Heris Serrano by Elizabeth Moon

I prefer the Plekhsovs—we use 'em a lot as replacements and I think they're tougher—but I'd give you a matched set if I could. The performance specs are identical . . . here." Heris looked at the printout and passed it to her moles.
     
    "That's good enough," she said. "What about environmental chambers? And the runs?"
     
    "You'll have to have new chambers—every single culture either overgrew or was contaminated by one that did. Again, we have Shnairsin and Lee, but I recommend Tikman. They've come out with a lining that really is better—we've had about five years' experience with it."
     
    "Go with the Tikman," Heris said. The Regs had seven years experience with the new polymer lining; she hadn't realized it was available on the civilian market. "The runs?"
     
    He frowned. "That depends on whether you want to put up with a little pitting. We can cut out the worst, and patch—we have good pipefitters, and I guarantee you won't have turbulence problems at the joints. Or we can pull them all and restring the runs. Pitting . . . it's not dangerous, once we cut out the really bad patches, but you'd want to replace it within a year or two. It'd get you where you're going, safe enough. Restringing all the runs will really squeeze the time I gave you."
     
    "So would finding all the bad places, and being sure of them," Heris said. He nodded. "I want a safe ship, Mr. Brynear; I'll take my owner's heat if you run a little over. But . . ."
     
    "It better be worth it—I understand that. I tell you, Captain, I'm really shocked at Diklos. They used to be good. I'd have trusted 'em with my own ship, if I couldn't get here."
     
    "Mistakes happen," Heris said, somewhat grimly. "But not on my ship, not again. Now, if you have the hard copy estimates, I'll go see Lady Cecelia."
     
     
     

Chapter Five
    Even in the garish purple uniform, Heris felt more comfortable on the dockside, with honest ribbed deck-plates and not plush carpet beneath her feet. Everyone here worked on ships, and in that way everyone here was one of her kind, someone she understood. After a walk long enough to make her legs ache, she came out of Velarsin & Co., Ltd.'s docks and into the commercial sectors. She was glad she'd thought to have her luggage taken ahead, with her employer's. Here, sleek transport tubes marked one side of the walkway; fronting the other were shops, hotels, and eating places. None of the great logos bannered here, but often locals were as good. Heris stopped to consult a map display, and decided to take a tram the rest of the way to Lady Cecelia's hotel. As usual, the good hotels were as far as possible from the rumble and clatter of hard work.
     
    * * *
     
    She walked through a narrow door, with only the engraved plate with Selenor in slightly archaic script to indicate the identity, into a lobby that reached the stars. After one flinching look, she realized it only seemed to. The geometry of this Station allowed those with inside exposure to use the entire interior well as a private display. Those tiny lights were on the far side . . . except for the interior transports, sliding along maglines.
     
    Meanwhile, the concierge was already smiling at her. "You must be Captain Serrano. . . . Lady Cecelia gave us your description."
     
    "Yes—"
     
    "And your room is ready, Captain. In the mauve tower, 2314, adjoining hers. Lady Cecelia said she didn't know when you might be in, but she supposed you'd like something to eat at once."
     
    "How very thoughtful." She was hungry, now that she thought of it, but she needed to see her employer first.
     
    "She said to tell you she would be resting, but—oh, wait. The light's changed. She's up again. I'll let her know you're on your way, shall I?"
     
    "Yes, thank you."
     
    The mauve tower droptubes were scented with a warm flowery fragrance that made Heris think of summer on one of the planets with native grasslands. She emerged into a small lobby splashed with soft