"Yeah, wood, stone, and most textiles. They export fish including a lot of sh.e.l.lfish. Also various seaweeds and seaweed products."

"Well, I'm off tomorrow. I can try to scope out the flea. Maybe convince Beverly or Brill to talk to me again."

"Oh, man, Beverly," Pip said. "I thought she was going to lose it when it looked like you were gonna get stuck on Betrus."

"What?" I asked.

"It's true! She was a mess for that whole stay."

"I saw her dragging back late one night. She didn't look too good."

"You have that effect on women, Ish. Once they've had a taste of the Ishmael charm, they're ruined for mere mortals."

We chuckled, but I filed that bit of information away. "She's on mid-watch tonight, but maybe I can convince her to go shopping with me after lunch."

Pip held up his drink and I touched my gla.s.s to his as we chanted, "Better deals in the afternoon."

The conversation lagged a bit as we tucked back into the food.

"How're you doing on the stores trading?" I asked. "Is it still pulling your chain?"

He looked up at me and finished chewing a mouthful of chicken before answering. "It's gotten pretty much automated. I'm not really doing much anymore. A little tweak here, a little tweak there, but Cookie has it down pretty good now. I just make the data changes."

"How about the empty container?"

"That's going really well. I've got a base budget of fifty kilocreds to fill it each time. We've pulled anything from one hundred fifty to two hundred fifty back out."

"Nice ratios," I said, and sighed.

"What's the matter, Ish?"

"What the h.e.l.l am I going to do?" I asked him. "And for that matter, what are you going to do? Isn't your two year contract just about up?"

"Oh, well, I extended for another year. It'll expire in August 2353," he admitted.

"Why?" I asked him.

He looked startled by the question. "What? I'm going to leave just when we're starting to get established? If we buckle down and do some serious trading-with the co-op and our ma.s.s allotments, we'll be sitting on fifty or sixty kilocreds in a year."

I looked at him. "You're serious?"

He shrugged. "We've already split four and there's seven in there again. That's from a standing start with almost no ma.s.s allotment."

"Well, we had a lot of luck," I pointed out.

"Luck only has a little bit to do with it. We picked cargoes that turned really good profits. Yeah, Sarah made the most of the stones, but she's thrilled with her commission, and we were just doing business."

"But we've been six months making eleven thousand," I said. "What makes you think we can turn that into fifty or sixty by this time next year?"

"Two things, ma.s.s and money. We started with almost none of the first and darn little of the second. We now have enough to take just about anything we want."

He made sense. "But that doesn't answer the question for the long term. What are you going to do next year when your contract is up?"

"I don't know. What are you planning to do?"

I pushed the last bit of carrot around on my plate and said, "I told the captain I'd make up my mind about the academy."

"Make up your mind about it?"

"Yeah. Mr. von Ickles brought it up. Then the captain took me aside while we were dithering around in Betrus." I looked up at him then to see how he was taking my news. "They think I should go."

"What do you think about that?"

I couldn't read his expression. "I don't know. I think I need to get some kind of credential. A degree is good. If I'm going to go ash.o.r.e, I'll need a trade or something. That's what pushed me out here to begin with."

"Well, you've got credentials to spare at the moment," he pointed out.

"Very true," I said thoughtfully. "But-I don't know. If I stop thinking about the creds. If I a.s.sume, that somehow the ability to pay will be there. Then most of my objections to going are silly."

"So the only thing stopping you is the cost?" he asked.

"No, not the only thing. I'm coming up on a year on the Lois in a couple weeks. It's been a blast." I shrugged. "If I still think it's fun at the end of two, then maybe I need to go invest some time and money and get a third mate's certificate and see where that leads me."

"What? And leave the Lois?"

"Maybe Lois will be done with me by then," I pointed out. "Yes, I know," I said forestalling his comment on talking about Lois as if she was real.

We finished dinner and the waiter took our plates while offering dessert, but neither of us was in the mood, so we settled up and headed out to walk off the meal.

Finally Pip said, "How much will it take?"

"How much will what take?"

"How much will it take to go to the academy?"

"Conservatively? Sixty kilocreds for the four years."

"Fifteen a year?"

"Yeah, something like that. Ten for tuition and half again more for room and board, books, and equipment."

"So if we make sixty kilocreds over the next year, you'll have half of what you need?"

"Yeah. a.s.suming I want to go next year."

"Well, even if you decide not to go, that would be a nice little nest egg to do anything you like, eh?"

"True."

"Okay, well, h.e.l.l. What are we worrying about this now for?" he asked with a grin. "We're two stud m.u.f.fins out on the town. Why aren't we down on the oh-two looking for l.u.s.t?"

Behind us a woman's voice said, "Phillip? Phillip Carstairs, is that you?"

Pip stopped in his tracks, blanched as white as a ship-tee, and turned to see who had spoken to him. "Oh, hi, Aunt P. What are you doing on Niol?"

Aunt P turned out to be a distinguished looking woman with cropped salt-and-pepper hair, a lithe build, and a burly guy in tow.

"Hi, Uncle Q," Pip said.

"Phil, you rascal," Uncle Q said with a grin. "What in the name of the seven sisters are you doing here? I thought you were at the academy?"

I arched an eyebrow at Pip noting the similarity in build between Pip and his uncle.

