Pip got a message from his Aunt P when we docked that they would meet us in Dunsany Roads. They were offering to give us a ride to Port Newmar. It would not be as luxurious as a stateroom on the Benjamin Franklin and we would have to work passage, but it would also be five kilocreds cheaper for each of us. I still did not know how I was going to pay for school, but at least I was beginning to think I might actually make it there.
When Pip told me, I asked, “How can they afford to do that? Just drop everything and fly off to the ends of the universe?”
He snickered. “Aunt P probably has a line on some high priority cargo in Dunsany Roads that needs to be either at Port Newmar or someplace close. You wait and see. They’ll turn a profit on the trip. In both directions.”
I shook my head. “How can they do that?”
He shrugged. “We’re moving six hundred metric tons in the container and it’s costing us six thousand creds per trip. That’s profit to the company. They’re moving eight kilotons at a time—that’s about thirteen containers worth—and it costs them maybe five kilocreds for the lot.”
“That’s a lot less than we were paying per ton.”
“Yeah, and they’re also moving cargoes like delicate electronic instruments and small, high value integrated circuits. We’re paying ten creds a ton in shipping costs and they’re paying less than one. They can do that because they own the ship, their expenses are really low, and they have a lot of creds and a good credit line so they can afford to take on cargo on spec that costs ten kilocreds a ton and the hauling capacity to grab a lot of it. If we could afford a container full of integrated circuits we wouldn’t need to go to the academy. We could retire on it. They can also make port a little more than twice as often so where we’re lucky to make port six times a stanyer, they may make twelve or fourteen.”
I laughed. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Yeah, but it’s not. They’ve worked for a long time to get where they are, but believe me when I say that they are not doing this out of the goodness of their hearts. Aunt P will have profit on the ledger by the time we dock,” he said proudly.
“So, you don’t think it’s to make sure you make it this time?” I asked with a grin.
“Oh, that, too.” He laughed. “But we are gonna have fun on the trip out.”
We didn’t do anything too risky on Niol. Pip and I were saving our money and I found that a quiet walk around the orbital with Bev or Brill, and occasionally both of them, was very pleasant. We would slip into a café and grab a pastry or a beer and talk and laugh. We laughed a lot, we three. I tried not to think too far ahead, and I wanted to enjoy what time I could get with them before I had to leave.
The pull out at Niol was the first rough one I had been through. I was looking at the display and saw the field strength flicker on the starboard side tug for just a fraction of a heartbeat as they took the strain of the ship. It was enough to jolt us and while it knocked people around a little, it did no real damage. Just a friendly reminder of why we do everything so carefully. The tug skipper was mortified and apologized the whole way out. The captain just shrugged it off. “We’ve been through worse,” she told him.
I finished up the advance math course within a couple days of getting underway for Betrus and Mr. von Ickles sent me the spec one systems curriculum. “With the math behind you, I bet you can pass it on the next cycle.” He had said and was right. The quarterly tests were three weeks later, right after transition into Betrus. I only got an eighty-nine, but I passed.
When the test was over, I asked him, “Why did we do this, sar? I’ll be at the academy before I ever find a spec one berth.”
“Because, Mr. Wang, having passed spec one, you can now get your Confederated Planets Joint Committee on Communications license to operate mobile systems and communications.”
“What are you talking about, sar?”
He grinned. “It’s basically the same test. Grab the study guide from the academy library when you get there. You’ll get the additional material easily enough. Take your license test as soon as you can. It’s good for five stanyers and, by the time it’s due to expire, you’ll have been a third mate for a year. You can renew it by paying a fee.”
“Sneaky, sar,” I told him.
“Thank you for noticing, Mr. Wang.”
The approach to Betrus was a lot less exciting than the previous one had been. I was beginning to appreciate the value in less exciting. Pip had handled the trading on the way in, but we hadn’t picked up as much as we’d hoped we might. We actually made less on this leg than we had with a load of fertilizer and fish. Still it took us over thirty kilocreds which was what each of us needed to cover the first year at the academy.
The other shoe dropped when the financial aid package came back. It was for four years and contained grants, loans, and work-study, but it was capped at eight kilocreds a year. I was going to have to make up the rest, somehow. While it would cover almost all of the tuition, it wouldn’t be enough to cover room, board, books, and fees. With my half of the profits with Pip, I had about enough to cover two years and a bit.
I talked with Mr. von Ickles about the problem. “You’ll find a way. Believe in yourself, Ishmael. You’ve got two stanyers covered and only need to cover the other two.” He sounded confident, but I wasn’t so sure. I had visions of getting to my junior year and having to drop out because I could not pay the bills. Where other students would have parents to co-sign loans, I was on my own.
Well, not quite on my own. I made an appointment to see the captain on the day before we got underway for Dunsany Roads.
In the meantime Pip lined up a full container of malted barley to take to Dunsany. We had not had much luck with the diversified cargo strategy, in large part because we didn’t have enough creds to make it worthwhile. The malted barley took practically every cred we had and frankly, I was leery about doing it. I assumed we could at least get back to break even after paying for the container, but we really needed more. Unfortunately, with all our credits tied up in the container, we did not even have enough left over to do much with the flea market.
