Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (11 page)

The chief scanned the storage bins quickly and found what she was looking for. “Gimme a hand here, Skipper?” She pointed to the pile of filter cartridges. She grabbed two of them and began stacking them in my arms like firewood. She gave me five and took the sixth one herself before elbowing open the hatch on the other end of the room. It opened into the engine room, and she flicked the lights on as she passed the hatch combing. The flashlight went back into her pocket and she flicked through a few screens of schematic until she found the one she wanted. She turned the screen to orient it to the scene in front of her, then—eeling between the massive machines—disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

I followed and found her pulling the latches on an upright cabinet. She had to put down the filter and tablet to free her hands, but the cover came away easily to reveal a badly sodden mass that I barely recognized as the inside of a scrubber.

She cursed again and set the cover aside, leaning it against the bulkhead, before turning back to Kirsten. “Ms. Kingsley? This isn’t my ship but if it were, I’d strip this mess out and replace it with fresh filter cartridges as soon as possible. Now is not too soon.” She shrugged. “It’s going to make a mess, but this—” she jerked her thumb at the mess in the scrubber cabinet, “—is what’s making the smell.”

“Would you do it for me, Chief?”

Chief Gerheart stuck her head back in the scrubber. Clogged filters slopped onto the deck before Ms. Kingsley finished speaking.

“Skipper? If you’d stand those spares over there?” She nodded with her head as her hands fumbled with the slippery releases. “We need to find a trash bin or something for these. And I saw a hose back in the stores locker. There should be a water fitting on the bulkhead just at the foot of the ladder over there.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the ladder.

By the time I’d dumped my load out of the way of the dirty filters coming out of the scrubber, Kirsten had wheeled over a trash bin and was getting her nattily-tailored suit filthy by grabbing the filters off the deck. I left that task to her and went in search of the hose.

It took us half a stan working together to get the rotting filters out of the scrubber, get it cleaned out to the chief’s satisfaction, and then re-load it with fresh cartridges. It didn’t help the smell immediately but given time, the circulation would clean it up. By then we’d become so inured to the stench, it was no longer gag-inducing.

“Thanks for the help. Sorry about the suit,” Chief Gerheart said to Kirsten, nodding to the slime streaks down the front.

Kirsten looked down at herself, arms held away from her body. “I didn’t like this suit anyway,” she said finally and grinned at the chief. “Thank you for this.” Her hand swept around to indicate the scrubber and clean deck around it.

Chief Gerheart smiled and ducked her head in acknowledgment. “Glad to help. I hate seeing ships suffer.”

“Well, you wanted to see the engineroom, Chief. What do you think?” I asked as I dried my hands on a bit of waste. I’m not sure why I bothered. My shipsuit would need to be recycled because I didn’t think cleaning would get the smell out.

The chief cast an uneasy glance at Ms. Kingsley and hesitated.

Kirsten grinned. “Please. This is not my area of expertise, Chief Gerheart. I’d take it as a kindness if you’d tell us both what needs to be fixed here.”

The chief nodded at Kirsten. “Okay, then. I need to poke around a bit, but right up front, it needs a good cleaning.” She pointed to the deck around the scrubber. “You can see the difference in the deck where we cleaned. How long has the ship been here unattended?”

“A week, maybe.”

The chief shook her head. “Then this is old dirt. If you’re gonna sell this ship, you’ll need to get it cleaned up for starters.”

She pulled the flashlight out again and started walking around with Kirsten hot on her tail. Every so often she’d stop, point out something with her light, and comment to Ms. Kingsley. After the second stop, Kirsten pulled out her own tablet and started making notes. I followed along behind, largely forgotten but enjoying the tour.

After a full stan of crawling through cabinets, looking behind huge machines, and even examining the ship’s air ducts, the chief shut off her flashlight and pocketed it. Kirsten made a few final notations on her tablet and filed the documents.

“So, you think this isn’t a bad ship, but needs some work?” Kirsten’s expression was intent on Chief Gerheart. I think she’d even forgotten she intended to sell the ship to me.

The chief sighed once, then scanned the room once more. “It looks like she’s been used hard, and run on a shoestring for a long time. You’re going to need to put some money into it to make it really safe and spaceworthy again.”

