Owner's Share (Trader's Tales from the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper) by Nathan Lowell Page A

and I’m not betting against that woman on a political wager.”
    He snorted and we drank quietly for another few ticks before we were interrupted by the raucous sound of the lock’s call buzzer and we heard the lock mechanism open.
    Avery looked at me in question and I shrugged. “Maybe an encyclopedia salesman.”
    “A what?”
    I shook my head. “Never mind. Ancient reference. Something my mother used to say.”
    “Skipper? It’s for you.” Mr. Hill stood in the door to the mess deck with a burly looking man in a nicely tailored business suit with a briefcase under his arm.
    I stood and crossed to meet him.
    “Good morning, Captain. I’m Richard Larks, partner at Larks, Simpson, and Greene. Kirsten Kingsley asked me to visit you.”
    “Larks, Simpson, and Greene,” I repeated trying to dredge up the name.
    “Yes, Captain. We’ve been helping the Maloney family with their financial strategies for almost a century. My grandfather worked with Philo Maloney himself back in the beginning.”
    “Impressive. Did Ms. Kingsley tell you why you should come see me on the ship today, Mr. Larks?”
    He smiled. “She did, and might I suggest we go someplace where we can sit and chat? I think we have much to discuss.”
    I turned to Mr. Hill. “Thank you, Mr. Hill. I’ll be in the cabin if you need me?”
    He gave a little nod and headed back down the passage. He’d ask later, if I knew Mr. Hill. The curiosity would eat at him until he did.
    “Coffee, Mr. Larks?”
    “Only if it’s no bother, Captain.”
    I looked over my shoulder, “Mr. Wyatt, could I trouble you for a tray?”
    “Of course, Skipper. You gents go on up and I’ll bring you one in a moment.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Wyatt.” I turned to my mountainous guest and nodded to the ladder. “This way, Mr. Larks.”

Chapter Five
Diurnia Orbital:
2372-December-18
    Mr. Wyatt had the coffee service in the cabin almost before we settled and he grinned at me as he slipped out, latching the door behind him. Mr. Larks made appreciative noises over the coffee and looked around at the room.
    “You look very comfortable here, Captain.”
    “Thanks. It’s where I call home, and given how much time I can’t live anywhere else, it’s just as well.”
    His laugh was a low rumble in his chest. “Makes sense, I suppose.” He sipped once more and then leaned forward, propping elbows on knees and clasping his hands in front of him. “So? How can I help you, Captain Wang?”
    “I don’t know, Mr. Larks. What do you do? And how much will it cost me?”
    He cocked his head as if to listen better out of his right ear. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m confused. Ms. Kingsley asked me to come help you with some financial planning. This trip costs you nothing, other than this coffee and a little time.”
    “Yes, she said I should contact a financial planner. I didn’t realize she’d precipitate the meeting.”
    “She said you’re about to come into a lot of money and that you needed some advice as to how to handle it.”
    “Did she say any more than that?”
    He shook his massive head. “Only that she’d take it as a personal favor and I would probably find it worthwhile.”
    “Well, she thinks I’m going to be coming into a lot of money, and she’s probably right. This is out of my league, so some professional advice is probably called for.”
    He nodded, his eyes fixed on my face. “I’ll need to know how much money, and maybe something about where it’s coming from...”
    “Do you know about the salvage claim against the Chernyakova ? DST has a substantial stake in that.”
    “Of course, they stand to make a nice bonus on that. Even for a company the size of DST, it’s predicted to be a nice number.” He stopped in mid-thought and recognition blossomed on his face. “Ishmael Wang? You led the prize crew! Of course.”
    “That’s me.”
    “I apologize, Captain. I didn’t make the connection because you’re listed as First Mate on the documentation.