Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) by Nathan Lowell
“What else do you know about him, Captain?”
“He’s a bodyguard. Used to work for DST guarding Christine Maloney.”
“Used to...?”
“She fired him, too.”
He nodded and, changing the view once more, held up a photo of a man stretched out on a steel table. He wore the familiar tyvek coverall. I could clearly see the slashes across his torso. “How about this one?”
“That looks like the second guy. The one who stepped out of the doorway and engaged Ms. Arellone.”
He nodded and changed the photo once more, this time to a close up of the man on the slab. It was the picture of a clean-shaven older man wearing a spacer’s cropped hair, his eyes were closed and his skin had a pale lifeless color. “How about now?”
He looked familiar. There was something about his nose and the shape of the brow line. At first I didn’t see it. The features of his face relaxed in a way that sleep could never accomplish. I squinted, trying to figure out what it was about him that seemed so familiar, and then it snapped into focus. “That’s Chief Bailey. He shaved.”
Agent Harkness nodded again. “Thank you, Captain.” He put his tablet away. “Did those two know each other?”
“Yes. They both worked for me aboard the Iris for a time. Chief Bailey was my engineer and Mr. Herring as able spacer.”
“Why did you fire Chief Bailey?”
“Incompetence. I needed to rely on him to perform his duties, and I couldn’t.”
“Anything else?”
I shook my head. “Not at the time. As we were cleaning out his compartment we found a tablet with a lot of newsie digitals on it. Images that he’d apparently sold to the gossip columnists.”
“Really? Do you still have the tablet?”
I shook my head again. “No, he came back and collected it.”
He cocked his head slightly. “You let him have it back?”
I shrugged. “It was his.”
“What about the digitals?”
“I erased them.”
His mouth twitched to a near smile. “Do you know who he sold the photos to?”
“No,” I said, “but if you check with Ms. Arellone and Ms. Maloney, they can probably show you the gossip columns where we found them.”
He nodded. “Did either of these men have regular contacts anywhere? Friends? Relatives?”
“Not that I know of.” Even as I said it, I remembered, and he must have seen the flash on my face because he nodded for me to continue.
“There was a group of people on Ten Volt that we found Herring hanging around with. We had a problem with newsies there. A photo appeared with a story that could only have come from somebody in the crew. We thought somebody was leaking information, but Mr. Herring convinced us that he was the victim of some unscrupulous newsies who plied him with booze and picked his brain. Bets and Ana are the only two names I remember.”
“Thank you, Captain. Do you remember anything about them? Anything that would identify them?”
I sighed and tried to picture them, but I couldn’t even remember who had been the taller. “I might recognize them again if I saw them, but no. I couldn’t really describe them with any accuracy or confidence. It was months ago.”
“Thank you, Captain.” He clicked his tablet. “The recording is now off.” He looked at me. “Is there anything you care to tell me, now that it’s not official?”
I shrugged. “No, that’s all I know.”
“Anything you suspect?”
“I suspect that Ames Jarvis is behind this somehow. I believe that Ms. Maloney was the target.”
“Why do you think that, Captain?”
I explained the situation surrounding Ms. Maloney and DST and Ames Jarvis as best I could in a few sentences. “I’m not privy to all the inner workings, Agent Harkness. He stands to make a lot of money, and gain control of a major company, if she fails to complete her stanyer.”
“Yet, Ms. Maloney was the only one not injured in the attack.” He looked at me levelly. “How do you explain that?”
“My engineer got in the way.” Somehow I managed to keep it level, keep it even, keep from screaming. The monitors over my head gave away my lie, and the medico came in with a concerned frown for Agent Harkness.
He took the hint and stood. “Thank you, Captain. TIC has an office here if you think of anything else.”
“You’re welcome to search his personal effects on the Iris, Agent Harkness.”
He gave a faint smile. “Thanks, Captain, but we already did that. Your Ms. Maloney was quite cooperative.” He tapped the side of the autodoc with an index finger. “We’ll get him, Captain.” He nodded to me, and left before the medico had to get pushy.
