Freelance On The Galactic Tunnel Network, E. Foner [the unexpected everything txt] 📗

for the dates you require,” the Stryx station librarian responded. “How long are you planning to be away?”

“I don’t know, as long as it takes, I guess. You’re the one who told me that if I want to chase all over the galaxy in pursuit of a story, I may as well get started.”

“If that’s what you heard. Will you be keeping your apartment?”

“Yes, of course. It’s the only home I have.”

“If you’re leaving for an extended period, you’ll be paying for a space you aren’t using, and I expect your finances will be tight.”

“Yes, but what else can I do?”

“We provide a storage service for long-term renters and you recently qualified. I can send bots to clean out your apartment and put everything in storage at a cost of ten percent of your current rent, plus a one-time fee of fifty creds for moving expenses. You can contact me from anywhere with a return date, and I’ll have your things installed in a new apartment before you arrive.”

“All of that for fifty creds plus ten percent of my regular rent?”

“Ten percent per cycle,” the station librarian explained. “The fee is ongoing, but I can have it taken out of your security deposit, though you’ll have to replenish the reserve when you return.”

“That would set me up for more than a year. I’ll do it,” Georgia said. The doors opened on a familiar corridor and she stepped out of the capsule. “Hey. This is where I took my kidnap avoidance training.”

“Mac’s Bones,” Libby continued the conversation over the reporter’s implant. “The leaseholder sublets space for training to EarthCent Intelligence, and he also has a small-ship campground, plus the new rental agency. The kiosk isn’t far from the entrance.”

A minute later, Georgia found herself standing at a small counter manned by a cheerful Horten girl whose mood was apparent from her brown skin.

“Welcome to Tunnel Trips. I’m Marilla and I’ll be your agent. Do you have a reservation, Miss?”

“Georgia Hunt. I don’t, actually. Are all of those ships taken?” she asked, gesturing in the direction of the parking area.

“The three ships with full advertising wraps are the only rentals, the rest are here for repairs or are taking advantage of the camping facility and chandlery.”

“But with three to choose from, my not having a reservation won’t be a problem.”

“We do book most of our rentals in advance so I’ll have to check the schedule,” Marilla said apologetically. “I know that two of the ships are already spoken for tomorrow, so unless you’re only going somewhere overnight…”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Months, I think.”

“Months?”

“Sorry, I meant a cycle or more.”

“I understand Humanese, it’s just that we’ve never done such a long-term rental before,” the Horten girl said. “We only started the business recently.”

“Will long-term be less expensive than renting by the day? I couldn’t afford the daily rate I’ve seen advertised.”

“Seventy-nine creds a day, not including optional Thark insurance, which is another ten creds a day. How much were you hoping to pay?”

“Are we bargaining now?”

“To be honest, we’ve never discussed the possibility of open-ended rentals. The ships are single-cabin craft, as you can see, without any cargo capacity. You can’t take them off the tunnel network, and they certainly aren’t capable of landing on a planet, so we mainly rent them to businessmen who are looking for an alternative to multi-stop trips on commercial liners.”

“I’ll be staying on the tunnel network, I think,” Georgia said. “But seventy-nine creds a day is more than I earn when I’m working full-time. I was hoping it would be closer to what I’m going to save on rent while I’m not here.”

“Do you have experience living in Zero-G?”

“Just the time it took to get from the space elevator hub at Earth to the liner I took to come out here. I got pretty sick.”

“What is the purpose of your rental?”

“I’m a reporter for the Galactic Free Press. I’m investigating a story, but I’ll also be sending in regular pieces about local food culture.”

“Let me—Mr. McAllister?” Marilla called, waving to an older man in coveralls who was walking a dog the size of a small pony. “Could you come here a minute?”

“Isn’t that the ambassador’s husband?” Georgia asked in a hushed voice. “I don’t want to make trouble for anybody.”

“In addition to holding the lease on Mac’s Bones, he’s a part-owner in Tunnel Trips and has a lot of experience in space travel,” the Horten girl told Georgia. “Plus, he’s really friendly.”

 “Joe McAllister,” the owner of Mac’s Bones introduced himself, offering Georgia a handshake. “Beowulf acts as if he knows you.”

“Georgia Hunt. I met Beowulf last year when I was taking the kidnap avoidance course for Galactic Free Press reporters. I used to share my lunch with him.”

“No surprise there. Did you have a question about one of the advanced courses? Thomas and Chance are at an intelligence conference, but I saw Judith around here earlier, and she could probably help,” Joe said, looking back in the direction of the training camp.

“Georgia is interested in a long-term rental, Mr. McAllister,” Marilla said. “Like, indefinite.”

“We don’t have a rule against it if there’s a ship available, but I can’t imagine it’s the best option. Where are you going?”

“That’s just it, I’m not sure yet,” Georgia replied. “I’m an investigative journalist, or I will be as soon as I leave Union Station, and I don’t know where the story will take me. I plan to catch up with the Colony One people and follow them for a while.”

“Doing that in a rental would get expensive in a hurry,” Joe said doubtfully. “I have a friend who keeps a two-man trader she’s not using in the Stryx stasis lot. Lynx is currently serving as the third officer