Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) by Nathan Lowell
She took a grip on the handles, and the cross hairs almost instantly twitched out of alignment. “Oooh, aren’t you the touchy thing,” she said to the ship. It didn’t take her long to get the feel for it, even lowering the sails slightly to pull the strain level back, and giving us a nice smooth ride.
“Very nice, Ms. Arellone.”
“Thank you, sar.” She began to relax a little at the helm.
“Now, would you teach, Ms. Maloney the finer points of helm watch?”
“Me, sar?” Her voice fairly squeaked, and I thought Ms. Maloney paled a bit, although in the dim light it was difficult to tell.
“You, Ms. Arellone. It’s good practice for your ship handling exam, and I need more coffee. ” I headed for the ladder very deliberately. “You have the conn, Ms. Arellone.”
Before I got my head below the level of the deck, she called after me. “But, sar! What happens if I have a question?”
“Yell, Ms. Arellone. I’ll just be in the galley.” With a private grin, I dropped down the ladder and went into the galley.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Diurnia System:
2372-December-28
Most of the afternoon was gone by the time we got out to operational range. My hope was that leaving Ms. Arellone to show Ms. Maloney the ropes would give them a chance to bond. I could only imagine what Ms. Maloney must have felt about having to spend a year in what amounted to forced labor. It had to have galled a woman with a life of her own to have her own father demand that she give it up to claim the family inheritance. A more troubling idea was the growing conviction that there wasn’t much I could teach the woman. She was hurt and angry, but contained it well. She appeared self-assured, well-read, and highly intelligent. The more I saw of the woman, the less I thought that lessons about respect and duty might apply.
I sighed, and started a fresh pot of coffee while I contemplated what to make for dinner. I went to the chiller, and poked about until I found a pack of chops that looked likely then let my mind chew on the problem unattended while I focused on preparing food.
About 1720 Chief Bailey came up for coffee, just as I slipped a tray of biscuits into the oven. He didn’t seem terribly surprised to find me puttering in the galley. “You let ‘em drive, Cap? You brave or just crazy?” He cackled.
“Well, Ms. Arellone is good ship handler, and it’s a good opportunity for her to get a feel for this one. I left her training, Ms. Maloney.”
“Aye, Cap, aye. Nothing teaches ya what ya don’t know like trying to teach somebody else, now does it? No, it don’t.”
He drew a mug of fresh coffee, and leaned against the counter for a moment to enjoy it.
“How’s she doing back there, Chief? Any problems?”
He shook his head and pursed his lips. “Nah. She’s purrin’ right along, she is. The fusactor’s tight, and the generators are right happy to be pullin’ the ship, I think. I really do.”
“How’s the burleson drive look?”
He shrugged, and took time for another sip before answering. I got the impression he was thinking it over. “No way to really tell without jumping, huh? But kind painful if they hain’t quite right, ain’t it? Darn right it is.” He shrugged. “They look all right. Nothin’s burned. Seems like they’ll work.”
“Thanks, Chief. You think of anything you need back there?”
He looked down, his brow furrowed. “Nuthin’ I can think of at the moment, but I’ll keep my eyes open, I surely will.” He ambled back off the mess deck, and headed aft again.
While the potatoes boiled, I crossed the passageway to the cabin, and synced my tablet to the display there before returning to the mess deck. While the chops broiled, I used the synced tablet to troll for out-going cargo. In less than a day we would return to port, and I wanted to be outbound as soon as I could find a cargo to carry.
My first pass through the cargo listing took a long time. I kept having to check on the chops, and because I was looking for something different. After almost a year on the Agamemnon, I knew where to look for cans. What I needed for Iris was palleted or containered cargo. Even loose cargo would do, if we could get it nailed down to the deck. The parameters were much looser than I was used to, so the search was a little more nebulous.
Nothing jumped out at me before I had to retrieve the chops, and pull the biscuits out of the oven. With some peas, it would be a nice dinner. We had ice cream for dessert if anybody wanted some. It wasn’t the most auspicious meal, but it was a shakedown cruise after all.