The monitors above my head began to sound quite raucous, and the medico leaned down to look at my eyes. “I’d prefer not to shoot any more into you, Captain...”
“If you’d kill the audibles and give me a few minutes?” I said, fighting to regain a regular breathing pattern, willing my heart rate to slow.
She nodded sympathetically and placed a package of tissues within easy reach on the side of the capsule. “Take your time,” she said and left, pulling the drapes closed behind her.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Greenfields Orbital:
2373-July-4
They let me return to the ship after another day of observation. The slice in my side had healed, the underlying gut nearly so. The pain in my chest seemed somehow connected to the raw ache in my throat, but the medico said that needed to heal more slowly.
I knew she was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
My civvies were ruined, so Ms. Arellone brought me a shipsuit from my quarters. I fingered the scarred stars at the collar, and tried to breathe, tried not to see the sapphire in my mind.
I steeled myself when I opened the cabin door, but her things were already gone. I turned to find Ms. Maloney standing behind me. “Where—?”
“Stacy and I took care of it, Captain,” she said.
“How?”
“I called in a favor and got her next of kin record from DST. We sorted her stuff out, and notified her family. Her father and a surviving sister. We’re waiting on the reply now.”
“I didn’t get to say good-bye,” I said. It felt stupid and whining. As if having her gone weren’t bad enough, I felt angry and cheated.
“We can have a memorial service when you’re ready, Captain,” she said gently.
I nodded dumbly. “Of course. Yes.” I felt my strength giving out then. The walk from medical following the tensely alert form of Ms. Arellone had sapped my depleted reserves. I all but stumbled into the cabin and sat heavily at my console.
Ms. Maloney stopped at the door frame, concern on her face. “Can I bring you some coffee, Captain?”
I nodded. “Yes, please, Ms. Maloney. That would be very thoughtful.”
While she fetched it, I powered up my console. I was the captain. My ship needed me. After clearing Mr. Herring’s access codes, I started working on catching up the logs.
Ms. Maloney brought my coffee, and set it on the console beside me.
“Thank you, Ms. Maloney,” I said, stopping to look up at her.
“I’m so sorry, Captain.” She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week.
“Thank you.” The words were the forms, and we both knew they weren’t going to help but it was all we had to offer each other at the moment. “Did TIC say anything to you? Where is he? Do they know?”
She shrugged. “He disappeared into a crowd. By the time station security sealed the ports, four ships had already left. Three of them came back when called, the fourth didn’t respond. Last I heard, TIC had pursuit craft chasing it down, but Agent Harkness didn’t sound optimistic.”
“Thank you,” I said, my words hollow in my own ears. “And thanks for taking care of...of things.”
She reached out to touch my shoulder but stopped, withdrawing her hand. “You’re welcome, Capt
“What are the newsies saying?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I had to ask.
She gave a weary shrug. “Most of the coverage is about you, and your near death experience. I come in for a fair amount of breathless attention as the heiress involved in the fatal brawl.” She stopped suddenly.
“What about Greta?”
“Killer Slips TIC Grasp. She’s mentioned as the hapless victim. Nothing lurid.”
I couldn’t decide if I was pleased by that or not. The parts of me that didn’t feel anger, felt numb.
Ms. Arellone came to stand in the door jamb. Mercifully she said nothing, just watched.
“What’ll we do now, Captain?” Ms. Maloney asked.
“Well.” I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “We need an engineer before we can get underway. We’ll need to figure out where...”
“I’ve moved back in with Stacy, Captain.”
I looked up at her.
She shrugged. “Neither of us wanted to be alone.”
I turned to Ms. Arellone. “How are you, by the way?” I offered a thin smile of apology. “I’ve been so self-absorbed, I haven’t even asked.”
She gave me one of her lopsided grins. “I was in the autodoc over night, but the stab was in and out, and missed everything except the skin and a rib. Shock and blood loss mostly. I’ve been up and about for a week now.”
