Stories of the Confederated Star Systems (20 page)

Sterling nodded and turned to face him. "Aye, aye, Mate. If I'm not going to get beaten for asking, what business is the captain in?"

"Private enterprise. Legitimate hauling, mostly, with occasional forays into the black market and smuggling. She doesn't deal with drugs, though. Hates them."

"And our crew?"

"Captain, First Mate, Navigator, Chief Engineer, and Load Master."

Sterling looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Five of us? That's it?"

"Yep," Olaf replied, then he gave Sterling a lopsided grin and shrugged. "The
Jolly Jane
is a small ship. I hope you can cook. The four junior officers take turns. Varin was a great cook," he finished in a soft tone with a trace of real sadness in his voice.

"I haven't poisoned myself yet," Sterling replied.

"Change your suit's plumbing first, then change your clothes," Olaf commanded. "You can store those if you want, but it'll be a long time before you wear them again. Will, the Chief Engineer, will craft up a set of identity papers for you with the proper name and stamps for a merchant spacer. He'll make you a Navigator's Certificate with your new name as well. It’ll be a real University of New Switzerland certificate, signed by the dean. We transported thirty cases for them once and a case was 'destroyed' by a sanitary tank leak."

"Uck!" Sterling said as he looked at Olaf.

"Not really, you dolt," Olaf replied with a laugh. "We just delivered a box of waste paper soaked in brown water and sealed in a plastic container. They didn't open it to check and we paid the penalty without question."

Sterling shook his head slowly. "And what is my last name? Or has the captain decided yet?"

"You choose, just don't choose your old one."

Sterling considered his options for a moment, then sighed. "Mom's maiden name was Garand. Dad's name was Llewellyn. Silver Llewellyn Garand. Lords of Space, what a moniker."

"Not as bad as some, Silver," Olaf said with a laugh. "Not as bad as some." Then he left and closed the hatch.

Sterling sat on the bunk and stared at nothingness for a few moments before going to the suit rack and checking out his environment suit. It was indeed Navy issue, old but serviceable, and it was a matter of uncoupling two quick disconnects and plugging in the male attachments to make the plumbing change. He stripped down and tried on the suit and coupled himself up, remembering the training that had been drilled into him unmercifully twenty-eight years in the past by a CSS Marine drill instructor. He adjusted the straps and tanks for comfort, then stripped out. A set of ship's coveralls with Navigator on the right breast was laid out on the bunk and he squirmed into them.

Varin, it turned out, had had a big butt and what must have been an impressive chest. She had also been at least five centimeters taller than Sterling's one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters. The coveralls hung on him like a sack.

Sighing, he pinched the fabric at the waist and chest.
Take this in, pull this up, tighten it a bit here
his thoughts rambled as he tried to make the coveralls fit. He finally gave up, grabbed a cargo strap that was meant to secure items to the bulkhead and wrapped it around his waist as a belt, then folded the cloth under his arms and tied it down. He cuffed his legs up six centimeters and checked himself in the mirror.
I look like a little kid in his dad's clothes
he silently complained, then opened the hatch and stepped out.

"Turn left and go up one deck," a voice said and he turned to find himself facing a small man in a nicely tailored set of coveralls. "I'm called Jeremiah, Silver. Load Master, in accordance with requirements of the Confederate Government. Will is already up in control with the captain and mate."

Sterling turned and started walking, with Jeremiah right on his heels. "Are you a voluntary crewmember, or like me?" Sterling asked without turning.

"Oh, like you, I suppose. Some people wanted me dead on New Portugal a while back and old Captain Jim took me off their hands. It's been ten Confederate Standard years since then. You're the first new face Captain Denise has brought aboard. She was Navigator when I came in."

"And Captain Jim?"

"Lost a bar-fight on Roma Gratia. Captain Erin was after him. Lost her mind to synthetic heroin. That's why Captain Denise hates drugs so much. It's only been three CS years since then. Hurry up. It doesn't do to keep the captain waiting." Jeremiah motioned for Sterling to hurry and they climbed up the stairs at a near run.

