Chapter 3 You With Us?

In ancient times, raw materials and finished goods were commonly transported from place to place because of scarcity or the difficulty in producing finished goods. As technology advanced, the ability to manufacture goods was only limited by the imagination and technical competency of the designer. The complete automation of production late in the solar era meant that there were very few reasons to ever transport finished goods more than a very short distance. In the era of interstellar commerce, the notion of transporting actual finished goods across thousands of light-years is obviously ludicrous. However, detailed design specifications of finished goods from household items to military hardware are extremely valuable. With a core set of replication machinery and the correct set of specifications, an entire spacefaring society can be created in relatively short order. Thus, it is the transportation of Intellectual Property, or Data, that has become the backbone of interstellar commerce. This is the vocation to which you aspire as a petitioner to the Data Trader Journeyman's review board.

Excerpted With Permission

Data Trader's Handbook

Copyright 3250, Interstellar Data Trader Guild

"Pleb Draft in Ten Minutes." The reminder whispered softly in Leo's ear. As a master's candidate, one of his duties was to support his team in the draft. Not that he got to actually choose; he was basically a gofer for the masters in his trading group. Right now, that meant he had to be there for the meeting but didn't really have anything useful to do.

The Pleb Draft was a common enough occurrence that they had a routine for the draft but not so common that it got boring. There was a well-established "rotation" order that gave each group first pick on a rotating schedule. There were always more openings for traders than they had candidates so there was keen competition for the best candidates. Today, it was the ComDes team's chance for first pick. They had picked up four pleb's at the transfer station so they had a decision to make.

Not that there was much suspense in the decision. Leo had reviewed the jackets of each of the candidates and one of them was a standout. He came from a good trader family and had grown up on trader ships. Two of the others were in-system merchies, only Ramona was dirty-foot. Like it nor not there was definitely a bias in the guild to those who came from guild families. Growing up on the DA Connor Loic ("Connie"), Leo had known he would grow up to be a trader and had spent his entire life preparing for his upcoming master's board. Anyone from outside of that world simply could not operate at that same level, could they? Yes, everyone was evaluated on merit but the reality is that not everyone is equal.

The masters were starting to file in. As usual, Gunny Tomplin was exactly fifteen minutes early. His (far in the past) military training and experience still shaped his worldview, and that worldview did not include being late to meetings or imprecise in any way. Leo got a friendly nod. Tomplin liked him for some reason that he'd never bothered to explain. The other masters filled in the chamber with the "Arts and Entertainment" folks being last into the room as usual. While everyone was on time, only the Gunny kept the "fifteen before" rule. Finally, when a decent interval had passed, Roger Thorsten, the guild master, stood up. "OK folks, we've got four new pleb's from the transfer station. None of them have come to their senses and asked to switch to ship's company so we have four drafts to make." He looked over at Leo's boss. "Larry, I think it's ComDes up first in the rotation."

Tiernen looked a bit surprised, which was strange since this was common knowledge. There had been speculation for weeks about who he would choose with his first pick. "Rog, not really sure about our pick." There was muffled laughter in the room. "I think that we will trade our pick." The laughter stopped. One of the strange things about being a professional trader was that almost anything was for sale. Yes, they had an agreed rotation, but anything that could be earned could also be sold. Tiernen looked over to Tomplin. "Gunny, how about I trade you two for one? You've got an extra pick coming up because of what happened last month. I need two people. What do you say?"

Gunny looked down to his pad in a very studied manner. Leo was starting to smell a rat. Gunny's acting wasn't very good. This cool nonchalant thing wasn't really his style. He always did everything with purpose. "Innocent" wasn't really a facial expression he did well. Leo was starting to think that his boss had rigged the pick by having a deal with Gunny up front. "Well sure Larry, I guess I can help ya out. I am only one pleb short anyway. So I'll go first. Weps takes Eddington."

Now the silence in the room was complete. Nobody could ever remember a dirty foot being drafted above a trader born. Certainly not above three spacers born. It was crazy. Tiernan nodded with the look of a man who had the whole thing planned well in advance. "OK, great. ComDes takes Warren," the merchie, "and Torries." The other merchie. This left the trader born at the bottom of a class of four. In theory, the masters were not supposed to discuss the picks with the plebs but in practice everyone would know the selection order. In this case, it would look like Ramona got picked second or third since ComDev was "supposed" to go first. Now Gunny had gotten his dirty foot without everyone knowing he had picked her first. On the other hand, the next pick was going to reverberate around the ship.

Thorsten continued as if nothing of note had happened. "OK. I-Proc, you're up next."

Kelly looked like she had found the original patent for oxygen. "I-Proc is happy to take Swabian." No wonder, who would have guessed with fourth pick she'd get the "number one" seed.