“These things you pointed out?” Kirsten held up the tablet.

“The fusactors need the most attention. The ship will need to be re-certified when you sell it. Those units won’t pass. They haven’t had the required periodic maintenance so they’ll need to be decommissioned, gutted, and rebuilt.” She shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, but it’ll take time.”

“What about the sail generators? You said they need work?”

“New coils. They flex over time. The metal gets fatigued and they need to be replaced. They’re standard parts and any competent re-fitter should be able to deal with them. It’s just one of those things that you’ll want to.”

“Thanks for this,” Kirsten said. “I’ve had ships inspected before but this is the first time I’ve gone along to see.”

The chief chuckled. “I’ll send you my bill.”

“Please do.” Kirsten smiled. “We owe you for this. While we’re at it, do you want to look over the galley and the bridge?”

“I’d love to. I’ve heard about these Higbee’s but this is the first one I’ve been on.”

The two of them wandered off toward the ladder and left me standing in engineering. I wondered how far they’d go before they realized I wasn’t with them. They disappeared through the hatch on the first deck, still chattering away. Kirsten had her tablet out, taking more notes.

I chuckled to myself and wandered back through the stores locker and onto the cargo deck. The ship almost thrummed from the sound of blowers cranked up on high to facilitate the change of air. The main deck was one of the largest open spaces I’d ever seen in a ship. I figured the space to be ten meters wide, perhaps as much as thirty meters long, and close to four meters from deck to overhead. That seemed like a lot of volume to me. I considered the general criticism on the design that said it was difficult to get a full nine and a half metric kilotons aboard. Filing that observation away, I wandered forward and up the ladder to the first deck to look for the others.

I found them on bridge with Chief Gerheart on her hands and knees, her head stuck inside a console. I could see the flashes from her light shining out through the cracks.

Her voice echoed in the metal cabinetry. “No, these are okay. I’d leave it up to the next owner to replace them or not.” She sneezed. “Needs cleaning, though.”

Kirsten actually giggled. “I’m not surprised at this point.” She saw me climb up the ladder. “Hi, Captain.”

“Hello, Kirsten. Is Chief Gerheart giving you the lowdown?”

“Oh, yeah. Greta’s been very helpful.”

I didn’t react to the use of her first name, but things seemed to have progressed a bit. I found that intriguing given the chief’s past.

The chief backed out of the cabinet, and stood. She started to dust down the front of her shipsuit and realized that the slime on it wasn’t quite dry, and that she really didn’t want it on her hands again.

“Okay, you two,” Kirsten said after a heartbeat. “Recommendations?”

I nodded for the chief to go first. “Well, I gave you the list in engineering for that space. There’s the one problematic chiller in the galley. You’ll want to have all those galley fittings gone over.” She paused and looked around the small bridge. “The electronics here are a bit dated, but adequate. The fiber-optics look sound, and the linkages seem okay. You’d need a good systems person to check out the internals there.” She shrugged. “That’s about it.”

Kirsten looked at me. “Captain?”

I thought about it for a few heartbeats. “You’ve got a lot of routine work that needs doing. Stuff that a crew should have done as a matter of course, but I’m guessing morale may have been a problem.”

Chief Gerheart nodded agreement, her mouth pinched together in a rueful-looking grimace.

“From my perspective, you have a couple of choices. Leave it for the new owner to deal with, and discount the price. Or you can fix it up and try for the best deal possible.”

She looked at me with a frown. “The way you say that makes me think you’re not interested in buying it yourself.”

The chief and I shared a glance. Kirsten saw it but before she worked out enough to ask, I said, “I might be, but after meeting with Larks, and doing a little homework of my own, I really can’t afford this ship.” I looked out the aft ports at the cold darkness beyond. “Or any other.”

Kirsten frowned. “What are you saying, Captain?”

I shrugged helplessly. “According to everything I’ve been able to learn, I just don’t have enough capital to go indie. Even after the most optimistic estimate on the
Chernyakova
, I can’t afford any of the smaller vessels currently listed here. My share isn’t even enough for a down payment.” I spread my hands to take in the
Jezebel
. “This is an interesting vessel, and I think it would be a good ship, but the bottom line is that I just can’t swing the bottom line.”

