Mr. Cotton was a smallish man with huge shoulders, arms that looked as big around as my waist, no hair and a nose that looked like he’d run into a cargo container several times. He grinned. “Good. Mr. Carstairs, you will come with me please and we will commence, ya.”
Pip cast one last look at me as he followed Mr. Cotton out. I gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.
Mr. von Ickles cleared his throat. “If you’re ready, Mr. Wang…?”
“Oh sorry, sar. Yes, sar. And thank you, sar.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Ish. He still has to pass.” He spoke quietly and sat me down with a tablet and stylus. “And so do you.” He proceeded to give me the same instructions as the previous exam and as he did, my brain slipped into its hyper-test mode.
This test was actually a lot harder than I expected. The materials were largely the same as in
“Nicely done, Mr. Wang.” He pulled up the scoring display to show a perfect score.
“This wasn’t as easy as I was led to believe.”
He nodded and grinned. “Several people have said that.”
“Pip’s not back?”
Mr. von Ickles just shook his head. “No, I don’t expect him for a bit yet. But you’re free to go. I’ll update your jacket this afternoon.”
“Thanks again, sar-whatever happens.”
He nodded and patted me on the shoulder. “You’re a good shipmate, Mr. Wang. Don’t worry. I think you’ll be surprised by what Mr. Cotton and Mr. Carstairs are up to.”
I headed back to the galley and helped Cookie get lunch going. It was almost a full stan later when Pip showed up, looking a bit bedraggled, but optimistic. Unfortunately, it was almost time for lunch service by then and we didn’t get a chance to compare notes beyond a hurried, “How’d it go?”
I was surprised to learn that he wasn’t sure. “Mr. Cotton said he had to report to Mr. von Ickles before he would release the results. I don’t know.” He shrugged.
He wasn’t surprised to learn that I’d passed. “Brain boy,” he teased.
Whatever the outcome, testing was all over for another quarter and we got on with the business at hand. Lunch went off without a hitch, as always. Cookie had gone overboard with the dessert course. Apparently being alone in the galley all morning had inspired him to bake cakes. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was nervous for us. Suddenly, lunch and clean up were over and we all just stood there for a tick, looking at each other everybody carefully not saying, “Now what?” I half expected Mr. Maxwell to show up, but he didn’t.
Finally, Cookie broke the silence. “You’ve both worked very hard, and I’m proud of you, no matter how it turns out for Pip. As for you, young Ishmael, congratulations, and I’m confident you’ll be a credit to any department regardless of the ship.”
It hadn’t really sunk in that I’d actually passed two tests and that I was eligible to move up when a berth came available. I was so worried about Pip and the trading schemes that I hadn’t really thought about it. I felt rather dazed, truth be told. “I’m not going anywhere right away, Cookie.” I smiled at him.
He nodded and grinned back. “I know, but you’ve earned the ratings and that’s an accomplishment to be proud of.”
Pip just looked concerned.
When we headed out for the afternoon break, I asked again, “So? How’d it go?”
“I told you. I don’t know. Mr. Cotton didn’t say anything at the end. Just told me he’d be reporting to Mr. von Ickles and then dismissed me.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous.” I tried to sound convincing, but I’m not that good a liar. “What did you do? You were gone a long time.”
“Really? Just over two stans?”
I nodded. “I was done with my test in about half that time. Where were you?”
“Mr. Cotton took me out to the spine. We crawled in and out of containers. He kept asking me questions about this, that, and the other thing. I found one cargo strap that wasn’t secured properly. We pottered about down there for quite a while talking about tankage, which we don’t have much of here, and about the proper distribution of mass.”
“You got into tankage and mass distribution?”
Pip nodded. “He’s really easy to talk to. We talked about lots of stuff that wasn’t on the practice exams. Actually, now that I think of it, very few of the questions he asked seemed to be from the handler practices that we did.”
I chuckled. “As much trouble as you were having with those tests, I’d be surprised if you even knew what was in them.”
He grinned ruefully. “There’s that.”
“Well, we can make ourselves miserable waiting or we can go see Mr. von Ickles and ask. All he can say is no, right?”
Pip didn’t look terribly excited by the prospect but I dragged him down to the office. The door stood open and Mr. von Ickles sat at his desk tapping away on his tablet. He looked up as we entered.
“Gentlemen, how can I help you?”
Pip stepped forward. “Well, sar, I was wondering if Mr. Cotton had had a chance to talk to you yet, sar. About my test this morning?”
“Why, yes, Mr. Carstairs, he has.”
Mr. von Ickles waited one long tick without saying anything else and I wondered if Pip would faint.
Finally, Pip started to speak, but had to stop and clear his throat. “Please tell me, Mr. von Ickles. How did I do?”
“I was just placing the notation in your jacket, Mr. Carstairs. Congratulations for passing the cargoman exam.”
Pip gaped. “Thank you, sar. But, sar? I…um…you mean cargo handler, don’t you?”
Mr. von Ickles made a great show of being confused but I could see the edges of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. “Well, let me double check. I have the report from Mr. Cotton here someplace.” He muttered that last as if to himself but loud enough that we could both hear clearly.
Pip shot me a worried glance but I carefully kept my face blank.
Finally, Mr. von Ickles found what he was looking for and pulled up a report on the screen. “Yes, here it is. Oh, you’re right. You were testing for cargo handler, weren’t you?”
Pip nodded. “Yes, sar.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Carstairs.” Mr. von Ickles consulted the report again and I could feel Pip collapsing inside. “You seem to have skipped handler altogether and gone straight to cargoman. Mr. Cotton was quite explicit and very enthusiastic about your qualifications.” He turned to Pip with a huge smile on his face. “Congratulations on your new rating, Mr. Carstairs. You seem to have qualified as cargoman.”
I yelped and started pounding him on the back, laughing and shaking his hand. Mr. von Ickles held out his as well and Pip shook it dazedly. “But-”
“It’s true.” Mr. von Ickles smiled at him. “Sure, it’s most common for ratings to work up from quarter, to half, to full share, but the reality is that you can try for any rating any time you think you can pass it. You don’t have to take them in order. If you can pass the test, you can have the rating.”
“And I passed?” he asked again, still dazed.
Mr. von Ickles chuckled. “Passed? You got full marks.” He turned the screen so we could see. “Mr. Cotton is not an easy man to please, either, I can assure you. If he says you’re rated as cargoman, I am not going to argue.”
Behind us, I heard Mr. Maxwell’s too familiar voice. “And neither am I.”
We turned to see him leaning against the doorframe. “Nicely done, Mr. Carstairs. And thank you, Mr. Wang, well done.”
“Thank you, sar,” Pip and I spoke more or less in unison.
“Now, don’t you gentlemen have anything better to do than clutter up the ship’s office?”
