Quarter Share: A Trader's Tale from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper by Nathan Lowell Page B
Authors: Nathan Lowell
Ads: Link
take the next twenty-four?”
I nodded. I was in no particular hurry and I knew he needed to finish this deal and line up the next one. Of course, I was pretty sure he had another deal already in mind, but I didn’t pry.
I dug into my studies, but with so much noise in the berthing area, it was all but impossible to concentrate. I checked the cred balance on my tablet and saw that I’d been paid, and it looked like the right amount minus charges for dues, taxes, shipsuits and my running shoes. It didn’t seem like a lot for almost seven weeks’ work, but the share amount was half again more, so I couldn’t really complain. The share amount offset the deductions with a bit to spare, but I could see where doing a bit of private trading might pay off.
At 16:00 I went up to the mess deck to help Cookie with the evening meal. He really didn’t need me, but it gave me something to do away from the still noisy berthing area. I took a certain satisfaction draining out the two partial coffee urns, leaving the full one for dinner. It would be great to have an urn last for more than three stans at a time. I remembered my trip down to engineering with a grin as I thought about the filters below processing the black liquid that I drained away. Filter the water and scrub the air down…
After almost seven weeks of serving a full crew, port-duty seemed easy. I had a pleasant evening working with Cookie, and he was kind enough to help me clean up afterward.
While I swept out the galley after dinner, I took the opportunity to ask him about the mysterious project he and Pip had been working on.
“Ah, Ishmael, I really should thank you for breaking through to Pip. He’s a remarkable young man.”
“He’s something. I’m not exactly sure what.”
Cookie chuckled. “He has a most unusual way of looking at things.”
“So, what are these simulations you’re running?”
“We are experimenting with options for acquiring the supplies we need for the ship in some rather innovative ways.”
“Oh?” I asked with the rising inflection in what I hoped was an adequate imitation of my mother’s tone used to evoke additional information.
“No, Ishmael, not yet. When the time is ripe, all will be clear. In the meantime…” He slid an index finger alongside his nose. “We’ll just keep on as we are, eh?”
I have to confess that this intrigued me even more, but Cookie knew how to keep his own counsel and I was unlikely to get more out of him, at least directly. As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long for my first real clues. We filled the rest of our time with small talk about Darbat Orbital, its restaurants, dives, and even less savory attractions. Cookie was a compendium of information and I took as much care to note some of the more interesting items on his litany of places to stay away from as from his recommendations.
The evening clean up took almost no time compared to an evening underway. By 19:00 I was running laps and looking forward to the sauna. Sandy Belterson came up from behind me and started matching my strides. I smiled in greeting.
“Hey, Ish.” We had run together several times since our first conversation. I found her to be a good, companionable running partner. Often we said nothing more than “hi” to each other. That night, she wanted to talk.
“Hey, Sandy, you’re not on-station?”
“Nah, I’ve got first watch duty tomorrow. If I go out tonight it just wouldn’t be as much fun. I’ll get a night on the town before we leave.” She smiled wolfishly. “I try to pace myself. You?”
“Pip and I split the stay. He got first night and we’ll trade off. We can’t go on-station together because one of us has to be on duty.”
She nodded and we ran a lap in silence.
“What’s he doing?”
“Who? Pip?”
“I saw him leaving the ship with a duffel. He’s trading, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” That was all I would commit to.
“I hope he does well. He’s a nice guy.”
“Why
I nodded. I was in no particular hurry and I knew he needed to finish this deal and line up the next one. Of course, I was pretty sure he had another deal already in mind, but I didn’t pry.
I dug into my studies, but with so much noise in the berthing area, it was all but impossible to concentrate. I checked the cred balance on my tablet and saw that I’d been paid, and it looked like the right amount minus charges for dues, taxes, shipsuits and my running shoes. It didn’t seem like a lot for almost seven weeks’ work, but the share amount was half again more, so I couldn’t really complain. The share amount offset the deductions with a bit to spare, but I could see where doing a bit of private trading might pay off.
At 16:00 I went up to the mess deck to help Cookie with the evening meal. He really didn’t need me, but it gave me something to do away from the still noisy berthing area. I took a certain satisfaction draining out the two partial coffee urns, leaving the full one for dinner. It would be great to have an urn last for more than three stans at a time. I remembered my trip down to engineering with a grin as I thought about the filters below processing the black liquid that I drained away. Filter the water and scrub the air down…
After almost seven weeks of serving a full crew, port-duty seemed easy. I had a pleasant evening working with Cookie, and he was kind enough to help me clean up afterward.
While I swept out the galley after dinner, I took the opportunity to ask him about the mysterious project he and Pip had been working on.
“Ah, Ishmael, I really should thank you for breaking through to Pip. He’s a remarkable young man.”
“He’s something. I’m not exactly sure what.”
Cookie chuckled. “He has a most unusual way of looking at things.”
“So, what are these simulations you’re running?”
“We are experimenting with options for acquiring the supplies we need for the ship in some rather innovative ways.”
“Oh?” I asked with the rising inflection in what I hoped was an adequate imitation of my mother’s tone used to evoke additional information.
“No, Ishmael, not yet. When the time is ripe, all will be clear. In the meantime…” He slid an index finger alongside his nose. “We’ll just keep on as we are, eh?”
I have to confess that this intrigued me even more, but Cookie knew how to keep his own counsel and I was unlikely to get more out of him, at least directly. As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long for my first real clues. We filled the rest of our time with small talk about Darbat Orbital, its restaurants, dives, and even less savory attractions. Cookie was a compendium of information and I took as much care to note some of the more interesting items on his litany of places to stay away from as from his recommendations.
The evening clean up took almost no time compared to an evening underway. By 19:00 I was running laps and looking forward to the sauna. Sandy Belterson came up from behind me and started matching my strides. I smiled in greeting.
“Hey, Ish.” We had run together several times since our first conversation. I found her to be a good, companionable running partner. Often we said nothing more than “hi” to each other. That night, she wanted to talk.
“Hey, Sandy, you’re not on-station?”
“Nah, I’ve got first watch duty tomorrow. If I go out tonight it just wouldn’t be as much fun. I’ll get a night on the town before we leave.” She smiled wolfishly. “I try to pace myself. You?”
“Pip and I split the stay. He got first night and we’ll trade off. We can’t go on-station together because one of us has to be on duty.”
She nodded and we ran a lap in silence.
“What’s he doing?”
“Who? Pip?”
“I saw him leaving the ship with a duffel. He’s trading, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” That was all I would commit to.
“I hope he does well. He’s a nice guy.”
“Why
Similar Books
