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into this whole trying to figure out what I want to be if I grow up endeavor. She pointed out that I probably wouldn’t be satisfied slopping sludge all my life, so I would think that looking into the academy would be a good thing.”
    “Perhaps, but maybe what she had in mind was you finding a different job on the Lois that would keep you happy for the next ninety to a hundred years that doesn’t involves sludge. Giving out advice is pretty easy until you get slapped with the reality of it taken to a logical conclusion.”
    “Meaning there’s a big difference between what she thought she was suggesting and what it really entails?”
    “It’s possible.” She paused. “Would you consider leaving the Lois for any reason?”
    I thought about it awhile while I chewed. It was a fair question. “The Lois is my home. She took me in when my mother died and I’m really very happy here.”
    “So there’s no problem then. Stay and enjoy your life aboard. But let me ask you something. Have you ever wondered why there aren’t any old spacers? ”
    “What do you mean? We have some old spacers aboard the Lois .”
    “Really? Who? And if you look in my direction, buddy, you’re going to be plucking that plate out of your rectal region.”
    “Well, Francis is fifty,” I said while I tried to think of anybody older.
    “How long do you think he’ll live, Ish?
    “One thirty, one forty, maybe,”
    “So fifty makes him old? He’s still in the first half of his life.”
    She had me on that one and she knew it. “Okay, I guess you’re right. But what’s your point?”
    “You consider him an old spacer because you don’t have anybody to compare him to. The only people older are the captain and Mr. Maxwell. Francis is actually still a pretty young man.”
    I thought back to mom’s colleagues at the university and realized she was right. Many of them had been over a hundred and still teaching full-time.
    “There are older people working in the Deep Dark but you don’t find them on ships like the Lois . They run their own mom-and-pop ships. You won’t run across them in a spacer bar and you won’t find them at the Union Hall.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Think about it. If you worked for yourself and have your family around you, why would you go to a spacer bar and get into that whole scene? Why would you look for a new berth?”
    “Oh.”
    “Oh, indeed. Ish, most people work commercial like this for maybe ten, twenty stanyers, then they get out. Crew is, ultimately, a dead end job. It’s fun for a while as you found out in Dunsany Roads, but it gets old fast. Eventually you get tired of chasing and want to start building. Brill’s coming up on her ten stanyer mark. I’ve only been doing this for five and I’m already thinking about getting out and settling down myself. I’m not officer material. I just don’t have any interest in that.”
    “Yeah, what about officers? There are a lot of older people doing that.”
    “Officers are different. It’s the difference between labor and management. We’re labor. They’re management. They make a lot more money and have a lot more opportunities. They work very hard for both, but if you’re an officer, you can always get your master’s ticket and get your own ship and run it the way you want to.”
    “Doesn’t that hat assume a lot of money and smarts?”
    “So? What doesn’t? Anybody can sit for an officer exam. A lot of people who never went to the academy do just that. You just need to pay the fee, show up on time, and take the test. The problem comes later. You’re right to have your own ship takes a lot of money, but if you’re a mate, you need to convince somebody to hire ya.”
    “Okay, so what’s the problem?”
    “Well, say you’re a skipper and you want to hire a second mate. Are you going to hire someone who studied on their own and passed the exam? Or would you prefer a person with the degree from the academy?”
    “Oh.” Sometimes I’m really