Ms. Maloney asked, “What about you, Captain? The medicos didn’t tell us much.”
I shrugged, and was gratified that it didn’t hurt much. “He cut right through from here to here.” I turned and pointed along a line under my right rib cage. Missed the liver but got part of my intestines. I guess that was what kept me out so long.”
“Muscle damage probably,” Ms. Arellone offered in supportive agreement.
“Medics said they were worried about infection, too,” Ms. Maloney added.
“Well, I’m rested now. Sort of. I think we still have some credits left and full tanks.” I was proud of myself for not choking. “We need to get Iris moving again.” I looked from one to the other. “We need an engineer, or we can’t move the ship.”
The pity in their eyes almost made me scream but I bit down on it. After a few breaths I was able to add, “So that’s my first priority. After that, we can see about cargo and passengers.”
“Another deckie?” Ms. Arellone asked.
I sighed and thought about it. “Not just now. We’ll have to make do with what we have.” I shook my head, feeling fuzzy again. “I’ll need to think about it. More crew means fewer passengers.”
They shared a look. I didn’t know what it meant, and I felt too numb to worry about it.
Ms. Maloney headed for the door. “Well, I’m going to get dinner going.” She stopped at the door frame, and started to pull the door closed. “Call if you need anything, Captain. I’ll be in the galley.”
“Thank you, Ms. Maloney.”
They left me then, the door latch clicking softly into place. I fumbled through the engineering job post, and managed to get something that looked halfway decent onto StationNet before the weight of my arms became too much. With my last strength, I managed to make it to my bunk. I fell onto it, pulling my legs up and curling around the hurt. All I smelled was clean linens, even her scent was gone.
A long time later, I slept.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Greenfields Orbital:
2373-July-8
Five engineers applied for the post in the first twenty-four hours. I was surprised to find five unemployed engineering chiefs on Greenfields. I was even more surprised when six more applied the following day. I carved the pool down to the three who looked like they had the right level of expertise, and set up interviews for them.
I had Ms. Arellone meet each of them at the lock, and escort them back to engineering. I talked to them. I watched them move about the engineering space. I asked clever questions like, “How many engineers in your family?” and “Do you have any hobbies?”
None of them noticed the smell from the scrubber filters that were slowly growing sour. At the end of the day, I didn’t hire any of them and went back to my pool of candidates.
“Captain?” Ms. Maloney stood at the cabin door as I pondered my next selections.
“Yes, Ms. Maloney?”
“Could we maybe change out one or two of the filters? Just until the next candidates come aboard, Captain?” She had a wry smile. “It’s getting a bit whiffy in here.”
I gave a short laugh, the first hint of a thaw in the ice around my brain. “Yes, Ms. Maloney.” I shrugged. “You’d have thought one of those engineers would have spotted it, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe they just think we stink, Captain.” She smiled as she said it.
“It’s possible, I suppose.” I considered it. I hadn’t actually asked them if they noticed anything wrong. What I had mistaken for ignorance could have been simple politeness. I wondered if I wanted a polite engineer.
“Dinner will be ready at 1800, Captain,” she said, as she closed the door and left me to my screen.
We had just settled down to eat when the klaxon buzzed into our silence.
“I’ll get it,” Ms. Arellone said, and headed for the ladder. We heard the lock open, and low voices echoed through up from the open atrium. After a short conversation, we heard the lock close and two sets of boots coming up the ladder. “Captain?” she said as she stepped onto the deck. “Chief Stevens to see you.”
I stood at the sound of her voice, and turned to greet the newcomer. Even bald as an egg, the woman looked about seventy. The wrinkles across her face framed a pair of sparkling brown eyes that darted from one thing to another as she entered the galley. I thought wrinkles looked like laugh lines, and when Ms. Arellone introduced me, the woman’s warm smile confirmed my guess as her face took on a nearly beatific aura.
