Free Solar Express by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Page B

alone in the pilots’ ready room after having spent a not very restful night in a small cubicle euphemistically called a cabin. The cabin had been vaguely redolent of a disinfecting deodorizer, but Tavoian still preferred to sleep in low pseudo-grav than in weightlessness. Besides, it put less strain on the ship’s habitability systems, and he always wanted to have any ship he piloted in the best shape possible. He’d checked messages even before he ate, but there was nothing new. He’d even packed all his gear back into his kit, and stowed it in his ship locker, just so he wouldn’t have to worry about that when he reached LL1.
    He hadn’t gotten a return message from Alayna, but sometimes she did take several days to reply. On the other hand, Kit had replied with a message peppered with questions he couldn’t answer, and even if he had known the answers, he likely wouldn’t have been able to answer them without revealing things he was required not to disclose. But that went both ways, since Space Command restricted retransmission of the more salacious “news” realies, like HotNews! and Unlimited , even though they were stripped of video and sound for off-Earth transmission.
    At 0814 UTC, the ready room speaker announced, “Briefing information for Captain Christopher Tavoian on console two.”
    Tavoian had no idea whether the announcement was AI-generated or whether a human had entered the information. He doubted whether it mattered in the slightest as he hurried to the indicated console, where he pressed his hand to the sensor and then entered his personal authentication.
    The briefing information revealed only two things more than the orders of the previous day. The first was his scheduled departure time from LLOS—1010 UTC. The second was that he would be carrying two passengers—Valentia Frezza, Senior Technician, LL1, and Martyn Franck, Technician3, LL1. The last line was that further orders awaited him at LL1.
    The fact that he only had two passengers was an indication that his departure was not entirely conditioned on waiting for cargo or passengers, as well as a confirmation of sorts that someone wanted him soon at the end of the comparatively short hop—amazing in a way that a distance of from fifty-five thousand kays to more than seventy thousand could be considered short.
    From the ready room he immediately returned to FusEx three, where he began the pre-release checklist. He finished that in less than fifteen minutes, even taking his time. Then he waited … and waited. At least, that was how it felt.
    PASSENGERS ARE AT THE LOCK, the ship’s AI announced. THEIR AUTHENTICATIONS CHECK.
    â€œThank you.”
    Tavoian pulled himself down the ladder from the control deck to the forward passenger deck, where he opened the outer lock, and then after closing it, the inner hatch. The two technicians were definitely different—a tall woman and a much shorter young man, both in gray shipsuits with Noram Technical Service insignia.
    â€œTechnician Frezza, Tech Franck … Chris Tavoian.” He smiled politely. “I’ll be your pilot to LL1.”
    The tallish woman nodded politely. “How long will it take?”
    â€œThe actual transit is less than an hour. That’s because we’re already mostly above Nearside.” It would have been almost another hour, largely because of maneuvering requirements, had the station been above Farside at the time of departure. “Release and docking times … that’s up to Operations. Usually around half an hour at each end.”
    â€œThank you.”
    Tavoian looked to Franck, markedly shorter than Frezza, compact and not quite chubby, with an expression like a worried puppy. Tavoian wondered if LL1 was his first off-planet assignment. He cleared his throat before beginning, “You’ll have heard the briefing before, but it’s required. First, you’re