John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

“Uh, I don’t want to clear boats,” Mike said, holding up his hands.

“Sophia hasn’t cleared an actual powered boat since we started,” Steve said. “My point is, Chris, you said I get to decide. Should I? I’m not saying I shouldn’t. I think, for now, that’s the way to go. But what’s my authority? What’s it based on? Saving people?”

“That’s a pretty good basis,” Paula said. “Why don’t we put it to a vote?”

“Because if we’d put it to a vote at a certain point when Isham was onboard I might have lost?” Steve said.

“So you want to stack the deck?” Chris said.

“Not stack the deck,” Steve said. “But who we get off of boats is a crap shoot. Do we automatically give them voting rights? How often do we have elections?”

“You want a charter?” Patrick said. “Like I said, companeres. And I was serious.”

“There’s no Starfleet, Patrick,” Paula said.

“There wasn’t with the companeres,” Patrick said. “I think… Okay, pirates, then.”

“Oh, great choice,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “We’re not pirates !”

“When pirates captured a ship, they had to decide who got it,” Patrick said. “And they were freebooters. They worked for shares. The shares were based on… Actually, I’m not sure what the shares were based on but they voted on the basis of their shares.”

“Okay, now you’re talking my language,” Mike said. He’d been looking puzzled through the whole exchange.

“Go,” Steve said.

“Lots of boats, tugs, fishing boats, are share boats,” Braito said. “When you make money off something like salvage, part of it goes to the cost. Like, the food, fuel, some for maintenance. Then the profit’s split between the owner and the crew. Sometimes it’s not a direct split but it’s pretty close. Then it’s broken up. The captain gets part of the share, then the other bosses, then the crew. Usually it’s the captain gets twenty, thirty percent, the other senior guys, deck boss and engineer usually, share another twenty and the hands share out the rest. Newbies don’t get a share, just straight rate. To get to be share hands, they have to be voted on by the crew.”

“You’re talking about Deadliest Catch ?” Faith asked.

“That’s how they do their shares,” Braito said, nodding. “And when you have something that’s a question that the crew gets rights on having a say, they vote their shares.”

“Freebooters,” Chris said, rubbing his beard. “Heh. I always sort of wanted to be a pirate.”

“What about larger decisions?” Steve said. “No, back to the point. Is that the way that we should organize ourselves? Does it make sense?”

“For this level,” Paula said. “But your point about larger is valid. We’re planning on being bigger, right?”

“And what about salvage?” Chris said. “Mike, I get the point that the Victoria isn’t ‘legal salvage.’ But we need those supplies.”

“I’ll share, man,” Mike said. “I’ll even help. But I really don’t want to go around clearing boats. Not my thing. Especially after sitting in that fucking hole listening to the zombies howl for months.”

“Fifty percent,” Steve said. “When we clear a boat, any survivors get fifty percent of the materials the boat is carrying for trade. Crew or passengers. If you were on the boat, you get fifty percent of the material . The flotilla gets the other fifty percent and the boat unless it’s turned over to one of the survivors for reasons determined by…well we’ll get to that. Of that, some amount goes to the boat that cleared it, some to the boat that found it if it’s not the clearance boat. The rest goes to support the overall flotilla.”

“I can go fifty percent,” Mike said, grimacing. “Do I keep the boat?”

“Mike, we’re probably going to be using it for storage,” Steve said. “Until we get something better. You’re not going to go hungry again. You okay with that? Being the base station? And your share is fifty percent of the materials to trade if you want.”

“I can do that,” Mike said, nodding. “Not sure what I’ll trade.”

“Okay, first, do we have a second that boats organize on the basis of shares?”

“Second,” Paula said. “Wait, are we voting on a shares basis?”

“Not yet,” Steve said. “We have a second. Objections?”

“It’s out of order,” Chris said. “But before we vote, what are the shares?”

“Figure that out after we determine if we’re going to do it on a shares basis…”

* * *

“Okay,” Steve said, looking at Sophia’s notes. “I think we’ve got the beginnings of a working governmental organization here. Each boat votes and shares materials on the basis of shares. Captains have the right to choose their crews. Crews can call for a vote of no-confidence and oust the captain but since if it fails the crew can then be fired by the captain…better be careful with that. New captains are sent to the captain’s board from the commodore and must be approved by a majority of the captain’s board. Currently, that’s me, Chris and Mike. Captains have pre-modern rules of the sea, but do not have the right of corporal or capital punishment. All lower order crimes, petty theft, assault, fighting among the crew, are handled at the discretion of the captain of the boat. All higher order felonies, notably rape, mutiny or murder, must have a trial by jury or, if that’s infeasible, agreement of three captains who have been shown good evidence. Captains follow the orders of the… Agh, ‘commodore,’ currently one Steven John Smith, captain of the Tina’s Toy in all normal day to day operations of the flotilla.

“Newly rescued persons do not have the right to vote until agreeing to become members of the flotilla and being accepted as full crew members. All large decisions are by vote of the captains board or all flotilla members, depending. More complete charter to be written up at a later time. Charter to be voted on by straight vote of all members of the flotilla. And I foresee a couple more meetings, at least at long range. Persons who choose not to be with the flotilla will be organized in groups and then at some point put off on functioning boats to do whatever the hell they want.”

“Shunning,” Paula said.

“Should such persons attack or steal from the flotilla… Pretty much all we’ve got right now is shunning or capital punishment. Cross that bridge…”

“Motion,” Chris said. “I motion that this organization hereafter take the name Wolf’s Floating Circus. Can I get a second?”

“Damn,” Patrick said. “I was hoping for Sea Quest.”

“Second,” Paula said. “Get me a screen printer and I can make an awesome t-shirt for that!”

“I think you need to call for a vote,” Chris said, grinning.

“I’m trying to remember Robert’s Rules of Order to see if I can quash it,” Steve said, frowning. “Okay, okay, all in favor…?

* * *

“Well, that was a pain in the ass,” Steve said as the Victoria dropped its final anchor in Jew’s Bay.

Tug operations turned out to be anything but straightforward. Trying to do it with an untrained crew had turned out to be a right pain in the ass. But they’d finally gotten it into place.

But they’d finally gotten the tug into place. Jew’s Bay was about the most protected spot in the complex of islands that made up “Bermuda.” At least the most protected that they could tow the Victoria into safely. There were some tighter and better protected creeks but there was no way they were getting the Victoria into them.

The edges of the bay were littered with small craft, proof that “sheltered” was a relative term. The tropical storm that had made their life hell had driven them all onto the islands. And while there were “open” areas, areas free from obvious zombies, on the surrounding islands, just scanning you could see zombies moving around. Not much and not aggressively. But they were there.