us an idea whether or not it’s even possible. If it’s too expensive, we won’t do it. But since we’re not going to be in port all that long we’re trying to line up people before we hit the station. We’ll give it a shot, assuming we can swing the price and we have enough stuff to put out.”
We ran another whole lap while she thought about it. “That’s a really intriguing idea, Ish. I’ve got a few things I’d be interested in moving. Let me know if it goes forward, okay?”
I nodded and we finished our laps together.
The next afternoon we docked at Margary Station. Pip looked up the terms and conditions on the flea market. They charged ten creds a day for space rental and an extra cred if you wanted a table. They charged a one-day minimum fee. We looked at the tablet for a long time. Pip finally shook his head a muttered loud enough for me to hear, “It’s too good. There has to be a catch.”
I shrugged. “Well, I know who we can ask.”
Pip looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Mr. Maxwell.”
His eyes got big for a tick, but he nodded his agreement and we went in search of the first mate.
We found him in the ship’s office, where he spent most of his port time. We knocked and went in.
Mr. Maxwell just sat observing us for a tick. “How can I help you gentlemen this fine day?”
Pip looked at me as if to say,
I took a deep breath and then rattled off the plan. I finished with the question we needed answered. “So what are we overlooking? Is there some hidden cost? Or some rule against crew renting tables?”
Mr. Maxwell pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. I braced myself because I was pretty sure he was thinking really hard, or considering just how to kill me. Either way, I wanted to keep a low profile. “Just so I understand this, Mr. Wang. You’re proposing to rent a booth at the flea market so that the crew members who have private trades have a place to sell their goods retail?”
“Yes, sar, that’s the basic idea.”
“Who’s going to work the booth?”
“We’ll need a couple volunteers from each watch section. Pip and I, of course, but I don’t have any others yet because we’re still trying to figure out if we can do it.”
Mr. Maxwell swiveled his gaze to Pip. “You’re in on this?”
“Yes, sar. Mr. Wang and I, being on opposite watches agreed that we can cover the booth so that it can stay open every day we’re in port.”
“Are you telling me you’re giving up liberty so that your crewmates have a place to make private trades?”
We both gulped. I shot a glance at Pip out of the corner of my eye before answering, “Yes, sar.”
“Well, sar, it’s only during business hours so it’s not like we’re giving up all our liberty,” Pip added. “The flea market isn’t open in the evening.”
I thought Mr. Maxwell smiled at that, but it disappeared too fast for me to be sure.
He let us stew in our own juices for about two solid ticks before answering, “Gentlemen, I have some good news and some bad news.” Pip and I shot a glance to each other before Mr. Maxwell went on, “The crew is prohibited from engaging in any activity which might be considered competing with the trading mission of the ship. That’s the bad news. The good news is that the ship is under no such restriction.”
I was having trouble untangling that statement but Pip grinned.
Mr. Maxwell continued, “We frequently rent offices, warehouses, and other port-side facilities when they are required for legitimate ship’s business. The captain and I have been struggling with how to keep the crew safe without restricting their enthusiasm for private trading ever since Darbat. You two seem to have hit upon a solution so obvious that we never would have thought of it. Let me run this idea past her and get back to you. I suspect you’ll be able to set up shop tomorrow, but I’ll let you know later this evening.”
Pip spoke while I was still untangling my tongue. “Yes, sar, thank you, sar.”
Mr. Maxwell nodded. “You’re welcome. Dismissed.”
We took the hint and headed back to the galley to start the evening meal. First night of liberty or not, neither of us wanted to leave the ship until we got the idea fully hashed out. As we expected, almost nobody came to the mess deck for dinner. We served the few watch standers left aboard and waited.
Near the end of dinner, a message from the captain pinged into our tablets simultaneously. It confirmed that the ship had rented booth four seventy-eight at Margary Station’s flea market for four standays beginning at 08:00 the next day. She instructed us to pick up our authorization certificate from the market office no later than 07:30 under the name of McKendrick Mercantile Cooperative.
Pip looked at me across the mess table. “Okay, I’ll take the duty tomorrow. You get it set up.”
“Me? You’re the trading genius.”
He grinned at me. “Your idea, so you have to do it.”
I shook my head slowly. This trip just got stranger and stranger. I left Pip with clean up duty and went in search of people to help me in the morning.
My first stop was the berthing area where I found Bev coming off watch and getting ready for liberty. “The captain approved the flea market.”
She turned wide-eyed in my direction. “Wha-? How’d the captain get involved?”
“Pip and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any conflict so we went to Mr. Maxwell. As it turns out, only the ship can officially rent the space but can do it for the benefit of the crew. The only catch was he had to run it by the captain. We just got the confirmation a few ticks ago. They rented space in the name of McKendrick Mercantile Cooperative and anybody in the crew with trade goods will be free to use the space to sell their stuff.”
“Sounds great. Will it be expensive?”
“That’s the best part, the rental is only ten creds a day and it’s a simple pay-as-you go plan.”
Bev grinned. “I’ll be switched. You actually did it.”
“Yup. Only problem is that Pip has the duty tomorrow and I’m a little nervous about setting up by myself.”
“I’m off tomorrow. I’ll help ya. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to check out the other booths.” She grinned wolfishly. “Might find something else to spend my money on.”
Relief washed over me. “Thanks, Bev. I really mean it.”
“No worries. Besides.” She paused and gave me a wink. “I can’t have my boy toy wandering around unprotected now, can I?”
“Well, with Big Bad Beverly watching my back, there’s nothing I’m gonna be worried about.”
We both grinned and got on with our evening plans.
I found Sandy Belterson on the track and learned that Brill was off the ship already, but would be returning in the morning. I went down to the environmental section and found Francis and Diane on duty and filled them in on the plan. They each had some trade goods and were excited to join in. I asked them to pass the word and went back to my bunk to rack out.
When the watch stander came for Pip the next morning, Beverly and I got up too. We put on shipsuits and headed to the galley for breakfast and to talk things over.
I made the coffee while Pip set up Cookie’s omelet station. Bev accepted the first cup from the pot and let Pip practice his omelet skills on her while Cookie finished putting up the bread. In port mess duty seemed so laid back by this time that I found it ridiculous I had ever considered it difficult. The three of us had become a well-integrated machine, each doing the required tasks without the least interference from either of the others. Any one of us could probably have handled the breakfast alone, but Cookie spent his time preparing his signature breads, pastries, and desserts that were his pride and joy.
After the few crew members were served, Pip, Bev, and I gathered at a table to talk about how to proceed.