Bev, Brill and I continued our walks in Betrus. It got harder for me to face the idea that I would have to say goodbye to them in a few weeks. Part of me looked forward to the going away party, but it still ate at me. They did not seem too concerned and rebuffed every attempt I made at talking about what was ahead. I think that made it all the harder for not being able to share that.
The day before pull out, the captain met with me.
“How can I help, Mr. Wang?” she asked as we settled at the table in the cabin.
“Well, Captain, I got the results for financial aid back from the academy. It’s a full four-year package, but it only covers about half the cost. With what Pip and I have made trading—assuming we don’t lose much of it between here and Dunsany, I’ve got enough for about two years.”
“Sounds like you’ve made good progress.”
“I’m troubled about the other two years, though, Captain. How likely is it that I could get a loan from a bank on Port Newmar?”
Well, you’ll be twenty-two with good prospects and working on your education. I suspect you’d have no problem. The bankers on Port Newmar are used to dealing with broke soon-to-be officers.”
“I see. Thank you, Captain. That’s really all I wanted to know. With as many people as you’ve sent there, I suspected you’d know the ins and outs of it as well as anybody.”
She smiled at that. “Probably true.” She paused for a few heartbeats before continuing. “There is one other option, but I’m not sure it’s right for you. Federated Freight has a plan where they’ll pay up to half your tuition, books, and provide a housing allotment while you’re at the academy.”
“What’s the catch, Captain?”
“You have to agree to work for Federated Freight for five stanyers after graduation.”
I thought about that for a time before asking, “And why don’t you think t
hat’s right for me, Captain?”
“Because, Mr. Wang, you’re going to have a lot more, and better, offers when you graduate than being locked into a Federated Freight third mate slot. Granted it’s only for five years and would probably be an easy way for you to get the funding you need, but I just have the feeling that if you can manage to scrape through without that burden on the back-end, you’ll be better off.”
“Thank you for telling me, Captain.”
“You can always sign on to Federated Freight after you graduate, but you’ve made some excellent contacts outside the corporate world already and my professional opinion is that you’re going to want to keep those options open after graduation.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, Captain. I appreciate your perspective and I think you’re right. I’ll do what I can to make sure number thirty-four doesn’t break your streak,” I said with a smile.
“I’m not worried, Mr. Wang.”
The trip from Betrus to Dunsany Roads was bittersweet. I had read that phrase in the old stories that Mom had made me read. I never had a real appreciation for it before that last trip on the Lois McKendrick. In some ways the last trip seemed interminable, and in others it passed in an instant.
The cargo tracking code that we worked on was now part of the main systems package of the ship and Mr. von Ickles had submitted it to Federated Freight for consideration on all their vessels. Pip had saved a copy of it and we set it up so it would run on my portable. Mr. von Ickles helped. It probably was not legal, but we did it anyway.
The astrogation updates flowed smoothly as well. We were able to carve a couple of days off both ends of the jump and that would result in a nice little addition to share pool. Ms. Avril worked on refining the course display monitors to reflect the new rich data that we were able to use because of the automated updates, and was very excited about the potential applications.
We jumped into Dunsany Roads at the end of June and the beacon carried a directive from home office to remove my spec two berth on docking. It freed me to leave the ship, of course, but also robbed Mr. von Ickles of the opportunity to bring in a replacement. Personally, I was of two minds. There was no question that I had been able to help the ship become more effective and profitable. But I had to agree with home office that it perhaps might not be the most efficient application of resources.
One small surprise happened when CC took, and passed the spec one environmental test. He’d been keeping such a low profile down there that I’d lost track of him. Diane and Brill both said he had turned around dramatically since those first days and had nothing but good things to say about him. Perhaps it was just the added awareness but I suddenly noticed that he and Sarah seemed to have become something of an item. She smiled a special grin when he came into the mess deck and, for his part, he seemed a little less brash and a little gentler when she was around. Apparently Lois approved of the new CC.
Pip’s trading in the malted barley was spectacular. We locked in the selling price well in advance of docking and our account stood at just over forty kilocreds. Looking back over the time frame, I thought we’d done pretty well to double our money in just a few months. Mr. Cotton and Mr. Maxwell both congratulated us. I wondered how much we would have amassed with another stanyer, but shook that idea out of my head.
Chapter Thirty-One
Dunsany Roads Orbital
2353-July-18
When they called navigation detail for my last run into Dunsany on the Lois, I reported to the bridge and it was all I could do not to cry. The careful choreography of tug, ship, and orbital seemed just a bit more special because I knew it would be a long time before I got a chance to sit on the bridge of a ship like the Lois McKendrick again. We eased in and latched on without incident and there was a moment of quiet in me, if not in the bridge itself. It was done. A few weeks shy of two years, I could almost feel that Lois had finished with me.
I stood and secured the console, powering it down all the way for the first time since Mr. von Ickles had brought it up for me to use. I looked out at the ships on either side, not wanting to look at the people on the bridge just yet. Dick Graves at astrogation, Salina and Fong on ship handling, Sandy Belterson standing by to take the watch. Mr. von Ickles, Mr. Kelley, Mr. Maxwell, and the captain. I knew they were all there, but I struggled to get control before I tried to say anything.
