Quarter Share: A Trader's Tale from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper Read Online Free PDF Page A

head didn’t just turn—it swiveled. His eyes tracked like the twin barrels of some odd gun, precise, mechanical, dead. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “The captain sent me your file and I’ve assigned you to the open quarter share berth in the ship’s mess. Mr. Carstairs will show you to the berthing area and introduce you to the rest of the mess crew.”
    It was as much instruction to Pip as it was a command to me and he responded with an, “Aye, sar.”
    Maxwell continued, “It should come as no surprise to you that you’re taking the place of a crewman who failed to perform to our satisfaction, Mr. Wang. Please see to it that we don’t have to provide the same courtesy to you in our next port of call.”
    “Aye, sar. I’ll do my best,” I replied in what I’d hoped was a steady voice.
    “Dismissed, gentlemen.” He swiveled back to his screen, bringing up the next document.
    Pip stepped back into the passage and I followed as quickly as I could without making it seem like I was running. After we closed the door I started to speak, but a shake of Pip’s head stopped me and we headed down the passage the way we’d come.
    After we’d taken a couple of turns, Pip took a deep breath and said, “That went well.”
    I blinked at him. “Is he always like that?”
    Pip shook his head. “Naw, he’s usually not so friendly. You must have got him on a good day.”
    “Friendly? Are you crazy? That guy scared the crap out of me. Are all the officers like him?” I didn’t remember being afraid of the captain—awed, maybe, but not afraid.
    Pip chuckled. “No. Actually, Mr. Maxwell is pretty decent. With him, you never need to wonder where you stand.”
    “He was like some kind of robot,” I exclaimed.
    “Yeah, most people say that when they first meet him. But after you get to know him, you’ll realize a robot is actually much warmer than he is.” He lowered his voice. “Rumor is that he’s ex-Spec Force. He moves like that because he doesn’t want to kill anybody.”
    I gaped at him.
    “Close your mouth, greenie,” he snickered. “It may or may not be true, but either way he’s the best first mate I’ve ever served under. He really knows how to keep the ship running efficiently.”
    “And that’s a good thing?”
    “You bet. The more efficiently we run, the larger our shares,” Pip said as he headed down the corridor.
    I started to wonder if I’d done the wrong thing by signing up, but I pushed that aside as soon as it entered—it was too late for second thoughts. I hurried down the hallway to catch up with Pip.



Chapter 3

Neris Orbital
2351-September-03

    Pip took me to the berthing area. I’d braced myself for something out of Hornblower with hammocks crammed together in dark squalor, but I found a large, airy room with ten pairs of bunks with corresponding full-length lockers. There was a table and chairs that were, of course, bolted to the deck, and a sanitary facility with more privacy than I had expected.
    “There’s another berthing area just like this across the passage for the Engineering Division. We don’t have a full complement of crew so there are some spare bunks.” He helped me pick one across from his, reset the palm-scan on my locker, and stow my gear. We drew linens from stores and he showed me how to make up a bed bordered by walls on three sides.
    “Shipshape and Bristol fashion,” I mumbled.
    “What?” asked Pip.
    “Nothing, just something my mother used to say.” I smiled as I remembered my introduction to C. S. Forester.
    After that he took me to the third mate, Mr. von Ickles, the systems and communications officer where I got my ShipNet credentials and tablet so I could access the ship’s network and information stores.
    Finally, he introduced me to my immediate boss, Specialist First Chef Ralf al-M’liki. A small, wiry guy with black hair and flashing eyes. He originally hailed from one of the M’bele planets and his galley was redolent of