Folk To Meet, Deals to Make
Yuri met the new passenger’s words with an understanding nod. “Shiny,” he said as Yijun pocketed the key. “You’re free to roam. Just remember that the cockpit, engine room, and the upper catwalks in the cargo bay are off limits.” He checked his watch. “There’s a good chance our cook is setting up some lunch in the galley. Joe Hooker’s his name. ‘Hook’ for short. He can help if you’re topside. As for me,” the first mate chuckled, "I’ll be back where you found me. Nice meeting you, Yi.”
<Tag Yijun>
He left Yijun to his explorations, stepping through the aft hatch to the cargo bay, bootheels reverberating a hollow echo in syncopation to the rhythm of his thoughts. Today was apt to be busy, given the growing passenger count and the umpteen procedures deemed S.O.P. in the Doll’s engine room. He hadn’t scheduled all their top-offs with Yard Services yet, a challenge when no knowledge of their cargo for the next run would bear a crucial impact upon the Firefly’s flight trim calculations. “Well,” Yuri muttered to himself as he descended the cargo bay ramp, “I don’t know what I don’t know.” Having tabled that question for the moment, he settled into the lawn chair, Abby’s clipboard resting upon his lap.
“Good day, sir.”
Yuri’s repose was short lived. The compact individual before him was well dressed in clothing that projected taste over opulence. From beneath a sharp fedora smiled a fresh face.
Feminine, he thought at first, but for the hints of whiskers sprouting along the tender jawline. “And good day,” he answered in kind. “Looking for transit to Pelorum?”
“Are you accepting cargo?”
“Yes, indeed,” Yuri smiled. “How much do you need to ship?”
“Six crates,” the petite client answered without hesitation. “The items are very fragile, and all of a historic significance. We require the utmost care.”
Yuri’s brows lifted, his interest piqued. “I’ll trust you’ve packed them to withstand the jostling of flight,” he stated what seemed the blatantly obvious. “Do you need controlled climate, or are they sealed in self conditioned units?”
The visitor’s eyes lit up at the reference. “Exactly!” they proclaimed in a voice whose upper register timbre couldn’t be defined. “Eric Kalfin,” came the introduction in company of a delicate hand. “Larch Rare Antiquities.”
“Yuri Antonov,” he took the offered hand, delivering a courteous shake. “First Mate of the China Doll. So you need power couplings, I conjure?”
The delight…or was it relief…that crossed Kalfin’s face was actually quite becoming. “Precisely,” the agent nodded vigorously as a cortex reader was produced from a coat pocket. “I have to read this, because I don’t have a clue of what it is.” The screen glowed to life beneath slender fingers which called up the note. “Here we go,” Kalfin hesitated. “Power distro…distro?” Curious eyes lifted from the display. After an affirming nod from Yuri, they continued. “Two hundred forty volts at one hundred amps, three phase. Each unit is equipped with an LC 210 connector and requires fifteen amps…per leg? Does that make sense?”
“Perfectly,” Yuri offered a smile. “Nothing too unusual,” he responded, “though I will need to build the jumper cables with those connectors.”
The slight figure before him beamed a grin as they nearly bounced on the balls of their feet. “Wonderful! When do you leave?”
“We’re slated for Saturday at 3PM local time,” the crewman opened his clipboard. “How large are these six pieces?”
“Wait, I’ve got that.” Kalfin hastily scrolled, lips moving at the various notes flashing past on the little screen. “Here we go. It says this. ‘When consolidated, the six units have a combined weight of one thousand three hundred seventy pounds, and can fit within a space of three meters squared.”
Yuri set to work. “Got it,” he said as he calculated bot estimated weight and size of the parcels. “Adding in the power and special handling,” the mate glanced up from his calculations, “that rounds out to one thousand per unit.”
The brilliant smile collapsed. “Mr. Antonov,” Kalfin’s tone cooled, “while I may appear to be quite young, I assure you that I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Sir,” the First Mate shifted the open clipboard onto his cast, “Not only do you want custom power arrangements for your antiquities, but I warrant you’ll be demanding a full refund if one of those so much as gets a chip. Considering the care we’ll have to take and even changes to our flightplan, a thousand each is quite reasonable.”
“I’ll pay you five hundred apiece.”
“Nine,” Yuri countered.
“Six hundred,” Kalfin responded, “and not a credit more.”
The clipboard snapped shut. “Then I think we’re done here.” Yuri found himself wishing to have the deal making Abby within earshot.
Can’t imagine what she’d say to me letting thirty-six hundred walk away, he mused.
Kalfin offered a polite tip of the hat. “Very well. Pelorum is a popular destination. I’m certain I shall have no difficulty locating a more reasonably priced passage.”
“I conjure that’s true,” Yuri nodded, “but finding a handler who’ll sign an ISRAP agreement? I wish you luck, sir.”
“You know ISRAP?” The agent’s eyes narrowed.
“InterSystem Rare Antiquities Protocol,” he replied. “I know enough history to understand how museums and galleries ship their collections. Which one do you represent, Mr. Kalfin?”
“The Earth-That-Was Museum of New Valencia.”
“I should’ve held at a thousand,” Yuri quipped.
Kalfin appeared lost in thought. The Mate allowed the moment to pass in silence before the slightly built customer spoke again. “Mr. Antonov, I’d be remiss to select a shipper with budget as the sole defining factor, but regardless of the care that must be taken, I am nonetheless bound to operate within certain parameters.” An index finger touched the bowler’s brim to nudge it up his forehead. “Is there no room for us to arrive at a mutually beneficial outcome?”
Abby would’ve made a real show of this, Yuri thought as he went straight to the bargain they both knew would cement terms. “Seven fifty apiece,” he finally said. “My people don’t touch them. Your folks move and secure at both ends. You supply the cables and connectors,” he finished, “and we’ll tie the bare wire ends into our panel.”
The curator’s mouth fell open with a fresh retort and then shut again as he weighed the terms. He nodded to himself as the decision shored itself upon his mind. With a final theatrical sigh, Eric Kalfin said, “Acceptable. We pay fifty percent in advance, twenty-five on pickup, and the remaining twenty-five after inspection of the artifacts.”
“Agreed,” Yuri offered his hand. “So, the history buff in me is curious. What artifacts are we hauling to the Earth-That-Was Museum?”
Kalfin’s delighted smile had resurfaced. “Until we sign the ISRAP I’m not at liberty to say. Would Saturday at two PM be a reasonable time to deliver?”
“Make it one o’clock,” Yuri said. “Allows us both time to react to surprises.”
“Very well,” Eric Kalfin tipped his hat. Until Saturday, then.”
“Until then.” Yuri watched as the curator stepped into the throng of passersby, the somewhat sparing figure disappearing from view as he passed a stranger. With the sheer number of people hurrying before his eye, this stranger wasn’t extraordinary, but for the fact that he’d spent several moments in complete stillness, forcing the human torrent to swirl around him as a rock might goad a river. What made this man noteworthy was the discerning gaze with which he appeared to be studying China Doll.
In that moment when both realized they were being observed, Yuri offered a casual wave as the stranger made his way forward. “Good day to you,” he opened the conversation. “Need passage to Pelorum?”
<Tag Tommy>
