Torchship (2 page)

“You had the class on analog
navigation,” said Captain Schwartzenberger. “Some analog ships calculate their
courses on the port computers and just follow them when they leave the network.
Or try to sneak a computer on board and hope the Fusion won’t seize them for
having an unsupervised processor. How much actual analog plotting have you
done?”

“Lots, sir.
Elephant’s
Tail’s
master insisted on doing courses ourselves.”

“All right.” He pointed at
the plotting table. “Give me a course for Yulin, leaving at 1800.”

“Yes, sir.” The Almanac for
the system rested on the table. She looked up the vectors for Yulin, Lapis, and
Jason (the station they were docked to above Lapis). “Least time course?” she
asked.

The captain snorted. “Fuel
costs money. Five day transit. Orbit at 400 klicks, standard inc.”

Mitchie pulled out the slide
rule labeled “
Fives Full
torch.” The steel rods slid easily under her
fingers. Clean, not over oiled, no sticky spots. The captain took good care of
his tools. She aligned a vector stick from Lapis to Yulin. A lunar
disk—multiple circles stacked together—went on top of the Lapis marker. Mitchie
adjusted the outermost to show the station’s vector. With the velocity vectors
identified she started doing time and distance calculations on a pad of butcher
paper.

Captain Schwartzenberger stood
silently behind her as the page filled up. At last she wrote out a
summary—boost lengths, transit times, fuel usage—for a direct transfer with an
aerobrake at the destination. She felt the captain lean in to look over her
shoulder at the totals. He made a satisfied grunt.
Must be pretty close to
what he got for the problem
, she thought.

Mitchie flipped to a blank
page and got out another lunar disk. Setting that for Yulin’s moons required
three different consults of the Almanac. A slightly-dusty sliderule came out to
calculate the vector change from a fly-by of the outer moon. The calculations
took two pages this time. Inserting into orbit around Yulin now took four burns
instead of two, but the aerobraking was gentler and total fuel usage lower by
7%. She summed up the course in a few crisp sentences.

“That’s from book learning on
Akiak?” the captain asked.

“More from practice, sir.
Elephant’s
Tail’s
master had everyone nav-qualified calculate maneuvers. It was a
contest. Who could finish first, use least fuel, shortest flight time,
whatever. So we learned a lot of tricks. I think I could save more fuel with a
three-cushion shot but we’d have to wait a week or so for the moons to line up
right.”

Schwartzenberger traced
through the calculations. The flyby hadn’t just slowed the ship relative to the
planet, it had also done part of the plane change from the ecliptic to the
parking orbit inclination. “Okay, you’re an analog nav. I’ll get us some time
on the station simulators and you can show me how you can fly her.”

***

Captain Schwartzenberger led
Mitchie into the galley. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet our new—probationary—pilot.
Michigan Long, from Akiak.”

She looked over the rest of
the crew.
You’d think in a half-Chinese crew I wouldn’t be the shortest.

The middle-aged woman from
the cargo hold turned away from the oven and offered her hand. “Hi, Michigan. I’m
Shi Bingrong, the first mate.” She turned to the two younger men. “This is Guo
Kwan, our mechanic, and Billy the deckhand.” Mitchie shook hands with them in
turn.

“Pleased to meet you. Call me
Mitchie.” The captain took his seat at the head of the table. Mitchie hopped up
to sit on a counter where she could have a view of the cooking. “That smells
great.” Someone had painted a flowering vine along the top of the wall. She
traced it past the stove, behind the cabinets set along the outside of the hull,
and along the other wall, ending up—she twisted her neck—in a swirl of flowers
behind her head.

The mechanic worked a wok. “Food’s
always better in port,” he said. “Nothing like having fresh ingredients.”

The captain snorted. “You
turn your nose up at the fresh option when we’ve been cruising for a few weeks.”

Guo laughed. “No matter what
spices you use there’s not much you can do to make algae tasty.” He sprinkled a
bit from a bottle into the wok. The mate opened the oven and took out some
rolls, filling the air with a scent that made Mitchie ravenous. Billy started
setting the table.