Captain Denise looked up as they emerged from the stairs and a sudden grin flashed across her face but was quickly suppressed. "You need to do some sewing, Silver. Take a seat. You've met everyone except Will," she said, motioning to the man at her left. He nodded but didn't say anything. "He'll have your name tag done later in the day. Ship time is 1330, by the way. You're fortunate that Will was cooking today. Take your seats and we'll begin."

Sterling and Jeremiah moved toward the two open seats with Sterling hanging back a little to let Jeremiah pick his seat. When they were seated, bowls of food were passed around and they served themselves. Sterling found that the smell of the food was enough to remind his stomach that it had been a long time since he had last eaten.

The food was standard space fare: dried, canned, reconstituted vegetables with dried, canned, reconstituted meat-textured soy protein. Will, it turned out, had a flare with spices that made the food actually taste good. The food vanished from Sterling's plate quickly and the others around the table chuckled. "Have more if you want," Captain Denise said and Sterling didn't have to be invited twice.

After the meal, Sterling found himself pressed into service doing the dishes. "Figures," he muttered under his breath as he quickly saw to the minor chore. When he was done, he returned to find charts on the table.

"We're carrying a shipment of bovine embryos to New Texas for the Arvantan Beef Cartel. I can't wait. New Texas is the only planet in the Confederacy where we can afford real beef instead of textured soy or some other animal protein. Have you ever tried it?" she asked, turning toward Sterling.

"No, Ma'am," he replied with a shake of his head. "Until I left the Flaming 'O'
I never had the money, but it was on my agenda. I wanted to see what all the shouting was about. What's our trip time?"

"Nineteen days ship time in hyper, plus acceleration and deceleration. While we're in hyper I want you to get to know our navigation suite and refresh your memory on the charts, and especially the charts for New Texas. We don't have to land on the planet, so all we'll need is a good orbital vector when we arrive." She smiled as he nodded his understanding. "New Texas Space Terminal Control will guide us the last few million kilometers. We just have to get there."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Sterling obeyed the captain, but his mind was on other things.
How did I get myself into this? And how do I get out again?
He knew at least part of the answer to his first concern. When he’d signed the divorce papers he’d lost his will to do anything but simply survive. Ann had been his life—and he’d let her slip away. As for getting away,
This old tub doesn’t have the legs for a really long journey. I can always jump ship somewhere with a large population. What are they going to do, complain to the authorities?

S
TERLING FOUND HIMSELF SUFFERING FROM SOMETHING
of a split personality for a few days. He didn't always recognize that someone was talking to him when he heard the word silver. It took nearly a week before he began thinking of himself as Silver instead of Sterling.

There were other changes as well, though he was only peripherally aware of them. He was turning into a full member of the crew, and losing the shanghaied sailor mentality that he'd started with. He started thinking of the
Jolly Jane
as his ship, and the crew as his crew. Most importantly, he began thinking of Captain Denise as
his
captain.

The ship emerged from hyperspace outside the New Texas system and began decelerating in order to match orbit with the planet. Silver plotted the course and passed velocity recommendations and course corrections to Captain Denise. She passed them to Olaf, which was unnecessary since Olaf was between her and Silver, but that was the way things were done on the
Jolly Jane
.

They had been in-system bound for nine hours before they were contacted by the New Texas authorities. The communications center had been set to the New Texas Space Terminal Control frequency long before they left hyperspace and the message was expected.

"Ship entering New Texas space, this is New Texas Space Terminal Control. We have you entering on a least time vector to make orbit. Please transmit your documentation as soon as you receive this message. New Texas STC out."

Captain Denise pressed a stud on the arm of her chair and the proper information was immediately sent to the STC. "And now we wait. How long until we make orbit, Mister Silver?"

"Seventeen days, nine hours, and thirty-nine minutes, Captain," Silver replied.

"Very well. It's your turn to cook. I'll take over Nav while you fix lunch."

Silver nodded and stood, pushing the toggle that transferred his station to the captain's console. "Light or heavy, Ma'am?" he asked as he headed toward the galley.

