“But it won't be with us,” the captain replied. “And the shipping community is small and tight-knit. Don't be too sure of your options.” She pulled her vest pocket open and rummaged for a moment, producing two coins. “Here is the balance of your fare.” She threw the coins to the ground at Snidely's feet.
I’ll give Snidely credit, he ignored the coins. He also dealt her a glare that made her previous salvo look like a love fest. If people had started shooting lightning bolts from their eyes, it wouldn't have surprised me. The coins rolled a short distance and a couple of spectators pounced on them. The sergeant gave Captain Lisa a look that might've been sympathy, then turned back to me and gestured again to the plank.
We passed Ted on his way back, carrying Snidely's trunk. A brief glance assured me that he hadn't gotten the wrong one. The tarp had been stripped back and left off. I pulled my trunk from the pile, placed it flat and unlocked it. The cop reached forward and open the lid to reveal… stuff. A folded vest, some small tools, several books, a miniature ceramic figure, and a diary and writing implements. He pushed a few items around, frowned, then frowned at me.
“This is just common goods. Why did you not to show him this?”
“Would you have if a fat pompous ass demanded it of you?”
The cop snorted. “No, not likely. I think Mr. Whiplash is going to have some explaining to do. Wasting the constabulary's time is not without consequence. My apologies for the trouble.”
I smiled and nodded, and the cops marched back to the dock. I imagined a sharp and hopefully not short conversation in Snidely's future. I glanced at the shipping container that currently held Bender's matrix instead of these random items. I’d have to swap things back tonight, as that particular container was destined for the next stop.
“What a putz,” Ted said. I grinned and pushed the fish bowl toward him. “Yeah, but did you see the look on his face as they marched them up the dock? I think he's going to have an interesting afternoon.”
Teresa accepted a fillet from Belinda and chewed thoughtfully on it for a few seconds. “Sadly, he will probably have many children.”
We all chuckled. Harvey, our new deckhand, said “It sounds like I missed an interesting time. I've had to deal with obnoxious passengers before. Never fun.”
Teresa turned to me. “So, Enochi. Tell me more about utilitarianism.”
There were groans from the others. It turned out that dislike for moral philosophy transcended species.
Freda was holding the night watch again. That helped, as I'd spent time last night working out her routine. Now, I had to switch back the contents of my trunk and the shipping container, but you know, night vision. I had both containers open and had moved the miscellaneous items back into the shipping box. I held up Bender's matrix and was about to place it carefully and the organics that formed my trunks patting, when a voice behind me said, “That's very pretty, what is it?”
I whirled, almost fumbling the matrix, to find Teresa smiling at me.
“It is about the size of a funerary box, and since you took steps to hide it, I have to assume some level of guilt, if that's the right word.”
Well this was just peachy beyond belief. What I have to kill Teresa? Could I even do that? What were my alternatives?
“You’re not from around here, are you Enochi?”
“None of us are, Teresa.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean. You're not a native Quinlan. At least, not a resident of Heaven's River, like the rest of us. Are you even a Quinlan at all?”
“What an odd question. What else would I be?”
“Well, you’d would be someone who knows about things like utilitarianism, and closest continuous which I'd never heard of. But not about the Three Rules, which every child learns. And you're someone who thinks the gravity in Heaven's River is 0.86 g instead of 1 g. Where are you from, that the gravity is 1.16 g?”
Oh bugger. I remembered that conversation. I'd assume the translator would convert my statement, but apparently not. Well that was just a huge steaming smelly pile of…
“I think you're reading too much into an unconnected series of conversations, Teresa.”
“That would be a reasonable proposal. Except for the thing in your hands. It appears to be metal. If it is, it’s enough metal to buy the entire segment. But you're working as a deckhand. One of these things is not like the other. Know what I mean?” She smiled at the last sentence.
“Uh…”
Teresa rolled her eyes. “You’re usually a bit more articulate than that, Enochi. Do you need a slap?”
I chortled. “No, thanks teach. So what are you going to do?”
“If I tried to call you out, would I survive?”
I closed my eyes briefly. “That would be the most effective way of dealing with the problem, and from a strictly utilitarian point of view, it might even pass muster. But no, I work that way. I’d just run. And I'd have to take a chance on getting this wet.” I held up the matrix to illustrate.
“So, you are the person they're looking for.”
“I'm pretty sure. There’s always the possibility of coincidence, but I'm going to guess that's unlikely, and even if that turned out to be the case, I'd still end up in the pokey until they straightened it all out.”
“What are you guilty of?”
“Trying to rescue a friend. Seriously Teresa, that's all I'm doing.”
She nodded. “I believe you. I may be biased, but I don't see someone being able to understand moral philosophy without being guided by it. Besides: you’re very interesting to talk to.”
I laughed softly and muttered, “Dance, monkey, dance.”
“What?”
“Oh. Uh, it's an ironic statement where I'm from. It means I have to continue to be entertaining in order to preserve my