At 1750 I went up to the bridge to find Ms. Maloney in the command chair with her hands on the handles, her eyes on the cross hairs, and a look of intense concentration on her face.
“How’s it going?”
“Hi, Skipper. I’ve given Ms. Maloney here the basic run down, and she’s trying her hand at helm.”
Ms. Maloney glanced up at me with small smile, and then went back to trying to balance the cross hairs.
“So I see.” I nodded at them both, although I’m pretty sure only Ms. Arellone saw. “I came to tell you that dinner is almost ready, if you’d like to come down and eat, we’ll put it on auto for a few ticks, and split up the night watches. Then we can settle in for a nice little sail.”
“You’ll have to show us how to engage the autopilot on this one, Skipper.”
“The course is all laid in. See that tab on the screen?” I pointed to the spot in question. “Open that up, and engage the autopilot.”
Ms. Maloney followed my instructions, and when she sat back in the seat, the ship was sailing herself.
“Normally whoever has the watch would slave their tablet to this console, and then they could see whatever was on the console from anywhere in the ship. As it is, we’ll rely on the proximity alarms, and go get some dinner. Somebody will be back here less than a stan, and we’ve to nothing around us for more than three stans in any direction.”
Ms. Maloney nodded, and I could see Ms. Arellone drinking it in.
“Let’s go eat then. Dinner’s ready.”
I turned, and headed down the ladder to the galley.I met Chief Bailey coming up the passageway from engineering. “Just in time, Chief. Dinner is served!”
“So, Ms. Maloney, how do you like sailing?” I asked by way of conversation starter as we settled to eat.
She shook her head. “I had no idea anything so boring could be so interesting.” She stopped as if replaying in her mind what she’s just said aloud. “That’s not exactly what I meant to say.” She colored a bit.
We all laughed.
Ms. Arellone turned to her. “It’s as good an explanation as I’ve ever heard. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s boring,” I agreed, “but there’s something oddly engaging, too. Ms. Arellone? How do you like it? Not exactly Agamemnon, is she.”
“No, she’s not, skipper, but compared to her, the Agamemnon sails like a boulder. The difference is astonishing.”
“Okay, well, my plan is to go back in tomorrow morning, and dock in the commercial section around 1100. I hope to have a cargo by then, and we’ll only be in port overnight, assuming I can get a cargo loaded in that amount of time. I’m planning on a run to Jett, but if some other port looks likely, we’ll go there instead.”
“Watches, Captain?” Ms. Arellone asked.
“I’m thinking we’ll do six and six tonight. Ms. Arellone, you’ve got the duty until midnight. Ms. Maloney and I will relieve you then. After breakfast we’ll head back in.”
“Sounds good, Skipper.” Ms. Arellone said.
“Ms. Maloney? You understand what we’re going to be doing?”
“I do, Captain, yes.”
“Good, now if nobody wants that last chop...?”
Dinner mess went well, and I shooed Ms. Arellone off to the bridge, and Ms. Maloney off to her bunk with a warning. ”Mid watches are tough, Ms. Maloney. We’ve been up all day, there’s not much time to sleep, and then we’re going to be sitting around, not doing too much,
“I understand, Captain.” Her face carried a serious expression, but it was less the cool, aloofness she’d exhibited before than the look of a woman about to engage in something important. I took it as a good sign.
With them gone, the chief kept me company while I cleaned up the kitchen. I threw him a towel, and made him dry the pots and pans while the dishwasher made short work of the rest. It only took a half stan, and by 1930 it was done.
“Thanks, Chief.”
He grinned .“Just like ole times, Cap, just like ole times. This should work out, I think. Yes, I do.”
“What’ll you do with your evening, Chief?”
He shook his head. “I’ve still got stuff needs cleanin’. Stuff needs fixin’. Don’t worry about me, Cap. I can entertain myself, I can.”