"Light," she replied absently. "I'm not all that hungry today." Silver nodded and descended to the galley.

* * *

When they reached the inner system, the mess orders changed. "We're all going to be very busy unloading our cargo for three or four hours after we arrive, so fix something hearty and filling. We won't have time to stop and eat again until we're done."

"Aye, Ma'am," Sterling replied and headed aft to start cooking. Half an hour later he delivered steaming hot dishes of what could almost pass for stew to each member of the crew at their stations, then sat down to eat as well. When he finished eating, he started collecting the dishes and washing up. As Navigator, he was the only member of the crew who wasn't needed at their station right now. Even Load Master Jeremiah was busy preparing to unload.

Silver returned to his post and resumed control of the navigation systems, then did a quick sensor sweep. There was nothing ahead of them, so he sat back and relaxed. A buzzer alerted him three hours from orbit. "Minus three hours, Ma'am. Initiating ten second sensor sweeps for debris." He toggled in the necessary command and sat back again.

At one hour to orbit New Texas STC contacted them again. "Space Vessel
Jolly Jane
, you are directed to follow trajectory three-five-five by zero-one-seven to Orbital Dock Eight, Port Seventeen. Do not unseal your hatches until cleared by dock personnel to do so. Failure to obey this regulation is punishable by up to ninety days imprisonment and a fine of five-hundred thousand credits."

"Which means we'll obey," Captain Denise said to the room in general. "Olaf, send the message to our consignee that his cattle have arrived. It'll take longer for us to get through Customs than it will for him to reach orbit, but he can wait for a while."

The next hour was full of carefully executed maneuvers to avoid ships that were drifting at anchor and maintain the STC’s approved course. At fifty-nine minutes from the one hour mark the
Jolly Jane
matched velocities and came to rest relative to the space dock, and the unloading umbilical extended toward them.

"And now the fun begins," Captain Denise said as she stood up from her post. She pressed a stud on her chair arm and spoke to the cargo deck. "Jeremiah, has Station Health Services and Customs contacted you yet?"

"Their probe is in the hull as we speak, Ma'am," Jeremiah's voice answered. "Customs is examining our manifest through the viewer, but they seem satisfied so far."

"Very well. I'll be down in a moment to finalize our delivery." She let go of the stud and headed for the access way. "Let's go gentlemen. The sooner we unload, the sooner we get some real beef."

The process of unloading the small ship was complex and time consuming simply because the ship was so small. The cargo containers had to be manhandled to the hatch because none of the port handling equipment could fit inside the hold. Rolling hydraulic jacks, rail-mounted chain hoists and muscle power were all the cargo handling equipment that the
Jolly Jane
boasted.

As the captain had predicted, it took almost four hours to unload all of the frozen embryos and collect their payment from the Arvantan representative. She immediately paid their fees, and the ship was refueled and the stores replenished, which left them with only fifteen thousand, five hundred and sixty-two credits profit.

"That seems like a slim margin, Ma'am," Silver commented when the tally was in.

Captain Denise nodded. "That's our life: on the margin. This is actually a good profit for us. Some trips we barely break even, though we've only had one losing trip under my command. It was only two hundred and ten credits, but it hurt to have misjudged that badly. Now we can get some
real
food. There's a chain of restaurants called Carlie's that service the space docks in New Texas. They are owned by one of the consortiums and have the best prices for beef in the system--in orbit, at least. There are places groundside that are cheaper, but you have to get there first." She flashed a smile at her crew and led them off the ship, pushing the control at her waist to lock the ship behind them.

Carlie's Steak House was half way around the station from Port Seventeen, and Silver was impressed by the shops they passed along the way. It seemed that just about everything was available on the space dock. It was just too bad that his credit chip was seven parsecs away and probably delivered to Ann by now. Captain Denise led them into the restaurant and they were immediately met by a man in a strange hat, pointed-toed boots, leather leggings and vest, and the biggest belt buckle Silver had ever seen.

"What can I do for you hombres?" he asked in a strange accent.