Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (39 page)

She checked her tablet. Lyons hadn’t checked in. He might have come aboard late—or drunk, she had to admit—and hadn’t seen the message. Not knowing where he was bugged her. Something just felt off. She leaned over the keyboard to kick off the spares replenishment compilation. It only took a few heartbeats. She noted that the total was only about a third of what it had been on the original. That should make the captain happy. She forwarded it to his box for approval before closing down the console.

On the long walk back down the spine, she zoned out—and blinked, standing in front of her stateroom door with no recollection of how she got there. She snorted and let herself in. When the door clicked shut, she stopped and flipped the deadbolt. Zoya had never been nervous about doors in the dorm. Given the shenanigans that had happened outside their room on a regular basis there, it said something that Pritchard bothered her.

She slipped off her top and went into the head to rinse off her face and hands. She tried to be quiet but as soon as she shut off the water, Zoya tapped on the door.

“You decent?”

Natalya opened the door and grinned. “After living with me for four stanyers? Now’s a hell of a time to ask.”

Zoya shrugged. She had bags under her eyes that looked like bruises. “I’ve been trying to find an audit trail on this glassed data all evening.”

“Anything?”

“Oddities but no smoking gun.”

“How odd?” Natalya asked.

“Well, Pritchard’s fingers have been all over it.”

“Not too surprising.”

Zoya squinted as if she had a headache. “If he were an engineer, not surprising at all.”

Natalya paused. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got him signing parts in and out of inventory. All kinds of parts.” Zoya gave her head a little shake. “I’m saying this badly.”

“If you’re as tired as I am, that you’re saying anything at all is a miracle.”

Zoya grinned and plopped down on her bunk. “Knowles and his crew in environmental. They signed out filters, spare parts, something called phen—phen something.”

“Phenol red.”

“That’s it.”

“Water-testing chemical,” Natalya said.

“Whatever. They sign stuff out. The database is full of them signing stuff out.”

“Sounds normal.”

“Nobody signed it in.”

Natalya leaned against the sink. “What do you mean, nobody signed it in?”

“I’ve got no receiving record against any of it. The parts are just there.”

“How far back did you go?”

“That’s the thing. The parts database doesn’t have any records before June first.”

Natalya blinked her eyes and stretched her face. “How is that possible?”

Zoya shook her head. “It shouldn’t be possible, but somebody cleared that database. Wiped everything older than that right out.”

“What about logs?”

“Navigation logs, stores logs, even tankage logs. All there on the main system. We didn’t copy those to glass but I went in and looked to see if the ship had been sanitized. It hasn’t. Records there go back stanyers.”

“Anything in the system logs about maintenance to the spares database?”

“I don’t even know when to look.”

Natalya sighed and shook her head. “Sleep. Nothing makes sense. Maybe fresh brains can find something in the morning.”

Zoya nodded. “Yeah. I’ve still got the OD watch, but I can’t keep my mind from spinning around chasing its tail.”

Natalya chuckled. “Yeah. I know the feeling. You didn’t hear Lyons come in, by any chance?”

Zoya shook her head. “I’ve had my head in the systems. He’d have had to come into my stateroom and shouted for me to notice. Sorry.”

“Not your problem. Just wondered.”

“What do you think happened to him?” Zoya asked.

“Call me naïve but I thought he’d found something beyond booze.” Natalya shrugged. “Having him out makes me think I was wrong.”

Zoya sighed and nodded. “Hang in. Sleep well. I’ve still got four stans to go but you can bet I’m crashing right after breakfast mess.” She swung the door closed on her side.

Natalya stared at herself in the mirror for a few heartbeats trying to figure out who was looking back at her.

With a snort, she clicked off the light and found her bunk.

Chapter 44
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2

Natalya met Zoya on the way to the wardroom. “I checked with the brow watch at 0530,” Zoya said. “Both Blanchard and Lyons were still ashore.”

“Isn’t Blanchard supposed to take the OD watch about now?”

Zoya nodded. “I’ve been on since 1800 yesterday so he better show up.”

They stepped into the wardroom to find both Captain Trask and Mr. Pritchard looking up at them from their meals. Trask’s face fell, but Pritchard looked oddly pleased with himself.

“Sorry we’re late,” Zoya said.

Trask shook his head. “You’re not late. We’re unfashionably early.” He lifted his coffee mug in salute. “I wanted coffee and being the captain? I generally get what I want.”

“Any word from our wayward colleagues?” Natalya asked, sliding into her place beside Pritchard.

Trask sighed and bit his lips together, shaking his head for a moment before replying. “No, and I’m officially worried. Charlie’s never missed a watch change as long as I’ve known him.”

“What about Mr. Lyons?” Natalya asked, helping herself to a short stack of the pancakes waiting on the platter. She pushed the platter in Zoya’s direction while the captain passed the syrup to Natalya.

“He’s a wild card,” Trask said. “Never known him to stay ashore longer than it took to …” His voice petered out.

Pritchard said, “Longer than it took to get drunk again and buy a case for the ride home.” He seemed to take inordinate pleasure in his pronouncement.

Natalya took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. The urge to slap the self-righteous smirk off the man’s face nearly overwhelmed her.

Zoya helped herself to pancakes and dug in. “Do you need me to keep the OD watch, Captain?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Log it over to me. I got a bit of sleep last night.” He glanced at her. “More than I can say for you.”

She smiled. “I had to make a couple circuits of the ship to stay awake, but I managed.”

“Well, we can’t undock without them,” Trask said. “I’ve notified station security to look for them both.”