When I saw her, I recognized her from somewhere but I couldn’t place where. She stopped just inside the galley’s door, standing not quite at attention, but somehow ready. I recognized the stance. When I did, I remembered where I had last seen her.
“Chief Stevens,” I said and placed my hands together in front of my chest in a stylized interlocking pattern that I had earned the right to use while at the Academy. I bowed deeply, not as Captain to Chief, but as Student to Master.
She folded her own hands into the corresponding pattern, and bowed in return—equal to equal. “Captain Wang.” She placed an emphasis on the title.
“It was Port Newmar, wasn’t it, Chief?” I smiled, and offered a hand.
She took my hand in both of hers and shook it firmly. “Indeed, Captain, and look how far you’ve come!” She smiled around the galley.
“Chief Margaret Stevens, may I introduce you to Spec One Chef Christine Maloney? Ms. Maloney, Chief Stevens.”
The two women shook, and I could see the recognition in the chief’s eyes. “You’re Geoff’s daughter, aren’t you, Ms. Maloney?”
Ms. Maloney nodded. “Yes. Did you know my father?”
The chief shook her head. “Only by name and reputation, Ms. Maloney. I was sorry to hear of your loss. He represented the working spacer well in the Committee, and his voice will be missed.”
“Thank you, sar.”
“Lovely to meet you, Ms. Maloney.”
“Chief? This is Spec One Shiphandler Stacy Arellone. Ms. Arellone, Chief Stevens.”
“Chief,” Ms. Arellone said offering a hand.
The chief took Ms. Arellone’s hand in both of hers and smiled warmly. “Ms. Arellone.”
“Chief.”
As they stepped apart, I asked, “So, Chief? What brings you to our humble home?”
She turned back to me, and her eyebrows wagged in a way that made her face dance with humor. “Business, Captain, and not a moment too soon if my nose is any judge.” She wrinkled her nose once to emphasize her point.
“Sorry about that. We’re—” My voice caught in my throat for a
“Yes, I know. I saw your posting.” She nodded once. “I thought I should come see how Cadet Ishmael Wang turned out and if, perhaps, I wanted to sail again.”
“You, Chief?” I must have looked somewhat incredulous. “You’d be interested in sailing with us?” My head reeled from the notion.
She tossed back her head and laughed. “Why not, Captain? Do you think I’m too old?” Her eyes sparkled and danced at my discomfort.
“Certainly not, Chief! It’s just...well, I thought you’d have your choice of billets. You could work where ever you want!”
She nodded quite eagerly in agreement. “Indeed I could and I frequently do.” She looked around at Ms. Arellone and Ms. Maloney. “I’ve done a bit of work around. When you get to be my age, people are sometimes fooled into thinking you know something.”
I laughed. “Yes, well, Chief, I don’t know about fooled, but I don’t understand. How are you even here?”
“My home, Captain. I’ve been visiting the great-greats. Delightful children, but so tiring. I’ve had my eye open for a likely looking berth for awhile.” She shrugged. “When I saw your posting, I thought I’d like to come by, and see for myself before I applied.”
“Would you like the berth, Chief?”
Her lips curled up on the right side, and she gave a coy shrug. “I don’t know yet, Captain. I’m not done looking.” She wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps I could see your environmental section?”
I led her back to engineering while the crew resumed their interrupted lunch. I saw the chief looking the ship over as we went. Quite unabashed in her inspection, she made no bones about looking at the state of the decks, the conditions of the seals as we went through the airtight door at the end of the passageway, and even the wear on the treads of the ladder going down to engineering. She looked like a bird hopping from bright object to bright object, subjecting each to brief intense scrutiny before moving on.
When we got to the main console she ran a hand across the back of the chair, and looked around, jocularity gone from her face, but still smiling pleasantly, her gaze darting from corner to overhead, fusactor to grav generators as she surveyed the domain. Her eyes locked on the scrubbers, and she crossed to the unit, placing a hand on the cover as if to gauge its temperature.