Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) by Nathan Lowell
“Safe voyage, Ms. Hawkshaw.”
She smiled once more and beckoned Mr. Herring to follow her off the ship. He shot me an alarmed look, but followed her. She stopped at the foot of the ramp and turned to him, pointing to the decking where he deposited her grav trunk. She helped herself to one last kiss, then with a happy wave and smile back to us, she took the handle of the grav trunk and sailed down the dock.
Mr. Herring stood and watched her go for a few heartbeats, and then seemed to realize we were watching him. He gave an embarrassed grin and hurried back aboard. “Sorry about that, Captain,” he mumbled.
“Sorry about what, Mr. Herring?”
He nodded at the departing woman. “Her. She’s rather...uninhibited at times, sar.” He coughed and looked at his boots.
Ms. Maloney chuckled, and started back up the ladder. I keyed the lock closed and followed.
I found the crew gathered in the galley and marveled again at how quiet the ship sounded when all the passengers were gone. It hadn’t seemed so empty before we started carrying guests, each new addition to the crew adding a bit of noise, a spark of life, to the ship. Those sparks seemed to ignite when passengers came aboard and I mused about that as I drew my coffee.
When I turned back to look at them, I saw everybody looking at me expectantly. “We’re going to be here a few days, at least,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ll still have the ship after the twenty-sixth. I need to meet with Larks, Simpson, and Greene about the outstanding note. We haven’t earned enough to satisfy it, so I’m going to have to default, and I have no idea what that’ll do to our ability to get underway.” I looked around at the faces looking up at me. Only Mr. Herring’s expression carried any surprise, but Chief Bailey’s scowl had turned calculating. “Whatever happens, thanks. This trip from Greenfields was the best yet, and I hope we’ll still be sailing in a week.” I shrugged. “That’s about it for now. Liberty for anybody who wants to go ashore.”
I looked at Mr. Herring.
“I’m going to get some sleep!” he said.
That broke the spell They stopped staring at me and started looking at each other.
I headed for the cabin and stopped at the chief’s chair. “Would you join me in the cabin, Chief?”
He roused himself with a start. “Oh, aye, Cap. That I will.”
He followed me, and I could feel the others go silent as we left the galley.
I led him into the cabin, and closed the door behind us.
“Have a seat, Chief.” I nodded at the extra chair, and I sat myself at my desk.
“Thankee, Cap. What can I do for you?”
“Clean out your gear, Chief.”
He looked at me. “You sure you wanna do that, Cap?” he asked, arching his eyebrow, not exactly as a threat but not really a query either.
I sighed. “I’m not, no, Chief, but I can’t have you as my chief engineer.”
“Why not, Cap? Haven’t I done what you asked?”
“Chief? The fact you can ask that tells me I’m making the right decision. You didn’t do what I asked, even after asking several times. It’s a small ship, and the engineer is the only other officer. I know you have some ancillary duties involving Ms. Maloney, but that doesn’t excuse your not filling the tanks, not ordering spares, failing to keep the inventories up to date, or ignoring my orders to fix the things on our punch list. The only initiative you’ve demonstrated since coming aboard is stretching your legs,and keeping your coffee cup filled, as far as I’ve seen.”
His scowl deepened and his mouth twisted into an angry grimace. “You think you can fire me that easy, Cap?” He voice was a low growl and much of his patois melted away. “You think I work for you?”
“You’re on my ship’s roster as chief engineer. As such you do work for me. Because of that, I can withdraw that employment contract at will, and for no other cause than I want to, Chief.” I looked at him. “I’m probably not being fair to you, and I suspect I’ve failed in this management challenge. The bottom line on this exercise is that, right or wrong, fair or not, I have to do what I think is best for the safety of the ship and the crew. That means keeping the ship in port until I can find a chief engineer I can work with.” I shrugged. “You’re not it.”
“I think Ms. Maloney may have something to say about that, Cap.” His scowl added a smirk.
“Good idea.” I went to the door and crossed to the galley. “Ms. Maloney? Would you join us, please?”
She sighed but nodded. “Of course, Captain.”
She followed me back to the cabin, and I closed the door again.
“Ms. Maloney, I’ve just dismissed Chief Bailey. He thinks you’ll have something to say about it. Given your relationship with him, I think he may be correct.” I looked at her. “Would you like some privacy to discuss your security options?”
She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.” She turned to the chief. “Good bye, Chief.”
The chief looked up at her sharply. “What? You can’t fire me! I don’t work for you!”
She shrugged. “I’m not firing you, Chief. As far as I know you still work for the company. I don’t, and Ames Jarvis has made it clear that I’m on my own by blocking my funding, cutting me off from my assets, and generally making my life as difficult as he can under the guise of fulfilling the terms of my father’s will.”
“Then what...?” He looked very confused.
“As you pointed out, you don’t work for me, Chief, and now you don’t work for Captain Wang either. Since I am also cut off from the assets and support of DST, that means you have no standing with me.” She shrugged. “Good bye, Chief. Good luck with your future assignments.”
He bounced to his feet. “After all we’ve been through? You’re going to just kick me to the dock?” His patois disappeared in his distress.
