“Can’t find enough to leverage here to fill a container?” I asked.
“There’s plenty of cargo, but there’s no market in Dunsany Roads. St. Cloud and Dunsany are just too similar. And Dunsany is a hub with three other systems within jump range besides St. Cloud.”
“Well, where does St. Cloud sell its fish and rice?”
“Oh, there’s a good market for it on Margary, but we’re going the wrong way for that.” He sighed and shook his head.
“Same with the lamb and wool?”
“Yeah. Basically. Dunsany has the manufacturing base to process the grains and wool, but the margins are pretty small on that kind of stuff. Coming back out this way from Dunsany has the same problem.”
“Where are we going after Dunsany?”
“We’ve filed for Betrus, but we’re overdue for a last tick redirection. We typically get pulled off our published course about every five systems.”
“How many have we hit since the last time?” I finished with the sweeping and secured my cleaning gear in the locker while Pip thought about it.
“Eight. Averages are funny, and we could go a long time without being pulled off to a new course. But it’s something to consider.”
“So the alternate systems—what do you call them?”
“Level one alternatives,” Pip answered.
“Yeah. So, the level one alternatives out of St. Cloud are what?”
“Bink and Ablemarle. Bink is a heavy gravity world specializing in metals and machining. Ablemarle specializes in systems and software. A lot of the astronics that go into the ships coming out of the Manchester yards at Margary come from Ablemarle.”
After one last swipe of the work surfaces, I put away the last of the cleaning gear and headed out to make coffee. Now that I probably was not going to be doing it any more, I did not mind so much. Pip followed me out to the mess deck.
“Did you see anything you fancied for us to invest in when you were up at the flea?” he asked.
“Nope. But I didn’t get a good look around because I was helping Rhon with the booth all day.”
“Same here.”
“Seemed like there were a lot of knitted goods and some very nice woven things. The local weavers do excellent work. I bet I saw eight or ten of them just on my way to the head and back. I wonder how many it would take to fill the empty container,” I mused as I measured ground coffee into the waiting basket.
“A lot, but you know what we’ve completely missed?”
“What? Something besides lunch?”
“No, I ate while you were flirting with Diane. We’ve both got more mass allotments.”
“Well, not yet,” I objected. “Not until we get the promotions and such settled.”
“That’ll happen before we leave here. I’d bet the captain has a new attendant by morning.”
I pulled out my tablet and looked up the numbers. Half share rated crewmembers received an additional ten kilos so my mass allotment was going up to thirty. Pip was going up to fifty. “Wow, between the two of us, our mass allotments will be doubled!”
Pip nodded. “Makes ya wanna go shopping, doesn’t it?”
Chapter 3
ST. CLOUD ORBITAL
2352-FEBRUARY-19
According to our duty roster, Pip had the afternoon watch, leaving me free to go ashore. Personally, I was torn between going out to try to find some trade goods and staying around to see what developed. I left Pip and Cookie with their heads together over stores trading and headed down to deck berthing to pack what little I had to move. I did not think that would take much time and then I would be free to go up to the flea market to see how the co-op was doing.
Going in to strip my bunk and clean out my locker felt strange. I knew I was just moving across the passageway but it still seemed as if I was leaving home. It took only a couple of ticks to clear off my linens, pack my duffel bag, and reset the palm-lock on the locker. I checked around one last time to make sure I had not left anything tucked down beside the mattress or under the pillow and that was it. Done. One good thing about living out of a locker, when you’ve cleaned it out, you’re done.
The thought inevitably dredged up memories of my mother’s death. I remembered packing up all the stuff in our flat and shipping it off to storage on Siren. I became very sentimental over leaving that flat and wondered if I would always have that sense of loss whenever I moved.
It’s just a locker, I tried to tell myself, but it was really more than that. There was Big Bad Bev who slept in the bunk under mine, and Tabitha Rondita’s gentle snoring on the other side of the partition. I would miss having Pip across the way. I knew I was not really leaving them. We were still all on the same ship. Still, it pulled at me a weird kind of way.
I got a hold of myself and headed over to engineering berthing. It was such a long way. I stepped out of deck berthing, walked the eight steps to engineering, and into the mirror image of the room I had just left. Midday is always quiet in berthing and made even more so because we were docked. It felt funny to walk into the empty berthing area, like I was sneaking in. With no one to talk to, it made me feel even more like an intruder. The place even smelled slightly different, a tang of something mechanical that I could not put my finger on.
I walked slowly around, looking for an empty berth. I had several to pick from. Of the five quads, none were completely filled. The bunk with the same relative position as my old one was free so I took that. It was as good as any and it seemed less likely that I would crawl into the wrong bunk by mistake out of habit. I tossed my bundle of linens onto the bunk, set the palm-lock on the corresponding locker, and stashed my gear in it. I hung my civvies on the hangers and put my boy toy belt on a hook in the back. Making up the bunk did not take long. Within half a stan, my moving day was completed. It felt odd being halfway between, like being in limbo.
As I was standing there, trying to decide what to do next, Brill came charging into the berthing area. “Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed. “I thought I might find you here.” She wore civvies—a tailored caramel colored jacket over an emerald blouse along with beige straight-legged slacks. “Are you all moved in?”
“Yeah. Just trying to decide what to do. There’s still a couple of stans left before the flea market closes, but I don’t want to go alone. Also, I’m not sure I should leave Pip in case the new greenie comes in.”
Brill smiled at me. “At a minimum, the greenie won’t be here before evening watch. I suspect the captain will need to go down to the hiring hall on planet in the morning, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there. You’re off now, right?”
“Unless you’ve come to give me some other news, I’m still a mess deck attendant, and Pip has the duty.”
“Excellent! Let’s go shopping. I want some of that Ishmael insight with private cargo choices!”
“And I owe ya a dinner,” I reminded her. “I should probably settle that debt before you become my boss.”
“Deal. After the luck you’ve been having with trades, you can afford it. Meet me at the lock in five ticks or I’ll leave without ya.” She waved airily and sashayed out.
I began to feel better as I changed into my one set of civvies.
My old bunkie, Beverly Arith, introduced me to flea market shopping. Her black leathers, military crew cut, and tattoos usually cut a wide swath through the throngs of people clogging the aisles. Whenever I walked in public with Big Bad Bev, the reactions of people who saw her entertained me to no end.