Chapter Twenty-One
The cargo arrived on time, delivered on wide flat trucks with faux wooden wheels that concealed the more durable modern rubber tires. I had seen them in action a few times already. The companies of Pegillas had very few robots in comparison to human worlds and stations. Watching a dozen chimpanzees scurrying around loosening straps and moving blocks was entertaining. The hoot and hollering every time a crate shifted unexpectedly was quite comical, too.
Portia had both of her loaders ready, but the delivery foreman insisted that she wait for the final count before moving anything. I would say that her patience was enviable if it weren't for her inability to get agitated. She stood there silently viewing each truck as it arrived. Recording everything, keeping a perfect count during the progress.
Once the numbers were verified she got the loaders working in perfect tandem. Lin was at my side as I requested random cubes to be opened for my inspection. The foreman complied but demonstrated his fluency in human profanity during the process.
The whole ordeal lasted less than two hours and sufficiently took my mind off of my problems. Some of the Peggy workers lingered to gaze at Portia and Lin as they moved around the loading dock. The interspecies sexual attraction apparently went both ways. I wondered if human women paid for sex with these aliens that resembled monkeys. If they all were hung deficiently like the waitress's brother, I couldn't imagine it being much of a thrill. But then again, there was more than one way to service a human female sexually.
I was glad that the Peggies were much more civilized than real monkeys. I remembered chimpanzees at the zoo shitting in their own hand and then throwing it at people. That would be a huge hospitality issue, much worse than finding hair in your food. Which we did once, by the way. However, very few of this species had longer hair on their head than the rest of their bodies. So most detached hairs that gathered in corners were only a centimeter long.
I finally went back inside with Lin while there were still a dozen cannisters left on the dock to be loaded. Examining the main cargo bay I found it nearly full, but perfectly organized. There would be an aisle down the middle wide enough for the loaders. Then another gap crosswise to allow access to the side compartments, which weren't yet needed.
Our interstellar trade circle was fairly simple when it came to standard goods. We'd take metal from Pegillas to Teegarden. Refined construction goods from Teegarden to Vega. Food from Vega to Andromedas. Then weapons from Andromedas to Pegillas. Though the specific load would vary each run, the basic circle of cargo was anticipated to remain the same.
Contraband would be a little different. What the black market wanted at Andromedas might not be available at Vega. Thinking back to the list that was provided to me, I doubted that half of it would be. Cadavers, for example, might be easier to come by here on Pegillas. That would mean that we'd have to keep them hidden in one of the side holds for a couple weeks until they reached their destination. Not exactly what I signed up for, but I knew there would be risk in our business. Plith's company didn't completely play by the rules. I just didn't know that dead bodies would be involved. At least they came in freezer cubes that matched the rest of our cargo. It wasn’t like I’d be carrying around fresh corpses by hand.
"I should have lined up a seller for cadavers while I was here," I muttered to the girls as we began prepping the ship for launch.
"The way they talk about people getting killed on this planet," Nancy responded. "You could go back to the badlands of TruPort and collect your own."
"I don't think the buyer on Andromedas station is looking for half eaten bloody corpses," Lin said.
That was probably true. The side business of this job might be challenging until I get my contacts established.
Portia's voice then came through the speaker. "Captain, the cargo is loaded but we are still waiting on two crates of food for our processors. They are being delivered by a different company, as you know. The shipment is currently seventeen minutes behind schedule. Would you like me to raise a fuss?"
"Raise a fuss?" both my wives asked at the same time.
"She's working on her vocabulary to try to fit in better," I explained. Then in reply to Portia, "Don't make a fuss, but you can check on it. If they aren't here by launch time, we'll leave them behind and get a refund. Do we have enough food for the galley to last us?"
"Yes, captain. There is plenty to eat though some items will likely become out of stock by the time we reach Teegarden based on current eating habits."
"That's fine."
"The problem, captain," Portia replied. "Is that we won't receive our launch time until our hatch is closed. The Dock Marshall is insistent on that rule."
"Okay," I revised my decision. "Give that company thirty minutes, then cancel the order if needed. Anything else?"
"I have pre-launch checks in the engine room to do," she answered through the speaker. I assumed that she was still outside. "Shall I work on those while I wait for the food delivery?"
"That's cool," I told her. "Just update me on the response from the food company when you get it."
"Aye aye, captain," Portia said. The three of us in the control room chuckled.
"Is she a pirate now?" Nancy asked.
"She might as well be," Lin answered. "We'll all be smugglers by the next time we visit this planet."
That was true. But we