“If you’d do the honors, Mr. Pa?” The captain said. “Secure from navigation detail. First section has the watch.”
She waited for Fong to finish, then turned to Mr. Maxwell. “You may declare liberty at your discretion, Mr. Maxwell.”
“Thank you, Captain. Make the announcement, Mr. Pa.”
While Fong announced liberty, Mr. von Ickles held out his hand to shake mine. “Best wishes, Mr. Wang. It’s been an honor sailing with you.”
One after another they all came and if they noticed I did not speak, they didn’t mention anything. The captain came last, of course, and said, “If you’d come to the cabin, Mr. Wang, we have some paperwork to finish up.” She didn’t wait for me, just turned and left. I followed her. Around us the bridge crew secured the consoles. The business of the ship continued and, even though I was no longer part of it, the rightness of it made me feel a little better.
When we got to the cabin, the captain apologized. “I’m sorry to have to boot you off, Ishmael, but it’s actually going to work out in your favor.”
“It’s okay, Captain, I understand.”
“You’ll continue to collect half-pay until your contract expires, because the company dismissed the berth. You’re not obligated to take anything less than a spec one systems berth and you’re not going to be here long enough for that to matter.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“The standard procedure is to extend the courtesy of the ship until the end of the watch, so you’ll have until 18:00 to pack up and say your goodbyes. It’s only 10:30 now so you should have plenty of time. Most of the crew will be on liberty, but you may find a few of them at some disreputable spacer bar down on the oh-two level at about 20:00 tomorrow evening. Jump! I believe it’s called,” she said, a small grin pulling up the corners of her mouth.
“I think I know the place, Captain.” I felt touched that the captain herself would tell me.
“You’ll need to initial your logout at the gangway when you leave and surrender your ship’s tablet at that time. You’re not obligated to check out until 18:00, of course, so if you have any shopping or anything you want to do before final check out, that’s not a problem. Any questions so far?”
“No, Captain,” I think I’ve got it.
“The last bit of business is to let you know that I got a message at the beacon from Captain Carstairs and they’ll be a couple days late meeting up with you and Pip. They’re expected to dock early on the twenty-first, so you’ll have a couple of days real liberty on the station.”
“I’m not sure I remember how to act without a watch schedule to guide me, Captain.”
“My advice is sleep while you can. It’s the one thing you’ll never have enough of at the academy,” she said with a straight face and a twinkle in her eye.
“Thank you, Captain. Good advice.”
“Now, that the ship’s business is complete, let me tell you how proud I am of you. You’ve come a long way since the scared boy that came aboard in Neris, and I’m sure your mother would be proud as well.”
She caught me with that one, and I started to tear up. I could feel my control crumbling even as I tried to grab a hold of it.
“Well, silly me,” she said gently, “I seem to have left my tablet on the bridge. If you’d be so good as to excuse me, Mr. Wang. I’ll just leave you here for a few ticks.”
She crossed to the door. Before opening it, she said very gently without turning, “Tissues are by the sofa. Use as many as you need.” She slipped out and latched the door behind her.
I cried then. I cried for my mother, dead two years and not prop
erly mourned until that moment. I cried for Lois because I was going to miss her so much. I cried because I was going to have to say goodbye to Diane, Brill, Beverly, Cookie, and even Mr. Maxwell. I cried because I had come to love this place and these people who had welcomed me into their home and let me make it mine for a time when I needed the shelter. I cried for me because I hurt, even though I knew that hurt would pass. And I cried because while I knew the boy I had been was still inside, I also knew he would never be the same.
In a surprisingly short time, I cried myself out. I had an astonishing pile of tissues to deal with, and the feeling that my throat might be raw for a while. I cleaned myself up as best I could and dropped the soggy wad down the disposal chute, smiling with the silly thought that part of me would be staying with the ship.
By the time the captain returned with her tablet, I was more or less under control. If she noticed anything untoward about my appearance, she didn’t mention it.
“Right then,” she said. “I think that’s about it. There’s a packet of information you might find useful waiting for you at the gangway, including storage cubes of your personnel jacket and your personal records from the ship’s system. There’s also information about where you might stay on the orbital until Captain Carstairs arrives.”
“Thank you, Captain. It’s been an honor serving on the Lois. I’ll never forget all you’ve done for me.”
“I know you’ll do us proud, Mr. Wang,” she said, and shook my hand.
“I’ll do my best, Captain.”
As I left the cabin, I was uncertain about what to do. I had the day to pack but the urge to leave immediately seized me. I headed for berthing and put everything but the clothes I would wear ashore into a duffel. I wondered if they used shipsuits on the Bad Penny but I would have a couple of days to sort that out. I pulled out my civilian model peeda and wondered if I could get a new tablet at the academy. In the meantime, I made sure the bank balances and other information I needed from the tablet were properly reflected on my peeda. The split from our trading and my accumulated pay and shares amounted to just over twenty-four kilocreds. It seemed like an insane amount but I knew it was going to have to last for a long time. Everything seemed to be in order.