Her expression softened a bit. “Chief? Thank you for looking out for me over the stanyers. A lot of things have changed in the last few weeks. One of them is me. Under the circumstances, I can no longer accept that protection.”
“This is insane! What will you do for security?” His scowl deepened even more and he practically snarled. “You can’t be thinking of using that little girl!” His arm shot out pointing in the direction of the galley.
Her face went hard, and her eyes fairly glittered. “I’m obviously not making myself understood here, Chief. Ames Jarvis has seen to it that I cannot afford personal security on my own. I’m going to have to stay aboard or go without until the terms of the will are satisfied.”
“But that’s why he’s paying me to stay with you, Christine. You need me.”
“No, Chief. I don’t.” Her words were flat and final. She turned to me. “Anything else, Captain?”
“No, Ms. Maloney. Thank you.”
She nodded and left the cabin closing the door behind her.
“Now, Chief? We’re going to go pack up your compartment, then collect your toolbox, and you’re going to leave my ship.”
“You’re making a huge mistake, Captain.”
“Without a doubt, Chief, but it’s mine to make, and added to the list of mistakes I’ve already made? I’m guessing it’s not going to add a lot to the total.”
His scowl relaxed, and his face took a sly cast. “We’ll see about that, Captain.”
He offered no further objections or argument, clearing his compartment in a flurry of thrown garments and personal effects. I was actually a bit surprised by how little he had unpacked. With his grav trunk packed I escorted him to the lock where he dropped it to the deck, and we went back to engineering for his tool chest. He didn’t have to pack anything there, just grabbed the handle and dragged it back through stores and out to the lock.
I keyed the lock open for him and turned. “Standard terms of termination. One month separation for each year of service, but since you’ve been aboard less than a full quarter, I’ll give you two weeks. I’d caution you against using me as a reference.”
He glared
I keyed the lock closed, then pulled up my tablet and removed his access to ShipNet. With that chore done, I dropped the prepared message into StationNet to advertise the opening for a chief engineer. Copies went to the Union Hall, and to a few of the places I knew where officers watched for job news.
With a sigh that was part resignation and part relief, I headed up the ladder to the first deck and saw Ms. Maloney standing in the doorway at the end of the passageway. She beckoned me, and I went to see what she needed.
“I came to change the linens, Captain.” She pointed to a small pile of towels and bedding on the deck. “When I went to strip the bunk...” she handed me a tablet, “this was under the corner by the head of the bed.”
Something in her expression seemed at odds with the matter-of-fact rendition.
“When I picked it up, I must have bumped the on switch,” she continued and reached forward to turn it on.
The display opened to a collection of digitals. I felt funny poking about in the chief’s personal data until I realized the pictures looked familiar.
“Looks like we found our snitch, Captain.”
Every single digital that we had seen in the newsies and dozens, if not hundreds, more flashed by as I flipped the scroll. I stopped on a familiar image, the one showing us coming out of Jimmy Chin’s that had been captioned Playboy Flyboy.
“That’s what looked wrong,” I muttered.
“What, Captain?”
“When you showed me this photo? It stuck with me because there’s something not right here.” I showed her the picture. In the original it became even more clear because the left side of the frame showed a shoulder that had to have been Ms. Arellone’s. “Whoever took this picture was walking right beside Ms. Arellone.” I pointed out the shoulder. “That angle bothered me because it almost had to be coming from directly in front of us and the only ones there were the chief and Ms. Arellone. I never put it together before.”
“How far back do they go, Captain?” Her voice chilled the compartment.
I continued to scroll, and after a couple of ticks I still hadn’t reached the last one. “I don’t know, Ms. Maloney. At least three stanyers.”
“The weasel!” she spat. “All the time he claimed to be protecting me from the paparazzi, he was taking my pictures and selling them?”
“Looks like we won’t be having that problem anymore.”
The lock klaxon buzzed and I sighed. “Now what?” I nodded to Ms. Maloney. “Thanks. We’ll figure out what to do about security.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m beginning to think they’re more trouble than they’re worth.” She gave me a rueful grin.
I headed down to the lock, and peeked out the port. Chief Bailey stood outside, fury on his face. Just as he reached for the klaxon again, I keyed the lock open.
He stormed aboard, arrowing straight for the ladder. “I forgot my tablet,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“Do tell.”
While he pounded up over the ladder, I keyed the delete-all function and watched while the digitals disappeared. I closed the application and shut it off. It probably wouldn’t mean much. Anybody with half a brain would have a back up somewhere. The tablets were too prone to failure.
I heard the stamping footsteps coming back, and looked up as he dashed down the ladder.
“Where is it?”
I held it out. “This?”
He snatched it out of my hand, and switched it on. “You erased it?” Spittle flew out of his mouth in his anger.
“Erased what?” I asked.
“All my files!” He shook the tablet in my face. “This is private property! You had no right.”
“No right to what, Mr. Bailey? To erase illegal surveillance photos? Destroying evidence? You’re probably right. Would you like me to call Orbital Security?”
He growled in his frustration, and turned to storm off the ship.
I keyed the lock closed behind him, and turned to see Ms. Maloney standing at the top of the ladder. She looked at me curiously as I climbed up to meet her. “You gave it back to him?”
