Quarter Share

“Let’s just say, I got off on the wrong foot with that crew. The Duchamp had just put into Arghon and the Lois came in right behind it. Word got around the docks that there was a woman on the Lois who wanted to get into environmental but there weren’t any openings. By that time I had a miserable reputation and I really was afraid they were going to strand me. Alvarez, she was the second mate on the Duchamp, talked to Mr. Maxwell, and I gladly traded my space there for the opening in the mess here.”

“Wow, luck was in your pocket that day, huh?”

He chuckled. “So it would seem. I never did find out why Mr. Maxwell was willing to take the trade, but that enjoy-the-ride speech was the last thing Alvarez told me before she kicked me out of the lock. It stuck with me. I’ve fit in better here, certainly. It feels more like I belong. But I think part of it is because I have taken a different approach and enjoying the ride, as it were.”

I nodded and we worked on the pans in comfortable silence for a time.

“Cookie was here last night.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

“That’s odd. What’d he want?”

“Odd isn’t the half of it. He wanted me to select a specialty to pursue.”

Pip snickered. “Great gods and small piscatorials, you haven’t been here a month and he’s already planning your future?”

I shrugged and handed him a pot to dry and stow. “More like, he’s afraid I’m gonna get bored as a cook and I need to be working on my next step now so I’ll be ready when the opportunity comes.”

Pip nodded and gave me a rueful grin. “Yeah, he’s always after me to pursue something, too.”

“So…?”

“So, what?” He looked at me blankly.

“What are you pursuing?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

I crossed my heart, leaving wet, soapy smears on my shipsuit.

He glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Trade.”

“What’s that mean? You’re going for cargo master?”

“Shh, keep it down. No, I’m running some smaller deals of my own.”

“You’re what?”

He looked over his shoulder at the door before continuing. “I’m picking up goods in one port and selling them at the next. Private cargo. Everybody’s allowed to do it. It’s in The Handbook, section fourteen. So long as you stay within your mass quota and don’t break any Confederation regulations, you can bring almost anything you want aboard including trade goods.”

I looked at him, dumbfounded.

“It’s true. You can look it up.”

“I believe you. It just never occurred to me.”

He grinned. “Almost everybody does it to some degree. I’m just a little more serious about it than most.”

“Then why the big secret?” He had me glancing over my shoulder as well.

He looked at me exasperated. “What do you think got me off on the wrong foot on the Duchamp?”

I shrugged. “I figured it was the scrubber incident.”

He shook his head. “No, that was just the set up. When they found out I was serious about private trading, they started making fun of me. They teased me because I kept bragging about making a killing with private trade with just a quarter share’s mass allotment. I think they figured if I was too green to know about pull out I must be clueless about trade as well. It didn’t take long before I was a laughing stock.” He stowed a tray under the counter. “The more I tried to explain, the worse it got.”

I stacked the last pot in the drying rack and rinsed out the deep sink. “Yeah, I guess I can see that.”

Pip looked miserable. “It made my life difficult. Somebody was always ragging on me about what I had for trade goods and laughing at the things I brought aboard.” He sighed and looked a bit sheepish. “It sounds pretty petty now, but it was miserable to live through.”

“So, you’re still trading, but you’re keeping it quiet.”

He nodded with a little shrug.

We finished the clean up, and I went to prep for more coffee. I called back over my shoulder as I measured grounds into the filter.

“So, how’s it working out?”

He grinned wolfishly. “Well, I’ve only made a few hundred creds, but I haven’t lost any yet.”

“Did you pick up something on Neris?”

He looked at me like I was much stupider than I usually felt. “What do you think?”

“Come on, tell me.”

He lowered his voice. “Granapple brandy.”

“What?” I tried not to laugh. I didn’t want to be like those on the Duchamp but granapple brandy wasn’t exactly a luxury good.

“Grishom’s, thirty-years-old and aged in the cask. I have four, one-liter bottles.”

I practically choked. “But that’s a hundred creds a bottle,” I said in shock.

He nodded.

I just stared at him but then I made the connection. “That’s why you weren’t on liberty when I came aboard?”

He nodded again. “It took all my creds to buy them. I made one trip down when we made port to pick them up from my Aunt Annie. She’d found and held them for me.”

“Aunt Annie?”

“Anne O’Rourke. She’s the Union Hall Manager. You met her, didn’t you?”

“Small galaxy…hey, wait. How’d you get them under your mass limit? You must have almost nothing on board.”

He laughed. “Probably more than you. Four liters is only a bit over four kilos. Even with the glass bottles and presentation cases, it was under eight. How much mass did you bring up?”

He was right. “Less than ten kilos.”

I realized I could have done the same thing, except I didn’t know anything about private trading and didn’t have four hundred creds to spare.

“What will they bring you on Darbat?” I found the whole thing fascinating.

He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. It depends on the market. Last one sold there went for two hundred creds, but a lot could have changed between now and then. I have a restaurant connection. He’ll give me a hundred and a quarter a piece. That’s my fallback.”

“Nice margin.”

Pip gave a self-depreciating shrug. “I doubled my money going into Neris.”

“Wow! Really? What’d you carry?”

“Computer memory chips.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Is there that much market for them?”

“You wouldn’t think so, but yeah. I was able to buy a case back on Gugara for almost nothing. Neris Company controls all the cargo coming into the stores there and they apply a hefty tariff. It means company people pay much higher prices there than anywhere else. It really makes it hard to live there and difficult to save enough to buy a ticket off-planet.”

“I noticed.”

“It also means that a case of memory chips, without the tariff, can be turned around with a pretty good margin. It’s lightweight, high demand, and practically liquid.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“I’m from a trader family. It’s in my blood.” He grinned.

“You’re full of surprises tonight.” I raised an eye brow at him. “But what’s a trader family?”

“Well, Aunt Annie has been a trader for going on forty stanyers. She’s been taking a little down time at the