The Bright Black Sea Read Online Free Page A

shipmouse.'
    'Oh, that badge makes a difference, but in this case
is wasn't a matter of turning a shipmouse into a lorelion. I knew
if I let Jann bully me into cutting my own throat and word got
around, I'd be beneath contempt in the tramp trade. However angry
Jann was, and he was very angry, he'd break me, just as readily for
just accepting his boxes as he would for refusing them.'
    'And yet somehow, you ended up with his boxes.'
    'That we can blame on a three of stars. Seeing that I
wasn't to be intimidated, Jann, the loyal Night Hawk Line skipper,
reluctantly offered to cut cards to determine which ship would go
on to Calissant. Which, as I said, he'd have done out of hand with
Captain Miccall.'
    'Hence the three of stars.'
    'Exactly. We now had our chance to avoid the beach.
So we gathered the crew on the awning deck and set up a com link to
the Comet King so everyone could witness the cut to see
everything was on the level. I cut my three of stars and Jann cut a
twelve of comets.
    'Jann gruffly ordered us to
close with the Comet King and we worked non-stop for the
better part of a day and a half transferring those blasted boxes
ship to ship. And that, my dear Til, is how I came to have Jann's
forty-seven boxes. The moral being, don't cut a three of
stars.'
    'I'd say you're lucky Jann gave in. Both he and Min
would've had their plasma knives out for you if you'd just gone on
in, tossing a spanner into their plan.'
    'Maybe, well probably. Jann's still not happy about
it and how Tallith Min will take it is anyone's guess, though I'll
know soon enough.'
    'Ever find out how he ended up with forty-seven boxes
for Pinelea and Calissant?'
    I laughed. 'There never seemed a good time to ask. I
didn't want to make an enemy of Jann.'
    'You've a strange way of forging friendships,' she
laughed. 'Well, I imagine you're eager to make a new one on
Calissant, so I'd best not keep you a'yarning. Hope your orbits are
clear.'
    'Thanks Til. Until our orbits cross again, whenever
that'll be, fair orbits.'
    'Fair orbits, Captain Litang,' the last with a
laugh.
    And with that the steering rockets and the big wing
rockets of Tilli's lighter flared, sending the lighter outwards in
a shallow arc and plunging downwards for Pinelea and I was very
much alone.
    Well, the box dangling on the end of the cargo crane
wasn't going to stow itself – though it would've eleven thousand
years ago, before the sentient machines went on strike and eventual
exile in the inner drifts, free to do what sentient machines do.
Since the Unity Charter not only limits machine intelligence to a
level well short of self-awareness but requires active human
participation in every operation. So, if I wanted to clear Pinelea,
I'd best see to stowing that last box.
    Using the control levers with a neurological link to
the crane's sensors by the com link I wore on my wrist, I swung the
box into position and guided it into its slot in the hold –
operating the crane on the macro level with the manual controls
while the crane's sensors and the ship's computer did the micro
level adjustments preventing me from making a hash of it.
    Containers are stored on end, locked on a movable
docking bar at the bottom of the hold, which provides a sensor link
and power to the boxes. Each box has its own environmental unit to
keep its contents within the content's specified limits. I locked
the box down, braced the hold's containers, lowered the crane and
folded the hatch covers over the holds.
    I paused for a moment before lowering the cargo tower
to admire 'my' ship. We'd swung around to the day side by this time
and the scarred hull glowed rusty, formerly ruby red, having been
sanded thin and dull by centuries of plying the Nine Star Nebula.
The low angle of the sunlight showed every dent, ding and patch
starkly in its warm glare, the badges of the centuries knocking
around the Nine Star Nebula's gas, dust, and debris filled
space.
    The Lost Star is a small enclosed-hold cargo
liner designed