Nathan Lowell - Quarter Share

Pip pointed at me and grinned. “Well, we owe it all to Ish.”

I groaned. “Oh, come on. Save the kissing up until this actually works. We’ve got a lot of things to figure out yet.”

Francis snorted a laugh. “Like what?”

“Well, does everybody know how to move the grav-pallet? Are we all clear on how to set up the booth? Have we established who’ll handle the money? If we’re going to take a percentage we should have a cashier, and maybe that’s the manager. I don’t know. Where do we stow the pallet when the market is closed? Do we know where to rent chairs on St. Cloud? Has anybody looked at the rental agreements there?” I ran through the issues rather quickly off the top of my head. The group sat staring at me.

Pip shook himself out of a daze and pulled out his tablet. “Could you run through that list again?” he asked, holding his stylus.

Everybody laughed and we got on with the process of organizing the co-op. I wanted Lois to be proud of us.

Unfortunately, we were interrupted by the pingity-pingity-pingity of the abandon ship alarm. We bolted for the boat dock and arrived at the gym just as the announcement came for the drill. We split up to attend to the ship’s business.

Two days later, after the evening clean up, the steering committee convened in the main cargo lock where we practiced locking, unlocking, loading, and unloading the grav-pallet. There wasn’t a lot to it, but if you had never done it before it could be intimidating. The secret was in the tow handle and Biddy had us all maneuvering pallets around like pros in less than a stan. She also arranged with Mr. Cotton to be able to bring our pallet back from the flea market each night and park it in the ship’s cargo lock. There was a kind of vestibule where we could leave the pallet without it being in the way. We’d have to stow it with the rest when transporting but that was only to be expected.

Three days out of St. Cloud we gathered for one last planning session in the mess. We identified sources for tables, chairs, card stock, and markers. We worked out a rough plan to display all the various items that the crew had to sell. The group determined that we’d need two tables but we only had one cloth. Pip suggested a standard ship’s blanket, but Cookie, who had been lurking in the background, tossed a covering matching the original. Officially, the cloths stayed as part of the galley’s stores so we were probably violating some rule, but we trusted Lois wouldn’t mind. Drawing up the final schedule for booth shifts, we split the days in half so nobody had to stay the whole time if they didn’t want to. Last we created a list of the people who’d be moving their goods up first and another for those who would be bringing theirs along later.

I was amazed, frankly. What had started with the innocent concept of let’s rent a booth had become a paramilitary operation complete with scheduled supply runs as Cookie volunteered to pack bento-boxes and fill thermoses.

A day out of St. Cloud, Mr. Maxwell called me and Pip to the office so we could sign the legal agreements to formally form the ship’s cooperative. This made it possible to have accounts in the ship’s ledger to keep the money straight. As a recognized sub-entity of the ship, we also stayed within the regulations on use of rental spaces. While we were there setting up the accounting and going through the procedures, the captain joined us.

“Gentlemen, I don’t want to interrupt, but I thought I would stop by and thank you for what you’re doing for the crew.”

Pip and I looked at each other. “Us, Captain?”

Mr. Maxwell added his two creds worth with a dramatic sigh. “Yes, you. The polite response would have been to say, ‘Thank you, Captain,’ but I suppose that would be too much to ask.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Pip and I spoke together.

The captain smiled at us. “I’ll be frank. When I first heard about this idea, and that you two scalawags were involved, I had my doubts. But already it has improved morale aboard the ship. You boys are doing a good thing and even if it all comes crashing down when we get to St. Cloud, the progress you’ve already made in breaking barriers between our various divisions is astonishing. So, I’ve come to thank you on behalf of the ship. Good trading, gentlemen.”

“Thank you, Captain,” we replied in unison again.

She nodded to Mr. Maxwell and left.

After she had gone Mr. Maxwell turned his attention back to us. “Well, lads, I think that about sums it up. You’re in business. If you’ll tell me how many of the days we’re in port you’ll be using, I’ll have Mr. von Ickles message the orbital on behalf of the co-op. Then you’ll be off and running.”

Pip had the numbers all ready. “We’re due to dock tomorrow afternoon and the schedule says we’re pulling out in the morning five days later so we’d like the four full days we have in port, please.”

Mr. Maxwell nodded. “Easily done. You probably already know the St. Cloud Orbital has the same rental agreement as you found in Margary. I believe it’s the same subcontractor operating both markets actually.”

Pip nodded. “Yes, sar, and the same company has Dunsany Roads’ Orbital as well.”

I added the specifics of what we’d need to the list. “Sar, could you request the booth, two standard tables, and two chairs? The rental agreements listed those options and it should come to sixteen creds per day for a total of sixty-four creds.”

He nodded. “Of course, Mr. Wang. Will that be the standard configuration?”

I nodded and Pip answered, “Yes, sar, We have a total of seventeen crew planning on using the booth over the four days and at least three consignments which should cover that amount and then some.”

I had one more piece of business. “We took a collection and have a hundred creds as seed money to open the accounts with.”

Mr. Maxwell smiled and shook his head. “That’s not necessary. You already have a hundred and forty creds in your balance.”

Pip asked before I could. “Where did that come from, sar?”

He smiled and, I’m not sure if I was just getting use to his grin, but for once it wasn’t frightening. “Forty came from you, Mr. Carstairs, back on Margary. The other hundred came from Lois.”

St. Cloud Orbital

2352-February-17

We docked at the St. Cloud Orbital right on schedule and the captain declared liberty almost immediately. By prior arrangement, Pip took Biddy and Rhon to scope out the flea market and rent a locker so we could have secure storage nearby.

Cookie and I made a pasta bake and garlic bread for the evening buffet. We suspected that few people would be aboard for dinner except the few who had to be. Everything was ready by 16:00.

“Cookie? When was the last time you went out for dinner?”

He stopped wiping down the counter and thought for a long time. “I confess it has been a while, young Ishmael. Why do you ask?”

“Because tonight would be a good opportunity for you to go. Dinner is all prepared and just needs to be put out. The dessert is already warming in the oven. You deserve a night out. You should go. I can solo one dinner service especially on a first night in port.”

Cookie cocked his head to one side as he considered the proposition. After a couple of ticks he smiled. “You are correct, young Ishmael, and there is an old friend who has a restaurant here. I’ll do it,” he said enthusiastically with a little nod of his head. “This is very thoughtful. Thank you.” With that, he strolled out of the galley and left me alone with the pasta.

About then Bev stuck her head in the galley door. “Hey, Ish? You know you ran out of coffee out here, don’t ya?”