"Uncle Quentin, Aunt Penelope, this is my shipmate, Ishmael w.a.n.g," he made the introductions like they were barbed wire. "Ish, this is my aunt and uncle, Captain Penelope and First Mate Quentin Carstairs." He looked like he wanted the deck to swallow him, but he added, "On my father's side," as if either an apology or an explanation.

"How nice to meet you!" I said, and stuck out my hand in their general direction. I didn't know who I was supposed to shake first, so I let them decide. The captain took priority and she gave me a firm and warm hand shake. The first mate's grip threatened, but never actually attempted, to crush my hand.

"You're his shipmate?" Aunt P asked with a little head twitch like some tall bird.

"Yes, Captain," I said. "We're on the Lois McKendrick."

Aunt P looked up at Uncle Q for a flashing instant before turning back. "We thought you were in Port Newmar, dear."

"Yes, Aunt P, well, that didn't exactly happen."

"So I see," she replied primly. She looked over to her first mate again.

He spoke this time. "Well, this is hardly the place for a family reunion. Why don't you boys come back to the Penny and have a beer and we'll catch up?"

I started to beg off and Pip gave me the if-you-leave-me-here-I-will-hunt-you-down-and-kill-you look so I merely shrugged, leaving the actual negotiation to him.

"I think we have time for one. Thank you, Uncle Q. We'll have to leave soon because we have duty in the morning, of course." Pip was talking quickly and I saw Aunt P's eyes narrow, but she didn't say anything.

They started walking and we fell into step. Pip walked beside Aunt P who took him by the arm, not so much as to walk arm-in-arm with her nephew, but to prevent his escape, I thought. I walked on the other side of Uncle Q. He looked down at me curiously from time to time, a kind of bemused half-smile stamped on his face.

Before it got too awkward I said, "So? What brings you to Niol?"

"Triangle trade, Ishmael," he said. "Boat parts for the fishing fleet from here to Umber. Bulk fertilizer to Barsi, frozen food from Barsi to here."

"Not very exciting," Aunt P added, "but it has put our three boys through the academy and paid off the Penny."

I leaned forward and looked at Pip, walking along on the other side of her. He looked like he was marching to the gallows. Personally, I had no idea families could be so entertaining.

Uncle Q and I had become fast friends by the time we got off the lift at the docks. Pip wasn't faring so well with Aunt Q, but they were already catching up. We headed to starboard where the orbital docked the smaller freighters. We walked up to a standard lock and Aunt P keyed it open. The telltale said: Bad Penny with a departure date of 2352-August-20.

Aunt P marched aboard as soon as the lock was open enough and Uncle Q stood back to let Pip and I go in first. Aunt P spoke into an intercom just inside the lock saying, "Roger? We're home, honey."

A disembodied voice said, "Okay, Mom," from the overhead speakers.

What struck me was how tiny it was. I thought the Lois was small, but this was like walking into a tram. We had to enter single file even through the lock. The pa.s.sage wasn't more than five meters long before it opened into what looked like a living room. It was actually slightly larger than the living room mom and I had in our flat back on Neris, but it had a rug on the deck, a coffee table, even a pair of sofas arranged in a cla.s.sic conversational grouping. I felt like I had stepped into something out of Lewis Carroll.

First Mate Uncle Q crossed to the small wet bar and said, "Drinks? Anybody for drinks?"

"Gin and tonic?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course," he said. "Phillip?"

"A beer would be good, Uncle Q, thank you."

He handed Aunt P what looked like a whiskey neat without her asking, and she sucked about half of it down in the first go. He handed me a very nice gin and tonic, complete with citrus wedge. "Thank you," I said. "Just like mother used to make."

He grinned, but Aunt P looked at me a little funny. "You drank gin and tonics with your mother?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Yes, sar, she didn't like to drink alone."

"Just Penny, dear. I'm Penny when I'm at home."

"Phillip!" a new voice boomed out of the pa.s.sage followed by a junior version of Uncle Q. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here? I thought you were at the academy?"

Pip looked a little embarra.s.sed by all the attention. "Yeah, well, things didn't work out the way everybody expected."

"When you left home, you were heading for Port Newmar," Aunt P said. "Did you get shanghaied along the way?"

"Not exactly. I didn't actually get on the liner for Port Newmar," he said, sucking on his beer. "I signed the Articles and shipped out as a quarter-share in the environmental section on the Marcel Duchamp."

"How'd you get on to the Lois?" Aunt P asked. "They didn't let you transfer?"

"No, they traded me."

The overhead took a dent when Aunt P's eyebrows bounced off of it.

"The Lois had a crewman who wanted to transfer into environmental. Pip-er Phillip-was willing to help them out. It was a good move for everybody," I contributed.

Roger in the meantime had helped himself to a beer, threw himself down on the sofa, and put his feet on the coffee table.

I looked around and except for the obvious things, like the hatch combings and the lock that I could see from where I sat on the couch, I could have been in somebody's house. I supposed, in a very real way, I was.

The conversation flagged for a moment and Roger grinned and offered, "Uncle Thomas is going to throw a rod, when he finds out."

I looked at Pip and gave him the oh-we-do-have-to-chat-later look.

Aunt P sighed then and said, "What in h.e.l.l were you thinking, Phillip Carstairs? Your father and mother are expecting you back with your third mate's ticket ready to go! How have you managed to fool them into thinking you're actually at the academy?"

"Semester in s.p.a.ce," he said miserably.

"Semester in s.p.a.ce? For two stanyers?!"

He shrugged. "Well, you know how they are with things like that. They probably don't even notice that it's been that long."