The Bright Black Sea (2 page)

I'd only two theories why we here held – neither
explained the knot in my gut. Theory one was that I was to be
superseded as captain by Jann's first mate, Seni Shir, who, rumor
had it, was the leading candidate to replace Miccall. Though my
acting appointment was slated to end upon our return to Calissant,
if the managers of the Night Hawk Line wanted to reward Shir with a
captain's appointment, now was the time – before the Ministry of
Death paid us off. For the last 175 days I'd been looking forward
to reverting back to first mate, but could that knot be saying I'd
miss being captain now?

My second theory was even more innocent – Jann found
himself with a few containers for Pinelea and Calissant and hoped
to avoid the beach by handing them off to me. I'd be happy to
accommodate him. The
Lost Star
had fifty two containers for
Pinelea and Calissant so we couldn't avoid that particular fate.
Doing Jann a favor would cost me nothing. But again, why the
uneasy?

Glancing across to the
Comet King
, I caught
the spark of the gig pulling away from the ship and paused to watch
its flight. There was the brief flare of the gig's main rockets, a
flash of light as the gig was flipped and the flare of the main
rockets once more to decelerate. Jann was in a hurry – steering
rockets alone would've sufficed for three kilometers.

I took a final turn around the landing stage. Astro
and Orbit, the ship's dogs, paced me. They're both standard-issue
spaceship mutts, tall and thin and equipped with magnetic implants
in their paws to keep them anchored on the deck in free fall.
They've been aboard the
Lost Star
longer than I and had
developed a strange ability to sense when company was coming.
They'd been waiting on the landing stage when I arrived and were
far more excited by the prospect of Jann than I was. As the gig
loomed close, maneuvering to align with the extended gangplank,
they started barking and bounding about, threatening to lose all
contact with the deck. I held my hands on their backs to keep them
attached. You don't want excited dogs floating about.

Jann aligned the gig's hatch with the gangplank's
capture lock and made contact. The articulated tube curved a full
meter, springs creaking as it absorbed the boat's excess
velocity.

Neb, that annoyed me. Any pilot worth a pile of drift
dust can match speeds finer than that. Jann could, but never
bothered – always in too much of a hurry. Ram you, damn you, is his
style. I took a breath and reminded myself to stay pleasant and
diplomatic in dealing with Jann.

The safety door on my end of the gangplank slid open
and the dogs bounded eagerly forward on the thrust of an incidental
paw on the gangplank deck. I followed them with greater restraint.
At the far end, the air lock opened and Jann swung out, planting
his magnetic bio-controlled boots on the deck, and stood to take
the charge of the hounds.

When no one followed him out, the knot in my gut
untangled a little.

Jann's a Jornvanian, a heavy worlder, with a large
square framed body that a century in space has left lank and loose,
but still imposing. He sports a trim black beard with fierce eyes
deep set under dark bushy eyebrows. Neither in looks, nor in fact,
is he a fellow to trifle with.

'Down lads! And I don't need your kisses!' Jann
commanded as Astro and Orbit eagerly bounced about him. He greeted
the dogs with rough affection and extending his large hand to me,
booming, 'Great to see you again Wil... pardon me, Captain
Litang.'

'Welcome aboard Captain Jann. It's good to see you
again, as well,' I said, shaking his hand. 'Wil is fine.'

'No it's Captain Litang. We need to talk captain to
captain.'

'In that case, let's go up to the office,' I replied,
indicating access well and stairs at the far end of the
landing.

I felt a dart of joy. Seni may have dodged a comet,
being a first mate in space might be better than being an
unemployed captain on the beach – I'd likely find out – but I was
still captain, and to my surprise, I was happy.

Reaching the access well, we jumped and started up
the well shaft. The dogs bounded up the steep stairs that wrap
around two sides of the well. They're hapless in the access well.
When the whim strikes them – as it occasionally does, Neb knows why
– they inevitable end up as frantically flaying derelicts barking
for a tow.

