Station Day 22
Administrative Tower
He had taken a half-shift to himself, and dared to sleep, after setting a timer.
Somewhat to his surprise, he woke, refreshed, from a deep and dreamless sleep a few minutes before the bell sounded.
“This is what comes of eating Tree-fruit,” he told himself, and swung out of bed with energy.
Lorith had not been in her workroom when he stopped by on his way to the tower. Nor was she in the tower. That was worrisome.
He was considering calling her quarters, when the comm announced an incoming call.
“yos’Phelium.”
“Fenchile here, Station Master. Just lettin’ you know that the unloadin’s done. Got the cargo stacked in its own pen, dockside, just as neat as you’d please. ’Bout half of us is gone over to Ren, and the other half’ll be following in the next little while.”
“Thank you,” Jen Sin murmured, when Boss Fenchile paused.
“That’s all right. Wanted to give you a couple heads-up. Those jitneys Gracie talked to you about are right by the cargo pen, all charged up an’ ready to work. Right up front, there’s the standard care package that we bring, every Traveler’s Aid call. Basic stuff—couple first aid kits, blankets, ration kits, energy drinks. Might could be somebody tucked a few beers anna couple bottles o’wine in a corner. Standard rack of evac suits in their own case, next to the right. Sent a list to the station admin account.”
“You are far too kind to us,” Jen Sin said, and meant it.
“’S’wat we do,” Boss Fenchile said, big voice easy. “Other news is the workboat’s comin’, like we talked about, and a mixed team o’warehousers an’ maintenance, to help with cargo-sortin’ and general labor. They’ll be wantin’ quarters on-station. Likely to see one of the supervisors sooner better’n later, lookin’ to make sure you got room for their crew.
“Not sure when, but Virago’ll be bringin’ a pop-up caf.” He paused, and added, warily, “Got specs I can send, if you want ’em.”
Of course he wanted the specs, Jen Sin thought. He would need to situate the caf and the worker quarters together, at a convenient distance to the cargo pens. What sort of administrators had Boss Fenchile been dealing with on the Liaden side that made him so dainty?
Well. Perhaps he might be a good example.
“The specs will be useful, Boss Fenchile, thank you. Also, anything you might give me regarding numbers arriving.” He paused, frowning, wondering if he dare open the light keeper’s melant’i so far.
You had wanted to be a good example, he told himself and touched the switch again.
“I wonder if you might advise me.”
A short pause preceded a cautious, “Do my best.”
“That should be more than sufficient. Are you able to explain the…conditions under which we receive this aid, these workers? I see no contract in my files, nor any budget. Clan Korval expects to properly compensate labor and goods. Understand that I am pleased to have you, your crew, your assistance. Merely, I wish to account correctly, and to have no misunderstandings between us.”
“No misunderstandings—we’re on the same page, there! How you got us is Carresens-Denoblis put out a Traveler’s Aid Notice. That’s for when there’s a rescue needed. Alla us who’d signed up previous to help, was there trouble, or who was in-station and at leisure, we jumped up to answer the call.”
A short pause.
“We’re volunteers, right?”
“I understand.”
“’Course you do. Now, it’s good you’re worrying about rates and contracts and like that. I’m warmed to hear your thoughts’re tending in that direction. But here’s what I’m thinking—that’s above both our pay grades. Right now, the Family’s spending for the mutual good. Ghost Station—beg your pardon, sir—Tinsori Light’s been a hazard to navigation for a lot too many years. Gettin’ it regularized and working for this sector—that’s good for everybody. Ain’t one of us can’t see there’s work to do, and station crew short. You do what you can, quarters for the warehousers and the like, and let us help you. If there’s contracts to be written, or Balance to be made, that’s all gonna happen next level up. Carresens and Korval, is what I mean.”
A slight pause.
“That tie everything up for you, sir?” Boss Fenchile asked, soft-voiced and respectful.
Jen Sin spared another uncharitable thought for the past administrators that had burdened this useful person’s life, and made certain his own voice was cheerful as he gave his assurance in Terran.
“It does, I thank you, Boss Fenchile.”
“No trouble at all. Glad you thought to ask. Tell you ’nother thing, while we’re on this—Gracie’s part of the Family—Belagras Denobli. You got any questions you need answers from up-line, you toss ’em to Gracie, right?”
“Thank you,” Jen Sin said again. “That is most helpful.”
“Good. Now, here’s what—me an’ the rest’re gonna go over to Ren an’ get settled in. There’s word o’some materiel to be shifted, and we’ll get to that next shift. Who’s the removal team?”
“Captain Waitley of Bechimo lent her crew to the task,” Jen Sin said. “They may welcome assistance.”
“Right. I’ll just give Cap’n Waitley a call, once we’re settled, so we can coordinate.
“I’ll let you go, now, Light Keeper, and get on my boat before it leaves without me. You can rest easier, now, I hope. We got your back.”
This last was followed by a sharp intake, as if Boss Fenchile feared he had overstepped.
“I am glad of it,” Jen Sin said sincerely. “I look forward to continuing our association. yos’Phelium out.”
“Fenchile out.”
Jen Sin closed his eyes.
More people incoming, he thought, and shivered.
Deliberately, he closed his eyes, and reviewed the prism exercise. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes, feeling calm and centered.
Reaching to the computer, he opened a screen. The delm and Ms. dea’Gauss needed to be informed of the various debts being incurred.
“Cousin Tocohl, I will wish to send this via pinbeam,” he said, fingers moving over the keys.
“Yes, Cousin Jen Sin.”