In a few minutes Mitchie sat
next to the mate—“Bing”—with the boys across from them. The foot of the table
and a couple of chairs flanking it were empty. Clearly the ship had room for
more crew than Schwartzenberger had hired. The captain said a brief prayer and
they dove in. Conversation revolved around the food until everyone had their
first servings down.

Bing asked, “So how did you
get to Lapis from Akiak?”

“Oh, I’ve been to a lot of
systems,” answered Mitchie. “I was pilot on
Elephant’s Tail
. But when
she went in for overhaul I took the chance to play tourist here for a couple of
months. Finally got tired of having dirt on my feet so I asked the captain to
take me back into space.” A few more questions from Bing led to a paean to skin
diving, something inconceivable on Mitchie’s cold homeworld. “So how much card
playing do y’all do of nights?”

Guo shook his head in warning.

“None,” growled the captain. “Poker’s
a silly game.”

“Um, when I saw the ship name
. . .” backpedaled Mitchie.

“Oh, the previous owner won
her in a poker game. The crest over the airlock is the exact hand he won her
with. Then he had this ridiculous idea to set her up as a flying gambling
palace but found out the rich people wouldn’t play with him any more after he
took so much of their money. So I picked her up cheap at the bankruptcy
auction. Good thing, too. She’s a good ship. I’d hate to think what condition
she’d be in if the fool had been flying her about.”

“So why didn’t you change the
name?”

“I’ll be damned if I’ll spend
money redoing perfectly good paperwork.”

Guo rescued Mitchie from the
downward trend. “So now you know the Secret History of the
Fives Full
.
In a few more years we’ll probably add a ghost haunting the cargo hold and
leaving poker chips everywhere.” Billy joined in with banter about cleaning up
after ghosts and midnight FOD checks.

Bing turned the conversation
back to Mitchie. “So when did you last see Akiak?”

“It’s been . . . over two
years now. Had a week there when
Elephant
dropped off some cargo. We
were working some long trading chains. Is
Fives Full
going back to the Disconnect
soon?”

Billy replied, “We’re heading
all the way through the Fusion this time. Have some oversized cargo bound for
Demeter. A reactor core shell.”

Captain Schwartzenberger
added, “None of the freightliners wanted to deal with it. They just do
containers. So we’re getting a nice bonus. The risk is whether we can get a
full hold to work our way back toward the Disconnect.” He stood and cleared his
place. “Good night, all.”

As the mechanic and deckhand
finished their meals Bing turned to discussing the nuts and bolts of working on
Fives Full
. “Shifts” weren’t an option with so few crew. Work hours
depended on the ship’s take-off and landing schedule. More tasks, from power
system maintenance to washing dishes, were on a rotating schedule posted in the
galley. “But we’ll hold off a couple of days putting you on the schedule so you
settle in.” Mitchie caught Billy’s sigh at that, and Guo elbowing him in the
ribs for it. “Let’s go look at the open cabins. You can pick out whichever you
like as your bunk.”

Danu System. Acceleration
10 m/s
²

A week later Mitchie had a
turn on galley duty. She rinsed the last spoon and put it in the drying rack.
Being lead pilot on the
Tail
had got her out of galley duty for a year.
Only the captain avoided chores on this ship. Or possibly they were avoiding his
cooking, from the mate’s jokes. A man came into the galley as she wiped down
the counter. She glanced over as he took some crackers from the cupboard. It
was Billy, the handsome deckhand. He said, “Hi,” with a bright smile.

“Evenin’,” she replied,
pulling out a towel. The plates in the rack could wait until morning to be put
away but drying them gave her something to do with her hands.

“How are you liking the ship?”

She kept facing the counter. “It’s
cozy. Feels like a family. Is your big cargo behaving?”