I grinned and headed for my bunk, setting my tablet to wake me at 2320, and stripping down to boxers before slipping between the luxurious sheets. My last thought before the tablet bipped me awake was that the mattresses and linens were a great investment. On waking I wished the temptation to stay in bed weren’t quite so attractive.
A quick splash in the head helped rinse off my brain cells, and I zipped up my shipsuit in time to make a fresh pot of coffee before relieving the watch. While I was there, I took a good look at how much of the Moscow Morning blend was left, and made a promise to myself that I’d visit my friend at Light City before we headed out to where ever we were going.
While the coffee dripped, I climbed the ladder to the bridge to see how Ms. Arellone was making out. She met me with a smile. “Skipper, this is such a sweet ship!”
I chuckled a little. “I’m glad you like her, Ms. Arellone. Is there something in particular that makes you say that?”
“We came up on a way-point about two stans ago, and you know how much trouble they can be.” She paused to look over at me.
“I do, indeed, Ms. Arellone.”
“Well, I previewed the course when I came up on watch, and so I knew it was there, sar. I figured I’d have to do some course corrections, but she just tracked right around to our new course with only the little beep it gives when it reaches a waypoint.” She looked at me and squinted. “You knew it would do that, didn’t you, sar?”
“I suspected, Ms. Arellone. These smaller ships have a better control profile because of the sail-to-mass ratios. The bigger ones will actually track too but the period of destabilization is longer, and they all have helmsmen who can correct it faster.” I grinned. “I’m glad to have it confirmed.”
“Sar?” She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you going to keep it?”
“The ship?”
She nodded. “Yes, sar.”
“I don’t know, Ms. Arellone. Keep doing the best I can, and try to find an investor before the note comes due.”
“You have any contingency plans, sar?”
“Well, with the ship refurbished, if we can show a nice balance sheet, and that it’s actually a worthwhile vessel, we could probably sell the ship for two or three times what we paid for it. That would let me settle the note, buy out the investors, and be ahead enough to buy the next ship.”
“Would you do that, sar?”
“Last resort, Ms. Arellone. We’re not down and out yet, and I like this odd duck of a ship. It’s different. I’ve heard of them before. Seems like there was something about them when they first came out, but the design never caught on.” I looked around the bridge. “For a family ship, this is awkward, so maybe that’s it.”
“Awkward, sar?”
“The Damiens and Unwins have a kind of living room bridge. It’s really large, with room for sofas and easy chairs. You can throw a party on the bridge and have room for a five piece band.” I waved my hand around. “This is like a digi-booth or something. Even with just the two of us in it, it seems crowded by comparison. I suspect a family might have a problem looking at this as a viable alternative.”
She frowned and looked around the bridge. “I see what you mean, sar. Interesting.”
I eyed the chronometer on her display, and gave her a little wave. “Coffee should be done. I’m gonna go get a cup, and see if Ms. Maloney is up...”
“I’m up, sar!” Her voice came from the ladder, and I heard her foot falls coming up. “I only brought one coffee, though.” She smiled apologetically.
“Oh, good. Ms. Arellone, would you walk Ms. Maloney through the change of watch routine? Get her logged on? I’m gonna go grab my coffee.”
“You bet, Skipper!”
When Ms. Maloney cleared the ladder, I dropped down to the mess deck, and filled a cup with fresh coffee, taking time to smell it before I sipped. I looked around the mess deck, dim with subdued night-cycle lighting, and sighed. I hated the thought of turning around and selling it, but if I needed to, it was a viable alternative.
I headed back up the ladde,r and thought of my father as I remembered him saying, “Duty calls.”
“All set, skipper. She’s got the conn.”
“Thank you, Ms. Arellone. Grab some sleep while you can. Breakfast at 0600, and I’m going to need you back up here for a stan or so in the morning.”
“Aye, aye, skipper. See ya in six.”
She clattered down the ladder, and was gone.
I crossed to the captain’s chair, and hoisted myself into it without spilling my coffee.