Grabbing a pole as we reached the top, we swung out
and planted our magnetic soles on to the bridge deck. I waved Jann
into the ship's office across the companionway, followed him in,
chased the dogs out and slid the door-panel closed. 'Grab a seat
and take a load off your soles,' I said, slipping around the desk.
I wanted to be on the captain's side of the desk if (or likely
when) thrust came to blast.

Chairs in free fall are not strictly necessary but
standing anchored to the deck on one's magnetic soles for long
conversations is wearisome. Floating has its place, (honeymoons in
orbit are quite popular) but can be awkward and undignified. So
even in free fall, parking your trouser seat magnets on chair is
still the most natural way to relax.

'Can I offer you a drink?' I asked as he settled into
one of the chairs. 'A globe of Ysent rum?' A Jann favorite.

'Thanks, but business first. I take it you received
the radio-packet from Min & Co ordering you to wait on my
arrival?'

'Aye, I'm still here though I'm up against delivery
contracts,' I replied with a slightly bitter laugh, adding, 'And
without explanation, I might add.'

'We thought it best for me to deliver that
explanation in person. Radio-packets can be lost, misinterpreted or
ignored,' he remarked giving me a wink. 'I trust you've read the
trade advisories and analytics Min & Co has been sending
out.'

'Aye. Not that they matter. I can no longer avoid
Calissant and the beach.'

'Well Captain, we've a plan to help you avoid the
beach. Tallith Min, Pilot and Purser's daughter is back and now in
charge of Min & Co. I've been in contact with her. Together
we've devised a plan we hope will save the
Lost Star
from
being paid off and keep the Night Hawk Line operating while
Vinden's estate is sorted out.'

'Sounds very encouraging,' I assured him, trying to
keep my sudden wariness out of my voice. 'What's the plan?' What
lay behind his obviously rehearsed sell? He certainly didn't need
one merely to hand over half a dozen boxes...

'As you can imagine, the Ministry of Death has
neither the expertise nor interest in running tramp ships.'

'That's clear enough.'

'Moreover, the Ministry has only started the process
of cataloging Hawker Vinden's holdings, so the details of the
distribution haven't been released. Given the tangled web of
cross-ownership and the shell companies our Calissant tramp ship
owners love, the process will likely take many months. The key
issue is that any losses incurred by the shipping line comes out of
the assets of the estate, possibly reducing the inheritance of the
legatees who do not inherit the ships. Given the Ministry's duty to
protect the interests of all the legatees you can see why, with
shipping prospects so dismal, the Ministry is laying up Captain
Hawker's ships as they arrive home...'

I nodded. 'Makes sense – assuming the ships'll
operate at a loss.' Which, I must admit, was a discouragingly
likely assumption.

'Exactly! Tallith Min believes she can use that logic
to keep profitable ships running,' he continued enthusiastically.
'If a ship is making a profit, those profits and future profits
should benefit all the legatees. Plus, taking profitable ships out
of service, dispersing crews and abandoning customers will make it
much harder for the eventual legatees of the ships to get the Night
Hawk Line up and running again when the estate is cleared.' He
paused and gave me a measuring stare before continuing, 'Of course,
for this line of reasoning to work, you need ships showing a
profit, which is where the
Lost Star
comes in...'

'But certainly not all of the other five ships
they've laid up were in the red?' I didn't think it was simply a
matter of profit. Convenience had to have something to do with
it.

'Their profits hardly covered the expenses of paying
them off and laying them up. Plus those ships were laid up prior to
Tallith Min's return. However competent Kardea is at managing Min
& Co, she wasn't in a position to question Ministry's orders.
As the firms's owner, Tallith Min is willing to challenge the
Ministry to keep a profitable ship sailing.'

'That sounds encouraging.' Still something still did
not chart right. 'We kept ahead of the collapse outbound. I should
show a respectable profit for this voyage.'

For the last half century, the
Lost Star
has
operated almost like a scheduled cargo liner, circling the Azminn
system twice each year, calling on twenty some planets serving over
a hundred regular shippers. The outbound cargo had been normal,
only the inbound ones were reduced. Jann's
Comet King
operates as a pure tramp running cargoes within the Sanre-tay,
Rigtania and Pinelea sectors. If he'd been careful, he'd not been
caught with too many Pinelea/Calissant containers in his hold
before it became clear what the Ministry of Death's policy was.