“Because we need Mr. Blanchard to navigate?” Zoya asked.

“Because we don’t leave people behind, Ms. Usoko.”

A wash of red came up Zoya’s neck and spread over her ears. “Of course. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re barely awake. I’m surprised you’re sitting up and taking nourishment,” Trask said. His smile reached all the way to the creases at the corners of his eyes.

Zoya nodded and focused on her breakfast.

Pritchard scoffed. “All these rules and regulations. These High Liner ports are all the same.”

Trask looked at Pritchard. “That’s why you’re a Toe-Holder, isn’t it, Steven?”

“Well, yes.” Pritchard’s smirk disappeared like a soap bubble bursting. “Of course.”

Natalya glanced at Pritchard, who focused on cutting his pancakes into tiny pieces before lifting them with his fork. She wondered if he’d always been in Toe-Hold space. Something about the captain’s comment had soured Pritchard’s good mood, and the captain knew it.

Trask looked at Natalya. “You get any sleep last night? You’re looking almost as tired as Ms. Usoko here.”

“A bit. Had things buttoned up by 0230. There’s a new order in your inbox.”

Trask glanced at Pritchard, whose attention seemed to be riveted on shredding a pancake. “See me after breakfast and we’ll go over it, if you would?”

Natalya nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Trask chuckled and tilted his coffee cup up. “Mr. Bray?” he said.

Bray stuck his head in from the pantry. “Yes, sar?”

“Our carafe has mysteriously developed a leak.”

Bray bustled in with a towel. “I’m sorry, Captain. Where—?” His gaze swept the table before he looked at Trask.

Trask shook his cup. “Somewhere around the top, I think. It seems to have all drained away.” He winked at the rating.

Bray grinned. “I think I can fix that, sar.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bray,” Trask said with a small nod.

Pritchard clattered his cutlery into his plate, giving up his assault on breakfast food. “If I might be excused, Captain?”

“Of course, Steven.”

Pritchard rose and left the wardroom, closing the door behind him with a solid thump in the door frame.

The captain watched him go with the slightest of frowns furrowing his forehead. “I hope it wasn’t something I said.”

“He seemed a bit perturbed,” Natalya said.

Trask shrugged. “He’s sometimes a bit moody. I’m never really sure with him.” He sighed. “But beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. We sail with the crew Mr. Kondur provides.”

Zoya finished her breakfast and pushed her plate away from the edge of the table. “With your permission, Captain? I think I need to find my rack.”

Trask nodded. “Of course. Get some sleep. We may be pulling back-to-back watches for a time until we find Mr. Blanchard.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Zoya rose and followed Pritchard out of the wardroom.

“She doesn’t like Pritchard,” the captain said when she was gone.

“More like doesn’t trust him.”

Trask held his cup in the fingertips of both hands and tilted it to take a slurping sip off the top. “Do you?” he asked without looking at her.

“I don’t know him well enough.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He makes me uneasy. He’s too friendly. He’s always in the passageway outside our staterooms. I didn’t notice until Zee mentioned it the other day. Then I remembered all the times I ran into him there.” Natalya shrugged and finished the last of her pancake. “He is what he is and we just need to get back to Dark Knight.”

“What’ll you do when we get back?” Trask asked.

“Repair the
Peregrine
, I hope. Then we’ll see. Worst case we’ll do a little gas mining for docking fees.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Fuel coupling. The engines got overhauled just before I jumped to Newmar, but the throat in the fuel coupling took a bit of abuse when we were leaving.”

Trask nodded. “Need to replace it?”

“Just relining it would do, but there’s no place I know of in Toe-Hold that can do the ceramic work.”

Trask shook his head. “Cheap part. Better off getting a new one.”

Natalya stared at him. “I would if I could. Renfrew down at the yards wanted two hundred thousand to replace it.”

“Abe Renfrew? Dark Knight Station? Sweaty guy? Always flashing a bandana around?”

“That’s him.”

Trask snorted and took another slurp of coffee. “Pirate,” he said.

“I know, but what can I do?”

“That fuel coupling is the same one every fast packet from here to the Core Worlds uses. Probably could get one from the chandlery here for a grand. Charge it to the ship. You know how to install it?”

Natalya nodded. “I could figure it out. Those scouts weren’t exactly precision machines.”

Trask’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. “No, but that’s why so many of them kept flying for so long. Simple machines. Simple repairs. Computer systems on them weren’t worth a damn, but they were cheap as water.” He glanced at her. “You upgraded your systems, didn’t you?”

She grinned. “First thing Dad did, according to my mother.”

“Sounds like him.” He glanced over his shoulder at the open pantry door. “Mr. Bray, I’m taking my cup and this carafe up to the cabin. Would you come pick it up in a bit?”

Bray stuck his head in. “Of course, Captain. Would you like me to top it off for you?”

Trask shook his head and levered himself up from the table. “Come along, Ms. Regyri. We have a replenishment order to review.”

Chapter 45
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2

Trask lumbered up the ladder toward the cabin like he carried a full can of ore on his shoulders.

“You all right, Skipper?” Natalya asked.

He snorted. “Well as can be expected of a man of my age and general disposition, Ms. Regyri.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Half my officers are missing, most of my friends are dead. We’re docked in a Confederation port with a load of milk after swapping a load of illegal ore for it. The Burlesons are out of commission until we get those parts in, and the spares inventory has been boogered by person or persons unknown to the point where we don’t know what we have or what we need.” He grinned at her as he topped the ladder. “Did I miss anything?”