“Yes, Ms. Maloney, but he claims I erased all his photos.”
She started to laugh, and hid the grin behind a hand.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Diurnia Orbital:
2373-March-24
Three of us had shared a quiet lunch while Mr. Herring slept. If the ship had seemed quiet before, it fairly echoed with the sounds of the past while we ate.
“What will you do about security, Chris?” Ms. Arellone finally asked over dessert.
Ms. Maloney shrugged. “After this morning, I’m seriously beginning to wonder at the wisdom of it myself.”
“You have to admit,” I said. “It really gave him job security. Every so often he’d leak a photo of you to the newsies with some suitably lurid detail and—poof—evidence that you need protection against invasion of privacy.”
Ms. Maloney shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.” She sighed and looked at me. “So what do we do now, Captain?”
“We can’t do anything without a chief engineer,” I said with a half shrug. “Until I hear from Larks, Simpson, and Greene, I can’t in good conscience hire a new one.”
“Why not?” Ms. Maloney asked.
Ms. Arellone leaned over to her. “Because there might not be a ship after the note expires.”
“Oh, there’ll be a ship,” I said with a grin. “We may not own it though.”
“What’s securing the note?” Ms. Maloney asked.
“One of the shares of preferred that we used to finance the start up. When one of the investors backed out at the last minute, Larks, Simpson, and Greene floated a note based on the value of that share.”
“Lemme guess,” she said. “It was just about enough for you to get the ship, and have a little left over? And he was unable to find a new buyer quickly?”
“Right the first time.”
“You’ll have the ship, Captain. Don’t worry about it.”
“You sound pretty certain, Ms. Maitland.”
She nodded. “I am.” She grinned at me. “Just remember this phrase: Don’t begrudge us our profit!”
I looked at her curiously. “Really?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes.” She looked back and forth between a skeptical looking Ms. Arellone, and a more skeptical looking me. “So? We need an engineer? Where do we get an engineer?”
“I’ve posted it on StationNet.”
Ms. Maloney and Ms. Arellone were trading some kind of look between them that I couldn’t interpret, but they stopped when they noticed I noticed.
“Something?” I asked.
“No, sar.” Ms. Arellone answered much too quickly.
Unfortunately, I was distracted by my tablet. The reply from William Simpson arrived with an appointment for the following morning. “Well, we’ll know by tomorrow night,” I announced.
“What’s that, Captain?”
“Whether or not you’re right about the ship, Ms. Maloney.”
She nodded her understanding. “Well, I’ll put in a replenishment order this afternoon. We should have stores up to snuff by tomorrow, Captain. Shall we go out to dinner tonight?”
Ms. Arellone perked up at that. “Let’s! We missed going out at Greenfields.”
“Ok. Where? Not the pub on oh-two, please,” I told them.
“Marcel’s?” Ms. Maloney suggested.
Ms. Arellone made a surprised “oh” sound and looked first at Ms. Maloney and then at me. “Could we, Captain? Can we even get in there?”
“I don’t know why not, Ms. Arellone.”
“Would you like me to make the reservation, Captain? I can message Julian, and have it set up for sometime unfashionably early.” Ms. Maloney grinned across the table.
“1900 work for you?” I suggested.
She shrugged and turned to Ms. Arellone. “Stacy?”
“I’ll make the reservation for party of four,” Ms. Maloney said with a smile. “If he doesn’t want to come, they won’t mind.”
“So, what will you do this afternoon, Captain?” Ms. Arellone asked as Ms. Maloney got busy with her tablet.
“Paperwork, Ms. Arellone. Always paperwork.” I grinned.
“Reservation set, Captain,” Ms. Maloney announced.
I blinked at her. “That was fast.”
She shrugged. “I know Julian’s private address.”
We adjourned the luncheon after a quick clean up, and I left the two of them with their heads together in the galley. I confess to a certain level of trepidation but I also felt sure I would get nowhere by asking.
In my cabin, I fired up the console, and began the glamorous work of captain. First order of business was topping off the tanks. If Ms. Maloney was correct, then we would have a ship, and it wanted to be ready to go. In less than a quarter-stan I had the machinery in motion, and moved on to another task.
For weeks we had chased cargo with no plan. Whatever looked good, we took. It worked out, but the truth was we had cargo space going begging and I had no idea what the cargo patterns looked like in the remote outposts in the quadrant. The archives on the cargo availabilities were a matter of public record so I grabbed about a stanyer’s worth, and started analyzing cube-cargo shipments and priority horizons.
It took some fumbling about for me to find what I needed to know, in large part because I was trying to remember a lot of my cargo analysis courses from the academy, and I made a lot of mistakes. What I discovered was that while a lot of priorities went to Greenfields, the most valuable ones went to Martha’s Haven. Unfortunately, those valuable cargoes constituted a tiny fraction of the traffic, and occurred only few times in the stanyer’s worth of data. Eventually I found that Kazyanenko had the most reliable revenue stream leaving Diurnia as cubed container cargo, and a simulation running Kazyanenko against Greenfields had Kazyanenko out performing Greenfields by about thirty percent.