The meeting continued with normal business for a while including a discussion of future ports of call. Leo tried to be interested but was completely consumed by the outcome of the draft. Having Ramona right next door in Weps was the best possible outcome for him. He had consciously tried to not think about it but now that the draft was done, he realized that he was very taken with Ramona already, which was strange since he barely knew her. If she had been drafted into ComDes, he would have been responsible for her and thus any sort of relationship would be bad form. Not strictly barred but certainly "not done" and a good way to piss away your chance of making master trader. Similarly, a draft into I-Proc is generally considered a death sentence and nobody ever wanted to go there. Weps was perfect. ComDes worked with the Weps folks all the time and their pits were right next door on the trading floor. If there was to be any sort of relationship, it could happen or not on it's own.

Leo's internal musings about his personal life meant he pretty much missed the close of the meeting. When he looked up, Tiernan was looking at him with a half-grumpy half-amused look. "You with us Journeyman Timur?"

Leo sat up straighter and tried to look like he was paying attention. "Yes, master trader. Nice move with Gunny, I don't think anyone saw it coming."

Tiernan took a moment to look self-satisfied. "That's the way to play it Leo. Never go into a negotiation session unless the outcome is already assured to be in your favor." Abruptly, he shifted gears. "You should be thinking about your masters boards in a few months. You still have some against you because of that stunt you pulled in Segini Minor a few years back. You need to do it better and cleaner than anyone else to ensure your board is a foregone conclusion. Right, son?"

Leo knew that Tiernan was trying to help but he really resented the way people brought up ancient history all the time. What was done was done. Besides, his lifetime score was the highest of all the Journeymen on the ship. His truculence must have shown on his face because Tiernan snorted. "Don't get all stubborn on me Leo. This isn't about right or wrong, fair or not fair. It's about getting the outcome you want, right?" Leo nodded. "Then listen to the old man and rig the game in your favor. Tick all the boxes and dare those bastards to fail you. Right? Right!" Leo sat up straighter. He really wanted to make master and Tiernan was trying to help him which he didn't have to do. "OK. Pep talk over. For the next six months, you are going to get every shit job that comes my way. You will be doing buoy maintenance, courier duty and whatever other low level crap I can think of. And starting right now, you are the best fucking onboard mentor on the ship! Read me?"

Leo stood. "Yes, master trader. I read you, zero latency."

Tiernan gave him a mock salute and with a loud "harrumph" marched out of the meeting room. Leo thought he heard him mutter something like "fucking kids" but wasn't quite sure. As he gathered up his own things he was startled by a hearty slap on the back. "Buck up son! If you were in Weps, we would have had you scrubbing the corridors with a toothbrush for a month!" The booming baritone of Gunny Tomlin was unmistakable.

"Uh, thanks Gunny. What's a toothbrush anyway?" For a second, Leo thought Gunny was going to tear him a new one but then he let out a loud gaffaw.

"You space born are all the same. Electricity is free, water is expensive. Down on a real planet, it's the opposite. Water is free for the taking but it takes time and money to make electricity. Why use a sonic scrubber when a cheap brush can clean your teeth just fine?" Oh. It was a dirtyfoot thing. "So, how is your onboard mentoring going for Apprentice Eddington going? If she's going to be one of mine, I want her squared away pronto."

Ah, so he had heard the little pep talk from Tiernan. Cross-pit mentoring was one of those "must have" items to be considered for a masters spot. "Just fine Gunny. I am meeting with her later today. She has tons of shipboard experience so her first few weeks will be a breeze as she re-quals."

"Son, listen to me good. If you want to be the best fucking onboard mentor on this ship, we are not going to wait two weeks for her to re-qual. She will be fully qual'd in two fucking days. Read me?"

"Yes, master trader."

"Zero latency?"

"Zero."

"That's what I like to hear. Carry on." He did not salute but looked like he expected Leo to do so. When no salute was forthcoming, his exit was as precise as only a military man can be. Each stride the same length, crisp 90 degree turn into the hallway. Leo couldn't decide if Gunny was really that gung-ho or if he had just cultivated the persona for so many years it had become a habit.

While Leo was not looking forward to "every shit job" that Tiernan could think of, the idea of spending some quality time with Ramona wasn't exactly his idea of rough duty at all.

Ramona was up early and hadn't slept well. A couple more short naps was all she had managed. The time adjustment added to the nervous energy of her first day on the ship were combining to make it difficult to sleep. She could have taken a pill but didn't want to get into a habit of that. Her militia experience told her she would settle down into a watch routine if she let her body work things out. In the meantime, she was flying through her quals. She had spent four hours on them before finally trying to sleep and now she had almost an hour before she needed to report. The system had updated with a reporting location and a person to report to. Assuming correctly that being precisely on time was imperative, she had walked up to her reporting location and timed out exactly how long it would take. Adding a few minutes for getting lost or having people in her way, she knew exactly when she had to leave.