Surebleak Port
Portmaster’s Office
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Captain Waitley wasn’t quite what Portmaster Liu had been expecting.
No, scratch that. In a lot of ways, Captain Waitley was exactly what Portmaster Liu had been expecting: short for a Terran, tall for a Liaden, lean for the height she did have; shoulders showing attitude under a Jump jacket older and bigger than she was. Whatever else she was—and recklessly negligent wasn’t off the table, in Portmaster Liu’s not exactly objective opinion—Theo Waitley was definitely a member of Boss Conrad’s extended family, Clan Korval. Portmaster Liu had been spending a lot of time lately with the Boss and the Boss’s little brother, the Road Boss; she knew the family look when she saw it.
What did surprise her was the wild scramble of wispy fair hair, the pale skin, and the obvious frown. Captain Waitley was ticked off, which was fair enough. What was interesting, though, was how plain she let that bad temper show.
On several occasions over the course of their profitable, if not entirely placid, relationship, Boss Conrad had reason to be annoyed with Portmaster Liu, which she’d never known from his face. Crisp overpoliteness was the first clue, followed by frozen good manners and a toxic increase in irony levels, if whatever was making him peevish didn’t subside straight off.
Well, and maybe Captain Waitley had found that a frank and open display of temper got her the results she wanted. It probably took a fair amount of practice to perfect Boss Conrad’s style…
“Portmaster Liu, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” the captain said—well, snapped. “You wanted to talk with me about the drones we dropped off?”
Liu blinked.
Got right down to the business at hand, did Captain Waitley, without even so much as an inquiry into the portmaster’s general health and the state of the port. Nothing rude about it—a classic Terran approach really. Some of the kids attached to Conrad’s family were taking up the Terran mode, from what she’d seen and heard, so—fair enough, again.
“I appreciate you coming so quick,” she answered. “Good timing, as it happens. There’s a survey team on-port, and they’ll be wanting my attention pretty soon. So we’ll need to settle our business fairly smart.”
Captain Waitley nodded briskly. “I won’t waste your time. I’ve come to pay my fine.”
Well, now—the fine. On the one hand, it was good that she knew she’d be having to pay a fine and wasn’t making the smallest suggestion that it could be lost, friendly-like, in the paperwork.
You’d think, though, given a captain with a reputation of a certain kind, attached to a family that valued their ships more than the lives of their children…you’d think that captain’d consider the fine—hefty as it was—the least of her problems.
Which maybe meant that Captain Waitley hadn’t quite reasoned her way into a full set of understandings.
Well, Portmaster Liu thought, consciously bringing herself taller in the chair; this’ll be fun.
“Have a seat, Captain,” she said, nodding at the smaller chair by the side of her desk.
Captain Waitley’s frown got frownier, but she sat down, civilized enough, and as a seeming afterthought, folded her hands on her knee.
“The fine, now,” the portmaster said, forcing herself to talk easy in the face of that visible increase in bad temper. “You’ll take care of that with the bursar. I’ll point you in his direction after we get done talking about the citation.”
Space-black eyes blinked.
“Citation?” she repeated, real quiet.
Right, thought the portmaster. This was the street Captain Waitley was willing to die on. Money was only money. Well, Portmaster Liu could agree on that point, most times, but a citation, now—that was an assault against honor and, the little gods of nuts ’n bolts save her, she might’ve just let it go with a stern talking-to, rather than fight that fight with one of Conrad’s own, but…
“Citation?” Captain Waitley said again, even quieter.
“That’s right,” Portmaster Liu said, giving the thing weight with a brisk nod. “We’re laying a grava citaĵo—a major citation—for violation of spaceway protocol against your personal license for one Standard Year, and a six-monther against your ship.”
“That’s…steep,” Captain Waitley observed, which as a response was a lot milder than the portmaster had braced herself for, considering that it was going to be damned ’spensive in terms of hazard fees and dangerous-docking levies. Smalltrader was gonna feel that.
“It is,” she agreed. “And I’m sorry to say that I can’t let either one slide off the table.”
