me, but didn’t break off their dealing. “No,” I laughed. “Just stopped by to see if there was something I could tuck in my duffel to sell when I get to Port Newmar.”

“Find anything yet?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’ve only just arrived. Last time we were here, I found some nice batik fabric and some prints.”

“Ooh,” she said. “I remember that batik. It was gorgeous. That was right when we started the co-ed crochet team!”

“You guys doing okay with that?”

Sean finished his sale and came over to answer, “It’s been great.” He looked shyly at Tabitha who winked and grinned back. “We’re making enough goods to really make some serious money. Sarah is taking to it like a duck to water, and she’s getting top creds for her work too.”

Something in the way Tabitha looked at Sean made me think that there was more going on than just crocheting, but I didn’t get into it. I just smiled and said, “That’s wonderful.” After a few more ticks of small talk, I wished them continued success and wandered on down the aisles.

Seeing them reminded me that the reason we had done so well in the various flea markets was because of the co-op and it occurred to me that I wouldn’t have a co-op to sell in at Port Newmar. While I could certainly rent a booth there, the idea of carrying cargo from here to there seemed, less attractive. In spite of that I wandered in the flea market until the chimes sounded the closing and I drifted out with the human tide.

With nowhere else to go, I headed back to the room. The clerk smiled and winked as I entered. I was not sure what the wink was for until I got to the room. I found my packages from Roubaille’s and Beverly both waiting for me.

She sat on the sofa, clicking through something on her tablet and looked up as I entered. “There you are. Busy afternoon?” she smiled as she nodded at the tastefully bundled parcels.

I smiled back. “Passable. I needed a few things for the trip. Went up to the flea to see what I could see.” I made it a little sing-songy and trying to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest.

She grinned and stood, crossing to me, and giving me a hug. “I’m glad you’re back. I’m starved. Let’s go get something to eat.”

She led me out of the hotel and headed to starboard. She stopped at the entrance of a tastefully decorated restaurant and kissed me in full view of anybody who happened to be watching a wanton and shameless public display of affection. I did so hope somebody was watching, because I think it was worth the look. “There’s more where that came from,” she whispered. We went in and when the maitre d’ asked, she said, “McKendrick for 6 pm?”