Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) (48 page)

After about two stans of course after course, the meal ended with a lovely
tong shui
. It was a good thing it did, too, because I had already eaten more in that one meal that I had all week. It amused and quietly pleased me that Ms. Maloney kept up even though we lost the chief and Ms. Arellone somewhere between the fried pork dumplings and the
hunan
chicken.

When it became clear that we were through, Jimmy himself brought us the check. He presented it to me with a flair, and I laughed when I saw it.

I looked up at him, “Jimmy? Is this some kind of joke?”

He put on a look of one who has been grievously wounded. “Ishmael, my friend, you have cut me to the quick. How would it look if people think Jimmy Chin gives away his food, huh? I ask you, how would it look?”

I tsked in sympathy, and shook my head. “Forgive me, old friend. I should have considered your reputation. I meant no offense.” I bowed in my seat—as well as I could around the table and my stuffed belly.

He returned the bow, going much lower than I had. “None taken, old friend.”

I added a generous tip, thumbed the amount, and handed it back before rising.

Ms. Arellone and the chief were up in a flash and standing between us and the door. Jimmy caught the movement, and gave me a little shrug as if to say, “What can you do?”

I held out my hand. “Thank you, again, Jimmy. I’ll stop by the next time I’m on station.”

He shook it warmly, his eyes crinkling around the edges with his smile. “Thank you, Ishmael. I’ll look forward to it.”

He turned to Ms. Maloney and reached out his hand. “And you, Ms. Maitland. Don’t be such a stranger.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. I’ll be back as soon as I digest this meal.” She patted her stomach in unabashed chagrin. “Sometime in May, if I’m any judge.”

We shared a laugh, and the two guards led us, as nonchalantly as possible, out of the restaurant.

When we were back on the lift, and heading down, Ms. Maloney looked to me and asked, “What was that about? The joke thing?”

I grinned at her “The amount was not what I expected.”

Her eyebrows went up in surprise and a bit of interest. “Really? I would have expected a meal like that to cost rather a lot.”

“Me, too, Ms. Maitland.”

She frowned in confusion. “Pardon me for being gauche, but you’ve piqued my interest now. How much did he charge you?”

“Four credits.”

She blinked at me in disbelief. “The bill was four credits?”

“Yes, hence his comment about giving away meals. He didn’t give it away. He charged us a credit a piece. Nobody ate for free.”

Ms. Maloney shook her head. “Now I’m jealous, Captain.”

I arched an eyebrow in her direction. “Jealous of what, Ms. Maitland?”

“Your relationship with Jimmy Chin.” She shook her head in mock despair.

The lift doors opened, and I started to step off onto the docks before I realized that we’d stopped one deck short. A tall, bookish looking man rushed on, and ran headlong into Chief Bailey. He bounced off with a muttered apology.

The chief grabbed him, and started to fling him to the deck, but held his impulse. As the lift doors closed, the man blinked a couple of times looking at the chief’s face carefully while the chief’s hands twitched.

“Well, my word! It’s Gramps, isn’t it? Gramps Bailey? Where’s your lovely charge?” He exclaimed, his eyes raking our group. His gaze froze on Ms. Maloney. “There she is!” He tried to untangle himself from the chief briefly before he realized the chief held him firmly by the front of his jacket.

“Andrew? Andrew Leyman? Is that you?” She stepped forward to greet the man with a hug, forcing Chief Bailey to release him and step back.

The lift continued down to the docks, and the doors opened as they continued their effusive greetings. We stepped off the lift to make room for a group of spacers waiting to get on. The chief and Ms. Arellone both twitched as we slipped around the crowd of too many people all at once. I sighed inwardly.

“I never expected to run into you here, hon. I thought you lived over on Diurnia. What are you doing here?” Mr. Leyman asked when the initial greetings ran down. His eyes went to her spacer cropped hair. He didn’t comment on it, but he clearly wasn’t expecting it.