I could see the wheels turning in Kirsten’s mind, and we waited in uncomfortable silence until she spoke again. “I see,” she said at last. “Thank you, both. This has been enlightening.” She looked at me, then at Greta. “Don’t forget to send me that bill, Greta.”

Greta laughed .“I was just kidding.”

Kirsten arched an eyebrow. “I’m not. Bill me. Inspection services rendered. Two kilocreds.” Her severe expression relaxed. “It’s the least I can do, under the circumstances.”

Greta shrugged. “Okay, then. In that case, I’ll offer another bit of advice.”

Kirsten focused on her. “You’ve not steered me wrong yet. What is it?”

“Get a caretaker to live aboard.” Greta nodded her head in the direction of the stern. “That got so bad because there was nobody here to notice. You’re lucky it wasn’t something more serious, like a fire.” She shrugged. “Get somebody to live here, and keep the lights on, keep an eye on the ship. Automated sensors can do only so much.”

Kirsten nodded and made another note on her tablet. “Good thinking. I keep thinking this is only temporary but...” she shrugged and her voice trailed off. She looked back at me. “Captain, I’m going to do some research today and get back to you. Would you meet with another financial advisor if I send one to you?”

I shrugged. “Of course. I’ve got nothing to lose by talking about it.”

“Good,” she said, “Because something isn’t adding up and I’m going to try to get to the bottom of it.”

The chief and I traded glances again as Kirsten led the way down off the bridge.

“Is there anything else you want to see? Either of you?” She called over her shoulder as she started down.

Chief Gerheart shook her head at me and I answered, “I think we’re good for now, Kirsten. Thank you for the tour.”

On the deck below she turned her face up to us with an amused grin painted on it. “No, thank you. I’ve learned a lot from giving you two the tour.”

We secured the lock on the way off the ship and in the clean, cold air of the docks, the smell of our clothes wafted up and reminded us that we should avoid polite company until we could address the problem. At the entrance to the maintenance dock, Kirsten asked, “Are you available for dinner tonight, Captain? I’ve some people you should meet. Over dinner would be the right way to do it.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. I’ve got the overnight duty tonight.”

She nodded. “Tomorrow night?”

I shrugged. “That should work.”

“Excellent,” she beamed. “That’ll give me a chance to make sure I bring all the right people to the table. I’ll let you know when and where when I get it nailed down.”

She held out a hand to Chief Gerheart. “Thank you, Greta. If there’s anything you need from DST, call me.”

Greta took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. “Thanks, Kirsten. We’ll be getting underway in a couple of days, but I’ll definitely send you a bill.”

Kirsten grinned. “Good, now I better go change before I head back to the office.” With a jaunty wave she headed back down the docks.

The chief and I headed back toward the ship. I could see the chief mentally chewing on something.

I kept glancing at her out of the corner of my eye but she was staring at the deck in front of her. Eventually, I gave in and asked, “What?”

She grimaced and shook her head. “There’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

I nodded. “Yeah, there is.”

She looked up at me in surprise. “You know what it is?”

I shook my head. “Not entirely, and I’m not sure I should say.” I eyed the people walking past us, most giving us a wide berth in passing. I couldn’t blame them.

She frowned and poked me in the short ribs. “Come on, ya meanie. Give.”

“Why, Chief Gerheart, is that any way to speak to your captain?”

“Don’t give me that.” Her voice carried an undertone of something that sounded like real anger. She took a deep breath and let it out before saying, “You’re not going to be my captain too much longer, so stop being a jerk. Tell me.”

I looked down at her but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. “DST has a job for me after the
Agamemnon
.”

She screwed up her face but still wouldn’t look at me. “Okay, but that’s gonna be hard for them to do if they fire you.”

“Well, they want me to go indie.” I nodded my head back in the direction we’d just come from. “That ship is one that they’re retiring from service. It’s something that started before Mr. Maloney died, but they’re taking advantage of it.”

She glanced up at me, the angry frown obvious. “You’re not making a lot of sense there, Captain.”