Another blink, the frown fading into thoughtfulness.
“Aren’t you the portmaster?”
Quick on the pickup—well, that was the family, too, grandpa to babe in arms.
“That’s right,” she said equitably. “I’m the portmaster.”
“Well, then, what prevents you, if you can’t?” the captain asked, which was a reasonable enough question. “I admit that we—theoretically—imperiled traffic. I have no quarrel with being fined. The drone didn’t cause an accident; it’s gone by now, and even if it had collided with a ship, the most they would have thought was they’d caught a patch of dust. Still—you’re the portmaster and I was out of line. We agree.”
She took a deep breath, visibly settling into being calm, and Portmaster Liu took a similar breath in solidarity.
“Typical offenses that merit a grava citaĵo are: law-breaking, port-breaking, child-stealing, illegal dealings, piloting to endanger—”
Girl knew her regs, plain enough. Portmaster Liu held up a hand, palm out.
“You’re right. I’m calling down a blizzard where a squall would do, like they say out in the city. Between us, if you’d dropped your little party favor in my shipping lanes on any other day, I’d’ve fined you, dressed you down like you’d never worn clothes before, and we’d’ve parted on good terms.
“But you happened to pull this stupid stunt at the exact same time we got a TerraTrade survey team on-port, trying their best to figure out how to hold back that upgrade you might’ve heard Boss Conrad is so set on us getting.”
That got her another frown, and a speculative look.
“You’re saying that you not only have to go by the book, you’ve got to go by the strictest reading possible, or the survey team will find cause to withhold,” Captain Waitley said with a slight nod. “I see that; I don’t have a problem with the fine. I won’t like it, but knowing the reasons, I’ll even swallow the six-monther against the ship, but—”
Portmaster Liu held up her hand again and glanced at the clock on the wall.
“There’s another factor you’re not taking into account, Captain. This is gonna sound brusque, but take it for the truth. The reason the survey team is looking so hard for reasons to deny this port its upgrade is because of what happened at Solcintra. At least one member of the team has it as his stated opinion that Clan Korval is outright pirates and all Surebleak Port deserves is a Do Not Stop until such time as you and yours leaves the planet.”
She paused, and tipped her head slightly. “Pardon?” she asked politely.
Captain Waitley shook her head. “Nothing; sorry. Why are they even bothering to survey if that’s their opinion?”
“It’s only one opinion out of a possible three. The other members of the team state that they’ve brought no preconceptions to the survey. Which might be so, but even if it is so, it doesn’t necessarily mean that TerraTrade thinks the same. In which case, they’ve got the team doing the survey so’s to have the record full and proper and no questions this time. Nor any appeals.”
Captain Waitley’s frown was back; she fluttered her fingers, pilot-sign for go on.
“Right. So, what I have to make plain as the snow in front of your nose is that the portmaster’s office doesn’t put up with any kind or size of shenanigans, and that we’re particularly keeping a very close eye on the members of Clan Korval. Any of ’em step outta line, and they get slapped, fast and hard.”
She took a hard breath, aware that she’d been getting a little emphatic, and finished it off quiet. “On account of this is Surebleak Port, not Port Korval—nowhere even close.”
There was a little bit of silence, which she didn’t interrupt, despite the time.
“I’m not a member of Clan Korval,” Captain Waitley said eventually. “I’m a citizen of Delgado.”
Right or wrong, Portmaster Liu couldn’t help but feel some sympathy. The captain was doing a good enough job of holding on to her temper and working through the possibles, as clean and crisp as if the whole of it was a problem out of Ethics Class. Unfortunately…
“That might work as a dodge on some other day, Captain,” she said kindly, “but I’m betting the survey team’s not ignorant of the fact that you’re the Road Boss’s sister. You being a Terran and a citizen of Delgado—all that’s aside. You’re family, even if you aren’t clan.”
There was a longish silence.
“I pulled an extra heavy fine and two grava citaĵos because I’m Val Con’s sister,” Captain Waitley repeated, seeming like she just wanted to be sure she had the info right.