“Normally, I do. I’m just passing through,” she said. “But what about you? What in the world are you doing here? I thought you had gone back to Vervaire to teach.”

He shrugged. “It was too boring. Same silly students quarter after quarter. All wanting top marks for average work. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I practically drowned in committee work. I gave it up, and went back into the field.” His eyes flickered to me, and then Ms. Arellone, as he talked.

“What are you doing on Welliver?”

“Oh, I’ve been down on the planet doing some survey work on the substrata distribution of mineral deposits.” He grinned. “When I left university, I started my own business. Leylines. It’s worked out splendidly. Beyond my wildest dreams. Who’d have thought seismic survey work would be in such demand?”

She got the high sign from the chief, and I had to admit standing there in the icy cold dock was beginning to strain my tolerance.

“Well, that’s wonderful, Andrew!”

He stopped gushing about his business for a moment, and his face turned serious. “What about you, hon? I heard about your father. How are you? I was so sorry to hear.”

“I’m fine, Andrew,” she reached out to touch him on the arm. “Thank you. It was a terrible shock, as you might imagine, but life goes on.”

He sighed. “Oh, I know. I lost my mother a couple of stanyers back. It’s just so unexpected when they pass on so young.” He smiled at her in sympathy, genuine warmth in his eyes. As if suddenly realizing that we were all standing around freezing on the docks he stepped back. “Well, I won’t keep you, hon. I see you’ve got things to do, but it was so wonderful to see you.”

“And you, Andrew! You take care of yourself.”

“Always do,” he assured her with a grin. He pressed the call button on the lift, and we started to walk along when he called after us. “Say, Christine?”

The chief flinched as his voice carried her name out and across the docks.

She turned to look at him.

“You might be able to help me. Do you know any ships going to Ten Volt? I’ve got a new job there the first of next month, and I’ve shipped my gear, but getting there myself is proving a bit of a challenge.” The lift doors opened, and he stood in the opening to keep them from closing as he spoke.

She shot me a look, and I shrugged. “Can’t hurt to talk to the man,” I said.

We changed course, and followed him back onto the elevator. He looked around at us curiously, and Ms. Maloney pressed the button for Deck Six.

“Andrew? This is Captain Ishmael Wang...” I nodded to him. “And Ms. Stacy Arellone...” She continued to size him up. “And you know Chief Bailey.” He gave his happy-go-lucky grin, and a nod. “For security reasons, I’m Catherine, not Christine. Let’s get some coffee, and we’ll have a little chat, shall we?”

“Ok. Sure,” he agreed, curiosity painted on his face. I had to give him credit he didn’t ask any questions, and followed her lead in spite of his obvious confusion.

When the doors opened, we all stepped off. Ms. Maloney cued Ms. Arellone to lead us to starboard where we found a quiet coffee shop with a few booths around the edges and a lot of empty tables. After getting our drinks, Andrew, Ms. Maloney, and I slid into a booth, and the chief and Ms. Arellone settled at the nearest table.

Andrew noted the arrangement. I could see his eyes flick curiously at them as we settled. “Seems like overkill doesn’t it, Chr—ah—Catherine?”

Ms. Maloney shrugged . “Insurance company requirement. Not much I can do about it.” She sipped her coffee before getting down to business. “So? Tell me about Ten Volt.”

“I’ve got a rush job. The company there found some new deposits, which for obvious and non-disclosure reasons I’ve already said too much about, but I need to get there by the first of the month to do some subsurface mapping. I’ve got a couple of tons of equipment in transit there already, I think, but getting me there is not so easy. As much traveling as you do, you know as well as I how difficult it is to get that far in less than half a lifetime.” He sipped.

“Couldn’t charter a packet?” she asked him with an eyebrow raised in my direction.

“Oh, there were plenty who were interested when I started looking a week ago, but when they found out I needed to go to Ten Volt, they lost interest quickly. They all had passengers or cargo commitments that kept them from taking a charter and none of them were heading in Ten Volt’s direction.” As he talked he kept glancing in my direction. He didn’t ask but it was clear from his expression he hoped I was the solution to his problem.