He chuckled. “Completely.
It’s so strapped down it didn’t budge through any of your maneuvers.” Mitchie
kept drying dishes. Billy continued, “There’s enough empty room in the hold for
a dance floor. I got some new music at the station so I can practice the latest
dances. I’d love to practice them with you.”

Mitchie dropped the towel on
the counter and turned around. “Do you give dance lessons to the whole crew?”

“I’ve offered. They’re not
interested. But a beautiful woman like you would make a great impression at a
club.”

“Did you ever hear how I got
my job on the
Elephant’s Tail
?”

“Um, no.”

“The captain had the port
authorities arrest the pilot for murder.”

“Damn!”

“Yep. Pilot was married to
the supercargo. Well, about three weeks before they arrived at Akiak he catches
her with the mechanic using some cargo crates as a mattress. Slapped both of
them around. Didn’t end there, pilot and mechanic kept brawling whenever they
saw each other. Wife screaming at the pilot the rest of the time. So a week out
from planetfall the airlock cycled on night shift. Supercargo’s gone. There’s a
suicide note from her typed up in the hold. Mechanic says pilot faked the note
and murdered her, goes for him with a wrench. Crew get them separated and
locked up. Captain ditched the pilot at Akiak, hired me, then dropped the
mechanic at the next port. And put out a real strict rule about crew dating.”

“Wow. Yeah, guess that’s a
good rule.” Billy swallowed a cracker. “Well, good night.”

“Good night,” said Mitchie as
he left.

Planet Demeter. Gravity
7.5 m/s
²

Bing served lunch outside.
Fives
Full
had a half-klick wide landing pad all to herself so they didn’t have
to worry about anyone interrupting them (Demeter didn’t trust analog ships to
make precision landings). The crew had an awning hanging from the cargo hatch
against the sun. A few crates were set up as tables to hold the picnic.

Captain Schwartzenberger came
up on a scooter and dismounted. He took a seat and tossed his hat on the table.

“Any luck, sir?” asked Bing
as she handed him a sandwich.

“Not really,” said the
captain. “We could take some containers to cover fuel and chow. I was hoping to
find another irregular like that generator to make a profit. Struck out, so I’m
looking at some goods we could take out to the Disconnect for spec sale. Hate
to risk the cash though.” He dove into the sandwich.

Billy and Guo started
debating which Fusion products best fit through the hoops of profitable and
export-legal. Bing chimed in occasionally to shoot down Billy’s wildest ideas. Precision
machine parts were winning the argument when a purple speed-flyer landed nearby.

The short man getting out of
the flyer wore a matching purple suit. “Nice threads,” said Billy. The man
responded to their attention with a smile and wave as he strolled over.

“Good day. I’m looking for
the captain of the
Fives Full
,” he said.

“I’m Captain
Schwartzenberger.”

“Malachi Jones, pleased to
meet you, sir.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Jones,”
said the captain.

“I understand you haven’t set
a departure date.”

“We’re looking at a couple of
offers but haven’t committed to a contract yet.” The crew tried to make their
eavesdropping look discreet.

“Well, if the negotiations
have a bit longer to go, would you be willing to undertake a short-term charter?
About a week, returning here.”

“I’ll certainly consider it. You
are aware that we’re a Disconnected Worlds ship, yes?”

“Oh, certainly. That’s
essential to the deal.” Malachi pulled a crumpled datasheet out of his pocket.
It flattened itself and projected an image of a blue gas giant with green and
yellow rings. “Kronos, sixth planet of our system. Beautiful sight, there’s
pictures of it all over. I think there’s real money in taking tourists to get a
close look at it. No Fusion ship will go out that far. They’d lose connection
with the datanet and shut down. A Disconnect ship can do the trip.” He paused
to let the captain think it through.

“We can certainly go out
there,” said Schwartzenberger. “We have a few passenger berths. But the only
big windows are on the bridge and I can’t let a bunch of untrained people
bounce around in there.” He glanced around. Mitchie scribbled on her loaner datasheet.
The rest looked away.