for you.”
Pip smirked. “Oh, I think we’ll convince her.”
Diane looked doubtful. “Well, if we do this, we’ll need creds for expenses: booth rental, chairs, signs, cargo totes-”
“Grav-pallet?” I suggested.
Her face lit up at the thought. “Ooh, that would be excellent, but maybe a bit of a stretch all things considered.”
I nodded. “True, but we’re on the right track. I’m willing to toss a few creds in the pot as seed money, but how do we replenish the pot?”
Diane ate some more of her omelet while she considered. Finally she nodded once as if she’d made up her mind. “Okay, I see three ways: dues, buy in, or fees.”
I grimaced. “I thought of dues, but that’s a problem because it limits who can participate. If you don’t pay your dues then you can’t sell, but if you want to drop out halfway through the period, how can we give a refund?”
Pip nodded his head in agreement. “How would the buy in idea work? You pay a fee to set up in the booth at the next port?”
Diane nodded.
“Down side is that you have to pay before you have the income. If you don’t sell anything it would be tough,” Pip said.
We sat there looking at each other for a couple of ticks. Finally, I broke the silence. “It sounds like we go with fees then. How are you thinking this would work?”
Diane gestured with her fork. “If you sell in the booth you should pay some nominal amount. Like one percent. We could cap it at some amount, say ten creds, and the trader would pay whichever is smaller. That way somebody who doesn’t sell a lot can still get in. People who sell more won’t get smacked to hard.”
Pip nodded slowly. “Rental here in Margary is ten a day, the table cost an extra cred. With that arrangement just one person would cover that easily.”
Diane pointed out the obvious. “If we’d been operating under that rule during this past exercise, all four of us would have paid ten creds for that first day.”
I shook my head. “No, ten creds is one percent of a thousand. Bev and I only made about a hundred each, but that big bundle of belts would have covered it easily.”
Diane shrugged. “Well, I made almost a kilocred on all my stuff, so I’d have made up the difference.”
Pip nodded his agreement. “And yesterday, Rhon Scham, Biddy Murphy, and I would have also.”
Diane looked back and forth between us. “That seems fair to me. I’d gladly have kicked in ten creds for what I got out of it.”
Francis came in looking for breakfast so Pip went to get him an omelet.
“Thanks, Diane. That was kinda what I was thinking, but you really solidified it for me.”
She speared the last bite of her omelet. “My pleasure, Ish. Count me in on whatever you’ve got going forward, okay?”
I nodded and paused for a moment. “Hey, do you know anything about mushroom farming?”
“Huh?” She blinked at me for a few heartbeats and a wry smile twisted her lips. “Do you know what the phrase smooth change of subject means?”
I laughed. “Sorry, my brain is hopping around this morning. Did you know that Margary is the mushroom capital of the galaxy or something?”
“You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “They have plenty of dark tunnels here to grow them in. I thought I’d try to find out more about what it takes besides dark and space. It has got to take some kind of growing medium, but what do they have out here in the Deep Dark?”
She looked me straight in the eye and grinned at the realization. “Sludge.”
“That’s my thought, too. Fancy a little exploration?”
“Ten minutes. Main lock.”
“I’ll be there.”
I waved at Pip and Francis as I bussed my tray and headed to change into my civvies.
Fifteen minutes later, Diane and I were standing on the docks. She gave a half shrug. “So, how do we find a mushroom farm?”
“Look for someplace dark?”
“That’s most places here, I would think.”
I smacked myself on the forehead. “I’m so stupid,” I said as I grabbed my tablet and pulled up the ship’s stores records. The invoice for what looked like a huge amount of mushrooms was on file along with the name of the supplier and their information. Their office was on deck twelve and there was a contact number.
Diane smiled when she saw what I was doing. “Hmm, there’s a comm-link right over there. Think we can get an appointment?”
“All they can say is no.”
We crossed the deck and I keyed the contact number from the invoice. “Margary Mushrooms, Helen speaking. How can I help you?” The woman answered on the first ring. She looked like a typical front door greeter on the screen.
“Hi. My name is Wang. I work in the galley on the freighter
“Yes, Mr. Wang, is there a problem?”
“No, they’re excellent, but my colleague and I are interested in how they’re grown out here in the Deep Dark. It must be fascinating. We were wondering if we could talk to someone about it?”
“Let me connect you with Mr. Cameron. He’s in charge of our field operations.”
A moment later a red, pudgy face filled the screen. “Cameron, here. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Cameron, My name is Wang and I’m from the freighter
“Well, Mr. Wang, we grow them in tunnels in the mined-out asteroids. Thank you for your interest.”
“Is there a chance we might visit one of these asteroids this morning?
“I’m really sorry, kid, but we’re terribly busy here, and I don’t know how we’d find the time…”
Diane, who had been off camera for the conversation, sighed and shook her head. She unbuttoned the top of her blouse and elbowed me out of the way. She practically cooed into the comm, “Mr. Cameron, is it? I’m Diane Ardele. We’re sorry to be such a bother but we’ll be leaving tomorrow and this is our last chance to come and see your excellent operation up close.” She leaned into the pickup so the breathy voice she used would carry clearly. “Don’t you think you could find some errand boy to take us on a tour of just one little mushroom farm?”
I thought he was going to turn purple as Diane idly stroked one finger up and down the edge of her collar. “Well, yes, that is, I think my next meeting was just canceled. Let me check. Yes, I’m free after all. I could take you, Ms. Ardele-”
“Oh, please call me Diane,” she interrupted, breathily.
“D-Diane, yes. I could take you over to see a farm. Oh, and Mr. Wang, too, of course. Could you meet me at lock forty-two on the dock level in say, twenty ticks?”
Diane squealed convincingly. “Ooh, that would be just
“Likewise Ms. Ardele…I mean D-Diane.”
“Toodles until then.” Diane waved her fingers in the direction of the pickup before cutting the connection.
I just stood there staring at her. “You know, you’re shameless.”
She gave me a smug little grin. “Yes, and thank you for noticing. The nice thing about cliches is that they only