Ms. Maloney looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and nodded at the man.

“Well, as it happens we have a shipment going to Ten Volt. It’s supposed to be loaded tomorrow, and we’re pulling out the day after,” I said.

His eyes widened, and he smiled hopefully looking from Ms. Maloney to me and back.

“If it’s a question of money, Captain...?”

I shook my head. “My problem is that I don’t have the correct license to carry passengers. I should have it tomorrow, and then we can talk about giving you a ride.”

Ms. Maloney grinned at him. “You’ll be our very first passenger, Andy. How do you feel about being a guinea pig?”

He laughed. “I’ll be your door mat, if it’ll get me to Ten Volt by the first.” He looked back at me. “When will you know, Captain?”

I shrugged. “I should know by noon tomorrow, and we can figure out what’s what after that.”

“Perfect!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got a room up at Orbit House. You can find me there and let me know?”

Both Ms. Maloney and I nodded.

“Excellent. Thank you!” He reached out to shake my hand.

I returned the honor but warned him. “Don’t thank me yet. I still have to work through the red tape.”

“I understand red tape, Captain, trust me on that.”

Both he and Ms. Maloney snickered a little, and I suspected a story lay behind the laugh.

We finished our coffee, and headed for the lift.

“I’ll contact you at Orbit House when we have more information, Andy.” We stopped and she smiled warmly. “It’s great seeing you again.” She gave him a hug which he returned with gusto.

The lift pinged for “up” and he stepped into the car. “Tomorrow!” he said by way of farewell, and the doors closed behind him.

While we waited for the next car, Ms. Maloney turned to me. “What do you think, Captain?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, unless I miss my guess, our cargo is his gear.”

She nodded in agreement.

“He seems a nice enough guy that, if we’re not exactly the
Ben Franklin
, he’ll be willing to overlook it.”

“Not to mention desperate,” she added.

A short laugh barked out of me. “There’s that.”

The lift opened, and we got on, pressing the button for the docks.

“All I have to do now is pass the test,” I muttered.

“We got faith in ya, Skipper,” Ms. Arellone offered.

Ms. Maloney murmured, “Trust Iris.”

The doors closed, and we headed back to the ship.

Chapter Forty-Two
Welliver Orbital:
2373-January-13

Ms. Arellone escorted me to the CPJCT offices after the breakfast mess where I presented myself for an examination for Small Craft Steward Endorsement. If the functionary behind the counter thought anything about my traveling with an able spacer, she didn’t say anything about it or even seem to notice.

She took my name and license number, had me pay the endorsement exam fee, and, after checking her records, escorted me to a booth where Ms. Arellone stood outside while I took a seat in front of the machine.

The functionary made sure I understood how to use the equipment, and left me with, “Take all the time you need, Captain. It’s not a timed exam.”

I dug in and lost myself in the wonders of food preparation, passenger liability, rights and responsibilities of officers operating in deep space, and myriad details of equal import. After a while, I realized I’d come to the end of the questions and, bypassing the opportunity to check my answers, filed the exam. A quick glance at the chrono explained why my back and legs ached. I stood from the chair, and shook out the stiffness.

In a moment, a different functionary opened the door, and led me back to the counter. Ms. Arellone looked a little worse for the wear of standing outside the door for the better part of four stans, but she followed along.

At the counter, the functionary checked my results, nodded in satisfaction, charged me the actual endorsement fee—a signal that I had passed—and turned to look at me.

“Congratulations, Captain. Once you receive the endorsement on your record, you can legally transport passengers, not to exceed ten on any single trip, anywhere in the Western Annex.”

Ms. Arellone smiled happily, but something in his tone made me wait before celebrating.

“We will transmit the endorsement to you electronically within the next seven to ten working days and will forward a physical representation to your next port of call. Which will be...?” He paused, hands on keys, looking expectantly at me.