But had he been careless, or caught unaware? I was
beginning to wonder...

'Tallith Min is quite pleased with your performance,
and she believes the
Lost Star
will make a strong case with
the Ministry,' he said, watching me closely.

'Not that we've a choice. Or do we?'

He ignored that. 'We also need to keep the remaining
Night Hawk Line ships operating in the Sanre-tay and Rigtania
sectors where there's still cargoes to be had. With only four ships
in operation, we can ill afford to send even one on to Calissant to
establish the precedent. Our priority is keeping the remaining
ships operating out of the Ministry's rather limited
oversight.'

'Yes, I can see that. And I'd be happy to take a
couple in-bound boxes off your hands as we've done in the past,' I
said, to cut his sell short. 'I don't need to be sold on the
idea.'

'Excellent. We're ready to start the transfer
immediately,' he said, but without the relief he should've shown if
it was really a clear course.

'How many inbound boxes do you have for me?' The real
issue.

'Forty-seven. Min has already cleared it with the
shippers and completed the documentation for the transfer. As the
operation will take some time, the sooner we get at it, the sooner
you're on your way.'

'Forty-seven! Why I've only fifty-two myself!' I
exclaimed, thinking rapidly. 'I'd been happy to take half a dozen
as a we've done in the past, but you've nearly as many onboard as I
have. That's a star of a different color. No wonder I wasn't
included on your plans. Sorry, you can't just shift those boxes to
me. We need to agree on a fairer solution.'

I'm a cautious fellow. But with my appointment ending
on Calissant, and the
Lost Star
likely being paid off as
well – plan or no plan – I didn't have much in the way of future
prospects to worry about. The
Comet King
could go on to
Calissant just as readily as
we could
, and
that made all the difference. I've not been a first mate for five
years without learning something about the business of running a
tramp ship.

'It's not a favor. It's an order, Litang,' Jann said,
his forbidding face growing more dangerous. 'The reason you're
going in is that with Fen Miccall's passing, I'm the line's most
senior Captain, its commodore. At the risk of sounding vain,
without Captains Vinden and Miccall the line needs someone with my
experience at the helm. I intend to make sure the Night Hawk Line
continues to operate and you'll do your part, which is to take my
boxes on to Calissant.'

'The
Lost Star
is the line's senior ship and
Captains Cringtin and ZaTarn are perfectly competent to carry on.
As for being commodore, well, you can call captains' meetings to
order, but it doesn't give you the lift to order us about.'

'I'll not engage in petty personal attacks, Litang,
and I'd expected better from you,' he shot back, adding, 'The line
has been good to you. A ship's captain after only – how many years
with the company?'

'Fifteen years...' I admitted.

'A ship's captain after only fifteen years. And by
Neb, it's only fifteen years in space, isn't it?

'I was a lighter pilot for five years and a Trade
Control pilot for three before signing on the
Lost
Star
...'

He dismissed my in-system experience with a wave of
his hand. 'Hawker and Fen where very generous to you and showed a
great deal of trust appointing you acting captain. But now, when
asked to repay that trust, to be loyal to their memory and shipping
line, you rear up and protest. This isn't about me, Litang. Its
about protecting their legacy. And it's about following orders
whether you like them or not,' he said, ending with a fierce
glare.

'Captain Miccall also taught me how to be a tramp
ship's captain. I know what's
required
of me and I'm afraid
I must respectfully decline to proceed with this scheme as
proposed.'

'You're
required
to follow these orders...' he
flared.

I shook my head. 'I think not.'

The “Night Hawk Line” existed only in Captain Hawker
Vinden's mind. As the majority owner of the nine tramp ships, he
operated his ships co-operatively as a “line” though in fact, each
ship was set up as a separate company. (Several, in fact.) The
Lost Star
and
Comet King
are two distinct companies.
Min & Co. may “manage” our operations but I'm the operating
officer of the
Lost Star
and only needed to concern myself
with the
Lost Star
. Loyalty cuts both ways, they hadn't
consulted me, so blast Jann's cant of loyalty.