20 Isten 1117: Fugitak – Adar/Hinterworlds (0602 C5A027A-5 Lo Ni De A 125 Na F2V M3D)
I had scheduled the passenger interviews for the morning and the cargo negotiations for the afternoon. It was annoying having to work around the common room schedule, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I had already been notified of several additional fines we had racked up; everything from tampering with the local network to failure to interact with local commerce to setting off an explosive device within an inhabited area. I have no idea what that last one was, and no one would tell me.
I had someone show up almost immediately. A couple with two young children, and the woman looking as if she was dangerously close to producing the third. The adults sat down while the two kids wandered over to the dispensers.
“You’re going to Boilingbrook,” the man asked.
I nodded. “We’re currently scheduled for lift in 4 days, on the 24th. You looking for one cabin or two?”
“One big enough for all of us, if we can.”
“Sure. We can reconfigure however you need. Any other special needs?”
He looked at his partner. “Um… do you have a Medic on board?”
I started to mention Percy, then thought about Dr. Korvusar. “Yes, we have a Medic with us.” I decided not to say that she was a passenger, not part of the crew.
“Good.” He looked over at his partner again and sighed. “I want us to be out of here before…” He trailed off.
“If there isn’t anything else, I don’t see any problems, Mr….”
The woman spoke up. “I’m Atana, Atana Kapar,” she said. “This is Gherome. And those are Jeorge and Kyla.” She gestured toward the children who were pulling a surprising number of sweets from the dispenser. “We’re… we’ve been here for a while.”
While she was talking, Gherome had been digging in his bag. He started pulling out Credits. Actual printed Credits. Bundles of them.
He started stacking them on the table. “We’ve been here for seven years,” he said, looking not at me but at the stacks he was making. “I thought this was our chance. I thought we could make something for ourselves. On the frontier. You know?”
I could see the emotion in his expression. “I can’t raise a family here. Not anymore. I’m a tech. A good one. I’m sure they need someone like me there.”
“I don’t know anything about the economy there, but they seem to be doing pretty well.” I didn’t want to mislead him. Tech skills didn’t always translate from one planet to another; even a single shift in Tech Level could render most of what you knew irrelevant. On the other hand, everyone used more or less Imperial-standard tech. Most of the time. So he would… probably be OK?
He sighed and leaned forward. “Thank you.” He gestured to the stacks of credits on the table. “32 k-creds, right? Medium passage for 4 people?”
“Yeah, that’s standard rate. No problem.”
“We just need to get out before…” he looked over at Atana again, “you know…”
“Yeah, I get it.” From his concern and the way she was looking, I wondered whether we would have to handle a birth in Jumpspace.
Atana shook her head. “We’ve been trying to leave for years. We had saved enough to leave, then Jeorge was born. Then Kyla. If we have to wait longer because…” She placed a hand on her stomach and trailed off.
“Well then, I’m glad we came through when we did.” I picked up the Credits and put them in my pack without counting. From the very brief time I had spoken to them, I was already sure it was correct.
“Thank you,” said Gherome. “We’re staying at Alek’s. Let us know when we can board?”
I nodded. “We’re there too. And it will be on the 24th, probably around 1000. Gotta get the ship ready to head out again. That OK?”
He nodded, “Yes. Thank you, Captain…”
I stood up and held out my hand. “Kodai. Captain Kodai, but you can call me Derek.”
“Thank you, Derek,” he said again. “Thank you.”
He turned and left, heading towards where Jeorge and Kyla were sitting with plates full of cookies and ice cream. Sometimes I wish I could have that for my lunch.
“Thank you,” said Atana. She stood up and glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to me. “Gherome thought… he thought we could make a life here. We couldn’t. But every time he had saved up enough to get away, we… well…”
She hesitated, then continued. “He doesn’t blame them. He loves both of them. He… he blames me. He gets… angry. If you hadn’t come through…” she paused. “I don’t know if he could have waited long enough to raise another passage.”
I frowned. “Is he… Are we likely to have a problem with him?” I paused. “Do you have a problem with him? I… we can…”
She frantically waved her hands at me. “No! No, no! Everything is fine. I just… I’m just pleased that you are getting us out of here, Captain. Derek.” She smiled weakly. “Once we get somewhere where we can actually breathe the air, I think we’ll be fine.”
Part of me wanted to know more, but another part told me to keep my distance. They were just passengers, after all. “I’m sure things will be better on Boilingbrook.”
She smiled faintly. “I am too, Captain. Derek. Thank you for taking us.” She shook my hand and headed off to join Gherome and her children.
I sat back down, thinking. They had taken four of our life-support slots. Dr. Korvusar had another. Well, two. We had life support for 12 passengers, but I was following Captain Anna’s precedent and was giving High Passengers the equivalent of a single cabin, not a double. We lost credits that way; we would make more if we limited the space to the minimum allowed, but she always said that the word-of-mouth prestige associated with giving passengers more space would make up for it. The Traveller’s Aid Society took note of those things, and they were the ones who directed passengers and some cargo to us. So, I was keeping her rules.
We made most of our credits from cargo anyway.
It turned out to be academic since no more potential passengers showed up before I had to clear for “lunch.” I signed up for the same slot the next day.
Signup, by the way, is done on an actual piece of paper attached to a porous board on the wall with a pin. Weird, but that’s how they do things here.
The afternoon was cargo. I picked up a couple of Freight shipments, which at least cover the bills, but there wasn’t much spec Cargo available. Not unexpected, with a population this small.
A few people showed up with some “art” objects that they were trying to sell. I don’t know enough about art to make a sound judgment, but none of them looked like anything I would expect to make a profit on. Mainly, since most of the “artists” (and I use that term loosely) seemed to have a higher opinion of their talent than I did. I did manage to put together a minor lot, but I didn’t have much hope.
I ate dinner early and headed back to my room before any of the rest of the crew showed up. Varan and Saahna had come through long enough to wave in greeting, but that was it. I hadn’t seen Jami in a few days.
And I hadn’t seen Do’rex since we landed. I frowned and pinged his comm channel. He responded almost immediately.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Just checking in; hadn’t seen you since we landed and wanted to make sure you were OK.”
There was a pause. “Are you monitoring our downtime now, Captain?”
I was a bit taken aback. “No! No. It’s just that, with Fugitak being such a small planet…”
“I’m fine, Captain. I thank you for your concern, but I am fine. I will see you back on the ship when we depart.” He clicked off.
I shrugged. The crew’s downtime is their own. I wasn’t trying to keep tabs on him; I just wanted to make sure he was OK, especially since the planet was so small and I hadn’t seen him. Oh well, he would get over it.
Oh well. As soon as I finish with this, I’ll log off and watch a net-vid for a bit. Captain Kodai, out.