Free Ships of My Fathers by Dan Thompson Page A

status?”
    “Load-in should be done within the hour. Pushback scheduled for fourteen hundred local, fifteen forty-two by ship clock.”
    “Excellent,” Hans replied. “Karl, this is your third cousin, Michael.”
    The man stepped forward and extended his hand. “Karl Roth, good to meet you, Michael. Station comm said your bags will be here shortly, so I’ll see to them.”
    Michael took the hand. Karl had a firm grip. “Third cousin, right.”
    “Don’t worry. You’ve got a week before they test you on it.”
    Michael chuckled and followed his uncle inside.
    The docking tube ran about thirty meters, and the gravity inside was variable, heavier towards each end but almost gone in the middle. Michael had run into this kind of thing before and took his cue from Hans in front of him as to when he should be gripping the handrails and when he could trust his own feet.
    The airlock at the other end was pristine. It was one of the ones that pulled in before hinging over. It was a better failsafe design, but it made the airlocks bigger, something smaller ships like the Sophie could not afford. The inner door had the same design, but it looked like it also had a second sliding hatch that could be closed more quickly. Everywhere he looked, the metal gleamed and the white fittings were spotless.
    Inside, two crew were waiting, both standing, one behind a desk and another in the hallway. “Good afternoon, sir,” said the closer one.
    “Billy, this is my nephew, Michael.”
    They shook hands, and the other one stepped forward from the hallway. “And I’m Charlie Feldman, systems lead on the first watch. If I did the math right, I think we’re second cousins.”
    Michael shook his hand as well. “Charlie, ok.”
    “Don’t worry—”
    “I know. I’ve got a week before they test me.”
    Charlie looked back to Hans. “He’s going to fit right in, sir.”
    “All right, Charlie, get him down to Harry for some uniforms, let him grab a bite, show him to quarters, and give him the tour.”
    “The full tour?”
    “No, keep to the fore. We’ll save the drive for another time.”
    “Aye, sir. Come on, Michael, follow me.”
    They went down the hall, passed through two open pressure doors, took a left, and then went down two sets of steep stair-ladders, and another set of turns. Michael had known the Sophie well enough to navigate it blind, upside down, and in zero gravity, but here he was already lost.
    Their destination seemed to be the laundry, but the sign above the hatch said “Quartermaster.”
    “Harry, you in here?” Charlie called out.
    She came out from behind racks of uniforms and undershirts. “Hey, Charlie. Is this our new guy?”
    Michael stepped forward and extended his hand, but she pulled him in for a quick hug. “Welcome to the family,” she said. “I’m Harriet, but most folks call me Harry.”
    “Ok, why Harry?”
    She chuckled and pointed to the stitched name patch on her shirt. It read “HARRIET THROCKMORTON”, the letters pressed together so close he could barely make them out. “It wasn’t until I got this post that I was finally able to tweak one of the machines into fitting it all in there. At my first posting, all I got was Harry Throckmo. Thankfully only the Harry stuck.”
    “He’s going to need the usual,” Charlie said, “uniforms, personals, environmental, and I’m pretty sure Captain will want him to have a dress uniform.”
    “No problem. Department?”
    Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
    Harry pulled a measuring tape out of her pocket and started stretching it across him in several places, rattling off numbers as she did it. “You’ve got big feet, Michael. Was your dad tall?”
    “No,” he replied. Malcolm had come in well short of two meters. Then he caught himself. “Actually, I guess I don’t know.”
    “Oh that’s right. You’re Peter’s kid.” She went on to measure the girth of his knees. “He was a tall one. Damn, but your e-suit is going to