Nathan Lowell - Quarter Share

“Okay, but the key to earning is being on a ship, isn’t it?”

We had finished with the tables and moved on to sweeping the floor. “I’m not following where you’re going with this, Ish.”

“Suppose something happens here and I get put ashore. As a quarter share, I don’t have much to draw on for a new berth.”

“I’m with you so far.” Pip rinsed out his rag in a bucket and nodded for me to go on.

“Now, if I qualify as a half share in, say, cargo, then my options begin to open up. I’m eligible to take any quarter share berth that comes along or a half share cargo slot.”

“But why would you want to do that?” he asked. “Take the quarter share berth, I mean.”

“Well, maybe the next ship in port doesn’t have a cargo slot open. It would be a cut in pay for me to take the quarter share, but it’s still more than I’d make planet-side earning nothing and paying for everything.”

“True enough.”

“Now, what if I qualify as half share in cargo and engineering? Or cargo and deck?”

“Why wouldn’t you go for full share in cargo?” he asked.

“Well, the qualifying exam for full share is roughly twice as hard as for half share, isn’t it?”

Pip considered this and shrugged to grant me the point. “Yeah, I suppose that’s one perspective.”

“So, for the same amount of effort for full share cargo, I could get two half share ratings in other divisions. And if my goal is the best possible chance of staying employed, wouldn’t it make sense to get a second and third half share rating in order to diversify my options?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me, his head tilted a little sideways. “That’s an odd way to look at it.”

“Yeah, but play the game with me. Take the long view. Where are the most jobs?”

“Full share berths are the most common. So if I want to be guaranteed, as much as possible, that under any given circumstances I can get a position on the next ship, what do I need to have?”

His response came instantly. “A full share rating in a division. You can take any lower position and the majority of them are full share to begin with.”

“Close. What I really need is a full share rating in every division.”

“Goldilocks and her bears, man. That would take forever!”

“Not so long as you might think. A university degree can take four or five stanyers. Advanced degrees even longer.”

“True.” He shrugged and granted me the point.

“It’s much better, from an economic stand point, to be out in the Deep Dark. When I’m planet-side I’m burning creds. So long as I have a berth, I’m making money. So, what I need is the ability to maximize my time on board, and that means being able to take whatever job is open as soon as I need one. Most are full share and, while a lot of those are specialized, my best bet is getting rated in every division.”

I could almost see his mental gears clicking that idea around. After nearly a full tick, he frowned at me. “True. But what if you like one kind better than another? Doesn’t that factor in?”

“Yeah, but not to the extent that I’m willing to go broke waiting for that slot to open up.

He grimaced but nodded slowly. “You’ve got a point, but how long will it take you to make half share?”

“I don’t know, but we’re still twenty-five standays out of Darbat. I bet I can accomplish a lot in that amount of time.”

We finished sweeping and stowed our cleaning gear. Pip turned to me with a thoughtful nod of his head. “If the last three weeks are any indication, my friend, I suspect you’re right.”

Neris System

2351-September-21

A loud electronic horn woke me out of a deep sleep and practically gave me a heart attack. Even before the klaxon had stopped, I heard people moving about in the berthing area, pulling on shipsuits and boots. When the noise stopped, it was followed by the announcement. “NOW THIS IS A DRILL. THIS IS A DRILL. FIRE, FIRE, FIRE. THERE IS A FIRE IN THE PORT-SIDE ENGINE COMPARTMENT. ALL HANDS TO FIRE AND DAMAGE CONTROL STATIONS. THERE IS A FIRE IN THE PORT-SIDE ENGINE COMPARTMENT. ALL HANDS TO FIRE AND DAMAGE CONTROL STATIONS. THIS IS A DRILL. THIS IS A DRILL.”

Pip slapped me on the leg and grinned. “Come on, greenie. Move it!” Beverly was already out of her bunk and zipping a shipsuit. I grabbed mine and followed her and Pip into the berthing area where everybody grumbled but moved sharply. I dressed quickly still pretty disoriented from the sudden arousal. When we exited, Bev peeled off at the passage that led aft and I followed Pip to the galley where we found Cookie waiting for us.

“Such excitement, eh, gentlemen.” His cheerful smile seemed out of place.

I managed a look at the chronometer and saw 01:16. “Do we always do this in the middle of the night?”

Cookie shook his head. “No, young Ishmael, we do it at all times of day.”

Pip snorted a laugh. “Last time was in the middle of lunch service. Trust me, this is easier to deal with.”

I yawned and considered a cup of coffee. “What do we do, and for how long do we do it?”

Pip shrugged. “It depends on the fire and damage teams. They have to make their way aft, assess the situation, and pretend to get the fire under control. While they do that we just have to sit around and wait.”

“If we don’t have to do anything, then why did we have to get up?”

Cookie smiled. “Well, if it were a real fire and the ship was in danger, would you prefer to be asleep in your bunk? In an actual emergency, we would support those doing the real work by supplying food or beverages, helping to tend the injured, or otherwise lending a hand.”

I nodded blearily. “Okay, makes sense. I can deal with that. How often do we have these drills?”

Pip snickered. “Only once a quarter for fire drills but we have suit and lifeboat drills as well. We get about a drill a month.”

“Consider it a down payment on learning how to stay alive in case anything really bad happens, young Ishmael.” Cookie smiled and patted my shoulder.

I chuckled and nodded. “Good point.” I went out and started up a fresh urn of coffee.

After about ten ticks the announcement came over the ship’s speakers. “ALL HANDS STAND DOWN FROM FIRE AND DAMAGE CONTROL STATIONS. THE DRILL IS COMPLETE. THE DRILL IS COMPLETE. SET NORMAL WATCH.”

A tick later, the speakers crackled again. “This is the captain speaking. Excellent work, people. Very fast response times and outstanding performance by the damage control teams in assessing the situation. My congratulations to you all.”

Cookie pulled a tray of pastries from one of the coolers and set it out just in time for about a dozen people who burst onto the mess deck. I was glad I had already started the brewing. The official exercise might be over, but the after drill action had only just begun. Cookie waved over his shoulder as he left, but we stayed around. It didn’t last that long, really. Within half a stan most people had wandered back to their beds and the ship quieted down once more. Pip and I stacked the dirty mugs in the washer and made a quick pass wiping down the tables to make sure we’d be ready for breakfast before going back ourselves.

As I crawled into my bunk I noted the time, 02:21, and hoped that Pip and Cookie were right about not always having drills at night.

As I was prepping for dinner, I was still pondering how best to approach my academic pursuits. Between The Handbook and the ship’s tablet, I held all the answers to the standard questions. My problem was I don’t think what I was considering was normal. What I needed was somebody who was actively engaged in moving up, someone who could help me plot a path to advancement. I’d already gotten Pip’s perspective, and he was only a step further ahead than I was. Then I remembered that when I came aboard Sandy Belterson had been studying for Spec II in Astrogation. I made a mental note to catch her when she came through the serving line.