The Escolta had been built to carry troops and supplies. To accommodate the shifting needs, there were few permanent internal walls on each deck. But the diameter was the deceptive difference. While only slightly longer, at well over twice the diameter, the internal space on it was nearer five-hundred square meters on each deck instead of seventy like the other ships.
The five hundred could be configured in multiple ways to meet their needs, and of course, the ship could easily carry six times as much volume. That meant my new ship could carry far larger loads if they were not too heavy.
Mass equals increased fuel. Or more easily put, it cost more to haul heavy stuff. Not that Escolta couldn’t do it. She could for the right price, as Fang put it.
Those thoughts pounded my head as I looked at my future home. The smile was hurting my cheeks and I realized nobody on the shuttle was talking. I glanced at Lila and found her eyes locked on the view screen. Behind, Bill wore the same silly grin as I did.
Other shuttles floated out there. Some were under power. I looked behind and found the Dreamer alone against the blackness of space awaiting the owners, new Comm Officer, and Captain. They would probably sign on a new steward to replace Lila.
Thinking of her seemed to trigger her to talk. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I told her about it being a troop transport with newer engines, and a few other facts I’d gathered. The view slowly shifted as we neared the Hab. We were not being taken directly to the Escolta, but to a commercial shuttle bay. It occurred to me that if I owned a ship, I wouldn’t want a shuttle operated by strangers bumping into my ship. I’d want my shuttle and my pilots scooting around my ship.
Docking was gentle and anticlimactic. The shuttle hatch opened.
Captain Stone said, “I have a few instructions. Your wrist-comps have Escolta’s address and you will find adequate credit balances have been added to your accounts. Do not carry your purchases. There will be too many. Pay to have them delivered.”
She was smiling.
Nobody got up to leave the shuttle.
She said, “Pay attention. I’ve set a timer on your wrist-comps. Please understand that you may not have the opportunity to shop for personal items again, soon. Just so we are clear, each of you will purchase at least five sets of overalls to wear daily for work, along with comfortable shoes. Your wrist-coms hold the information. Give the order to any chandler where you shop.”
She paused and looked at each of us. “You will also order the dress uniforms on your wrist-comps. Then you will shop for casual clothing, at least ten outfits for each of you. No need to buy food except for Bert and Fang. You buy what you want. Are there any questions?”
There were none.
Oddly, Bert waddled out first and Fang hopped right behind. They had bonded and were now a pair. Bill came to my side and I couldn’t be rude and leave Lila on her own. “Bill, Lila will come with us.”
A spark of interest flashed in his eyes.
She said, “I can shop on my own.”
Bill stepped between her and me, his eyes on hers. He said, “No, we will be happy if you join us.”
His back was to me, almost pushing me away. When he turned to the hatch, he again found a way to insert himself between us, but his attention was on her. I started to fume.
The terminal was cluttered, loud, and busy. Hawkers shouted their services offered, like any bazaar on Roma. Beings of different races vied for our attention. Whatever we wished they could provide, or so they told us. Again, it was not much different from the entertainment district of Roma. We silently pushed our way through, me in the lead, my left wrist held high enough to follow the simple map displayed to the shopping area.
As the captain had told us, I pulled up the location of a chandlery, which turned out to be a store that sold anything related to a ship. We strode down a small passageway wide enough for two in either direction to pass. Bill and Lila walked behind while I led the way. That was not the way I’d planned it but that’s how it worked out. They seemed together no matter what.
Inside the chandlery stood a Whippet, which was a tall, thin, being from a low gravity world. It met us and after introductions, took our orders from our wrist-comps and used a sizing machine that measured us through our clothing to ensure a perfect fit. We thumbed the payment request, a number that had me gulping in awe and thinking Captain Stone might murder me for the purchase.
Each of the outfits cost more than Bill and I had won betting on the captain to win at the coliseum, which had been the most credits either of us had ever owned at one time. And there were many uniforms for each of us to buy.
I wanted to discuss it with Bill, but he was still ignoring me.
The Whippet gave us directions to several clothing stores where they sold quality at reasonable prices. She assured us our uniform purchases would be waiting at the Escolta when we got there.
A glance at my wrist told me we had plenty of time. The chandlery was in the industrial section near where the ships were docked, along with bars and gambling houses. We entered a new section of