We sat there quietly for a few ticks, sipping coffee. Ms. Maloney tried to keep her eyes on the console, but kept looking out at the stars all around us. The orb of Diurnia wasn’t that far off our starboard side although with our current orientation, we were looking down on the north pole of the planet and, if we watched long enough, we’d see the orbital circle all the way around it without ever being occluded. It made a pretty picture.
“Is this all we do, Captain?” Her gently modulated alto sounded a bit amused. Sitting behind her and in the dim light, I couldn’t really get a feel for her expression.
“Ideally, Ms. Maloney. Except for the very beginning, the very end, and the jump in the middle. We like it boring.”
“Why’s that, Captain?”
“Because as long as it’s boring, then there’s a good chance we won’t die.”
She turned to look at me, and the chair swiveled with her. She studied my face for a while. “You’re serious.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, not always. So far, I’ve managed to avoid the dying part, but after you’ve had a few watches that aren’t boring, boredom feels good.”
She swiveled back to look at the screen, but her eyes were soon drawn back to the outside. “So? Now what? We spend the next six stans looking out the windows, sar?”
I chuckled. “They’re called ports, and yes, basically. This is—technically—a mid-watch so we have something special to do, though.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “I’ve been aboard long enough to know, I’m going to hate the answer to this question...” She grinned. “What’s that, Captain?”
“Clean.”
She laughed. It was a good sound. “I should have seen that one coming, Captain, but how can we clean in the dark?”
“You’ve got a point. All the other bridges I’ve been on have had more than enough light from the various displays to clean by.” I shrugged. “We’ll turn on a light or two. As small as this place is, it won’t take us long.” I put my cup in the holder beside my seat and stood. “Sit tight. I’ll go get some gear.”
Less than five ticks later, I dragged a broom, swab, a bucket of hot soapy water, and a bucket of rags and sponges up over the ladder. She frowned, and jumped up to help me untangle the swab handle from the ladder railing. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Nope. I wasn’t kidding, Ms. Maloney.” I shrugged. “It helps pass the time and it makes it nicer to work in when it’s clean.” I flicked on a couple of lights, and looked around.
The extra lighting made the armorglass slightly reflective and showed every greasy finger and hand print. Built-up cruft lined the corners and edges, and the seats all needed sprucing up.
“Good thing we’ve got all watch, Captain,” Ms. Maloney said, her head turning slowly in survey.
“Look on the bright side, Ms. Maloney. After this, the next mid-watch will be much easier, and on this one you have me to help.”
She rolled up the sleeves on her shipsuit. “Good point, Captain.” She grabbed a rag, and dunked it in the hot water. Looking around again she added, “A very good point.”
In the end, even as dirty as it was, we did all we could do with it in just under two stans. It was too small for it to take any longer than that. I was glad we’d traded out the consoles because the new ones didn’t need much attention. Ms. Maloney took the first load of cleaning gear down, and grabbed a coffee, and when she came back I took the rest. By the time I got back, she had secured the extra lighting, and settled at the console again, her nose stuck in her coffee mug.
We sipped in silence, waiting for our eyes to readjust to the new light levels.
“Why sar, sar?” she asked quietly.
“Why sar, Ms. Maloney?”
“Why that word—sar? Why not sir or ma’am?”
“The official line is that the service wanted one, gender neutral word. Every officer, male or female, can be addressed politely as sar.”
“Not terribly gender neutral, is it, sar?” Her dry tone evaporated the remaining wetness from the console in front of her.
“Not terribly, Ms. Maloney. Personally, I think somebody typoed in the original manual, and by the time they discovered it, they needed to make up a good story to explain it.”
I heard her chuckle.
“Why do you want me to study for a rating, Captain?”
“It’s a good way to learn your job, and it helps with the boredom.”
“What’s the point, really? I only need to keep this job for a stanyer, and then I go back to my life.” There was a hint of bitterness there.
“That’s true, but a stanyer is a long time. You’ll get about fourteen or fifteen trips in. I realize that you’ll earn more from your investment income than you will here, but where else would you see this?”