“That’s right, Captain. I’m real sorry about it, but we got a lot riding on getting this upgraded certification. Ain’t just your family wants it. All Surebleak needs it.”
Deep breath then; muscles visibly loosened. Captain Waitley rose, inclined her head—and froze.
“Wait,” she said.
Portmaster Liu sighed quietly. Might’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Portmaster, have you had a chance to read the Scout Commander’s field judgment on Complex Logics yet? It was just made yesterday, but I understood the local Scouts were to be sending it right out…”
Portmaster Liu nodded toward her screen. “It’s in my inbox.”
“I know it’s an imposition, but could I ask you to read that? Right now? It’s pertinent.”
Portmaster Liu looked at her closely, but she seemed sincere. A glance at the clock showed half an hour before the survey team was due.
“All right,” she said, and touched the screen.
Captain Waitley resumed her chair.
• • • ✴ • • •
“Theo,” Bechimo said. “You are—excited. What are you planning? I do not recommend aggression against the portmaster. She has been reasonable, within the constraints she believes have been set upon her. The penalty is harsh, but there may be some mitigating—”
“There is!” she interrupted. “On Delgado, people who have done something antisocial, they repay the community for their lapse by doing a service, for free, until their debt to society has been paid.”
Theo took a breath, watching the side of Portmaster Liu’s face as she frowned at her screen.
“I think,” she said to Bechimo, “that we might be able to get the grava citaĵos against you downgraded, or forgiven, if you’re willing to do some service for the port. Crew and ship, that’ll be. I don’t know what we could offer, but—”
“I do,” Bechimo said abruptly. “Yes, I’m willing. Very willing. We will redeem ourselves to the community of Surebleak Port, and to the community of pilots and ships. At the same time, we will establish a precedent in support of the Scout Commander’s field judgment.”
Theo blinked.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “You’re right. The judgment gives the Complex Logics room to establish themselves. Us, here, starts that. But we need to get the word out—”
To a community that was deliberately hidden, and too aware of their danger from humankind.
“I’m not sure how to get the word out,” she said.
“I believe that we are not without resources. Jeeves has an extensive network of acquaintances. And I know you do not discount Joyita’s research abilities.”
Theo hiccuped a laugh, then nodded when Portmaster Liu glanced up.
“Pardon me,” she said. “I just thought of something.”
The portmaster nodded and returned her attention to her screen.
• • • ✴ • • •
Portmaster Liu read the field judgment once, then read it again.
So, in addition to being an attitude case, like the rest of her family, Captain Waitley’s ship was—of course—a Complex Logic, which just yesterday had been a crime, punishable by, well—death. The actual word used in the actual law was “reprogrammed,” but that didn’t change the finality of the thing…in Portmaster Liu’s opinion.
Today, though, courtesy of a field judgment rendered by Scout Commander Val Con yos’Phelium—coincidentally the Road Boss or, as they had it, half of the Road Boss—being a Complex Logic in possession of a good job meant that Captain Waitley’s ship was every bit as much a legal entity as Captain Waitley.
And wasn’t that just going to stand the universe on its ear. Not that she’d, personally, thought the Complex Logic Laws were the best work humankind had ever produced, but she’d comforted herself with the belief that it was unlikely she would, herself, meet such a person and be required to invoke the law. After all, part of the point was that AIs weren’t stupid. They’d scarcely call attention to themselves by coming into a well-regulated port, such as Claren Liu administered.
Had administered.
On Surebleak Port, now, anything could happen—and often did; a tendency that had only gotten more pronounced with the arrival of Clan Korval.
The portmaster ran her hand through her hair. Honest to space, if they weren’t doing so much that was right, for the planet and the port, she’d throw the lot of them off-world.
She sighed and closed her eyes, her basic honesty forcing her to admit the truth.
No, she wouldn’t.
Well, then. Best get on with it.
She opened her eyes and considered Captain Waitley wearily.
