Pip started, “You two should go and take your belts. I can send the other crew up to find you later. Sell as many as you want and I’ll take the big bundle up tomorrow. Bev, you have dibs, so I won’t put mine out until you’re done selling, okay?”
She grinned. “I’m only planning on taking four of the eight. If we do this on St. Cloud, too, we’ll probably make a killing, and I want to have at least half of my belts available for that.”
Pip sipped his coffee while he considered. “You’re going to take yours up, aren’t you, Ish?”
“Yeah, at the moment it’s all I have to sell and I’d like to get something out there. I’ll take the eight I bought with Bev. It won’t matter if I sell them all, because we have that whole bundle. The big question is how much to charge?”
Bev finished her omelet and pushed the tray back. “I was thinking thirty creds. That’s more than double what we paid for them.”
Pip shook his head. “If it were me, I’d start at fifty and let ’em talk me down to thirty. These are top shelf goods. The leather is amazing and the tool work is exceptional. The rock jockeys and metal munchers will have money to spare and if you don’t take it from them, they’ll just drink it away instead.”
Bev smiled. “Point taken. We’ll see what the market will bear and that’ll help you move the large bundle later.”
Pip nodded and it seemed like a logical plan to me.
I looked back and forth between the two of them. “Do you think any of the crew will come to sell in the booth?”
Bev nodded vigorously. “They will, but maybe not until they see how it works out.”
Pip lifted his chin to get our attention. “I have one more question. How do we reimburse the ship?”
Bev and I looked at each other and then back at him. “Reimburse the ship?”
He nodded. “If Ish and I had taken this on, we’d have just absorbed the cost in the day’s business, but this is ship’s business. We can’t expect the rest of the crew to absorb the expense, can we?”
Bev snorted. “We only need to cover ten creds a day, right?”
“Something like that.” Pip shrugged. “The captain paid out forty creds for the rental.”
“No table,” I pointed out. “I wonder if I can add that at the office this morning.”
“How much is one?” Bev asked.
“A cred a day.”
“Whoa, can you afford it, big spender?”
Pip grinned. “I think that’s the answer. Ish, you and I were going to cover this expense when we asked Mr. Maxwell so why don’t we just do it.”
“Do you need me to chip in?” Bev asked.
I shook my head. “No, we’ve got this. After all, you’re only selling a few belts and we have that big bundle. We should make more than enough to cover it.”
“Okay, well if you want me to, just let me know.”
“Gimme twenty now and I’ll add twenty and reimburse the ship while you’re out setting up,” Pip said before getting up to start another pot of coffee.
I pulled out my tablet and transferred the credits. “Done.” While I was in my account I noted that I’d been paid again and that I was building up a respectable balance, even after having paid out the two hundred back on Gugara.
Bev stood up and grabbed her dirty dishes. “Okay, I need to get into some civvies and go get seriously commercial for a bit.” She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Wanna join me?”
We all laughed and started moving. We took the dishes to the galley and Bev and I headed to the berthing area to change while Pip returned to morning mess duty. As I slipped on my jacket, I couldn’t help but remember that leather coat with the black silk lining on Gugara. I half wished I’d gotten it but the mass would have chewed into my trading. It only took a few ticks to change clothes and we headed for the lock with our belts in a duffel bag.
At the lock, Rhon Scham had the bow watch and gave us a bundle of blue cloth. “Compliments of the captain.” She told us. We had no idea what it was, so we unfolded it. It turned out to be a banner, about two meters long, with shiny letters sewn onto it. When we got it fully stretched out, we could see that the silvery material spelled McKendrick Mercantile Cooperative.
“From the captain?” I ask Rhon.
“That’s what the note says. She dropped it off just before midwatch last night.”
Beverly examined the fabric. “This is ancient. This banner has to be…maybe fifty years old.”
Rhon and I both shrugged.
“What’s the McKendrick Mercantile Cooperative?” I looked back and forth between them.
Bev shrugged. “I don’t know, but I bet there’s a good story behind this. Come on, we’re gonna be late.”
We refolded the banner and carefully tucked it in the duffel with the belts. Rhon keyed the lock and we bolted for the lift and headed up to the flea market office to check in.
The flea market manager seemed a nice enough guy. I suppose you have to be to coordinate the circus that constituted a major orbital flea market. He didn’t even appear terribly intimidated by Beverly. He wore a bright green vest that clashed terribly with everything else he had on, which probably was the point. He certainly stood out in the crowd. Across the back it said, “Margary Flea” in big yellow letters and on the left breast it said, “Fergus, Manager.” He was happy to rent me a table for the four days and let me pick the one I wanted out of a battered collection stacked up in the storage area.
“You just bring it back tonight and it’ll be safe until tomorrow.” He handed me a plastic coated badge with all the pertinent information: dates, rates, services, along with a big four seventy-eight on its face. “Just clip this to the drape at the back of your booth so that security knows you’re registered and take it with you when you leave for the night. There’s a magtag in it that will open the doors when you want to come back in the morning. It’s good for the full four days. After 17:00 on the last day it expires. You can just toss it. Your booth is over that way about forty meters. Just follow the signs painted on the deck. Good luck with your sales.”
Bev and I thanked him and headed off in the indicated direction to find our space. We had half a stan before the doors opened and let the public in. We joined the steady parade of merchants and the flea market felt like it was coming to life after a long night’s sleep, which in truth, I suppose it was.
It took us five ticks to find the place but no time at all to set up. The table was a pull-the-legs-and-lock type, so it was easy. We pulled out the banner and debated where to put it. A pipe-scaffold ran along the back of the space with a drape on it. If we’d had some wire or string, we could have hung it up there. Some pins would have let us attach it to the drape, but, of course, we had none of them. Ultimately, we just laid it out like a tablecloth and put a selection of the belts for sale on it. We stashed the empty duffel under the table. The display looked completely amateurish, even to me.
Bev and I looked at each other.
I shrugged. “We’re really not prepared, are we?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really.” She grinned at my hang-dog look. “But it’ll come. Live and learn, I always say.”
More vendors filed in and set up around us. Across the aisle was a potter, a youngish looking guy with sandy hair and an artificial foot. He slid a grav-pallet into his space, all set up with his displays. He just locked it down and was ready for business. Looking around, I saw that the grav-pallet seemed to be the standard as there was a procession of them winding in from the lifts.
Bev and I looked at each other. “If this catches on…” we started to say at the same time and laughed.
An obviously married older couple trundled up to the booth beside us and began unloading a simple cargo tote. The woman-a mousy, gray-haired matron in boots, a pair of jeans, a checked shirt, and a vest-began directing the man. He was nearly bald and wore a utility jumpsuit. Her voice carried over the rising noise level as she bossed him around.
“Not there, Virgil, I need that here.” Her smooth alto carried a whip-crack undertone that made me instantly feel sorry for him.
“Come on, Virgil, the floor will be open soon and I need this set up now!”
She continued along this vein for quite some time. Poor Virgil had apparently done this chore many times but he just couldn’t seem to do it to her satisfaction. They unpacked signs, display racks, and other paraphernalia from