“So,” she said. “Your ship wants a word, is that it?”
“Yes. We’d appreciate it—we’d both appreciate—if you could find time to listen to what he has to say on his own behalf.”
“Well,” said Portmaster Liu, nodding toward the screen that still displayed Scout Commander yos’Phelium’s field judgment.
“Since Surebleak Port has apparently been chosen to participate in a test case, I can’t very well beg off, can I? The ship’s here, the judgment’s been made and is going out through channels, and none of us really has a choice, now do we?” She sighed and shook her head, wryly acknowledging the truth of what she was about to say.
“I would’ve had to make a call as soon as I’d gotten around to reading this anyway. All you did was jump ahead in line.”
It wasn’t like she’d never been a test case before, she thought. With hardly any luck at all, this one would go better than her first one.
“We realize that this is awkward,” Captain Waitley said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “You’re going to be hearing a voice on the comm, and you’re going to have to trust that the ship is speaking with you.”
Portmaster Liu considered her suspiciously, but, no, it seemed the captain was serious. Well. Viewpoint was a wonderful thing, after all.
She jerked her head at the screen again.
“I don’t see a Scout Commander risking his reputation and his career on a practical joke. Says right in this doc that this judgment came about because of a Scout challenge brought against the starship Bechimo, Complex Logic. That suggests to me that, when we get the starship Bechimo on comm, it will be the starship Bechimo I’ll be talking with.”
She turned the comm pad around.
“Call your ship, why not? Let’s get this thing done.”
* * *
“So, you’re offering free labor against a major citation?” Portmaster Liu asked, having listened to the courteous voice on the comm while it told down its proposal. She’d liked it, that voice; she’d also liked that there hadn’t been any attempt to claim he was innocent of littering the lanes.
Her question, now, that was a test, and she waited for maybe a little temper, or for a backup to the beginning and a complete repeat of what it—he—had just said, or—
“That equation of course would not balance,” Bechimo said calmly. “No, what I ask for is an opportunity to redeem my reputation, and the reputations of my crew and captain; to demonstrate to you, to Surebleak Port, and to the TerraTrade survey team, that we are not mere mischief-makers with no regard for life and law.”
“And what do you suggest as a fitting…Balance?”
“In order to bring both sides of the equation into Balance, I would suggest that the port allow us to clean the most energetic rubbish out of Surebleak’s nearspace. There are several resonant orbits at work which we can trawl for the densest groups; we can also create a stereo map of the larger out-orbit potential problems. We understand that the Gilmour Agency had such a map, which we can update and provide to your organization as well as to the Scouts, who will surely be pleased to extend it as they come and go. Also, we can assist in placing weather satellites, if they are ready to be deployed. All of this increases the safety of the lanes, improves the landing experience for those arriving at the surface, and improves the lives of the citizens of Surebleak.”
Portmaster Liu closed her eyes briefly. The punishment fits the crime, now doesn’t it? she asked herself.
“You can work that tight?” she asked, because previous unsuccessful attempts to do this exact sort of cleanup had foundered on human error.
“Portmaster, we are highly qualified for close-in work of just this type. We excel in retrievals.”
Well. It was tempting, so it was. She could okay it right now, but that might look too eager. Better to give them all a chance to cool down and look at the thing from all sides. Talk it over. Take advice.
And besides all that, she’d eaten up all her margin and was running close to the survey team’s appointed time of arrival. Instinctively, she knew that she didn’t want the survey team and Theo Waitley in the same space.
“I’ll need to run it past my advisory board,” she said, “in case we’ve missed something. I’ll get back to you this afternoon, if that suits.”
“Portmaster,” Bechimo said, “it suits very well. Thank you for your consideration and your time.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll be in touch.”
She closed the connection and looked to Captain Waitley, sitting quiet and calm in her chair, and took a deep breath.
“He’s…really a person,” she said, which hadn’t been what she’d meant to say.
Theo Waitley grinned. “He really is,” she said, and rose into a gentle bow. “We’ll look forward to your call, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”