Trans Galactic Insurance Read online

  TRANS

  GALACTIC

  INSURANCE

  Adventures of a Jump Space Accountant

  Andrew Moriarty

  Copyright © 2017 Andrew Moriarty

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover art purchased under license from depositphotos.com

  Digital book(epub and mobi) produced by Booknook.biz.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  “Perhaps you could share your thoughts on this with us, Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Stewart.”

  Jake looked up and froze. He had been typing on the public computer terminal that was provided for students and whispering to Bart, his seatmate, not paying much attention to what the professor was saying. Now thirty heads had swiveled to look at him. Thirty pairs of eyes had turned his way.

  Mr. Dashi, the instructor, was short, brown, round, and bald. His brow creased with a beaming smile. He fingered his neat brown mustache and stared directly at Jake Stewart and Bart Sanchez, raising his eyebrows.

  Bart’s head jerked sideways to stare at Jake. Bart was watching the netball game on his tablet and streaming the live audio to his earbud. In the corner of his screen were betting odds. He looked at Jake, then tilted his head slightly toward the front of the room.

  Jake took his hands off the keyboard and sat up straight. He looked around at his classmates. Some looked bored; history of insurance was a required class, not one that students picked. Some looked interested in anything that might break the monotony.

  “Sir, I’m afraid that I can’t agree with many of the things you have been saying.”

  “You don’t, Mr. Stewart?”

  “No, sir. Bart and I have been discussing it, and I think that the original insurance laws were based on the original imperial documents, not on the arbitration agreements signed between the first corporations. There are clear parallels between the Imperial Insurance Act of 735 and some of our existing rules. The arbitration agreements between the corporations are simply extensions of the existing imperial regulations. They just appear to be new discussions because many of the originals were lost after the abandonment.” Jake stared directly at Mr. Dashi, never turning to look at Bart sitting next to him.

  Mr. Dashi’s grin got wider. “What do you think about that, Mr. Sanchez?” he asked Bart.

  Bart hit ENTER to place a bet on the game and then thoughtfully rubbed his face.

  “Sir, I haven’t had time to peruse those imperial documents. Jake was explaining them to me. I’m reserving judgment.”

  “That wasn’t exactly the last topic we talked about, Mr. Sanchez. That was a few minutes ago.”

  “Sir, I’m a deliberate man. I like to take my time to think about these things—research them before I give an opinion.” Bart flashed Mr. Dashi his widest smile.

  “I see. So perhaps I should ask for a paper on the outcome of your research?”

  “I’d be willing, sir,” said Bart. “Of course, since it’s an extra paper, I would expect extra credit—say ten percent extra for satisfactory completion?” Bart smiled winningly at Mr. Dashi.

  Mr. Dashi laughed. “Always the trader, I see, Mr. Sanchez.”

  “Just keeping up the family tradition, sir. After all, this is the merchant academy, not the administrative academy.”

  “A good point, Mr. Sanchez. A good point. But I see no reason to award you bonus points for work that I suspect will be completed mostly by Mr. Stewart—if he hasn’t completed it already. Isn’t that so, Mr. Stewart?”

  Jake looked at Bart, then back at Mr. Dashi.

  “Well, sir, I do have some strong opinions on the matter,” said Jake.

  “And of course, sir, it’s only fair that, if we both provided papers, we would both get the bonus points,” Bart interjected.

  “Mr. Stewart already has a ninety-nine percent average, Mr. Sanchez. He doesn’t need any bonus points. You, on the other hand,” Mr. Dashi said, switching his attention from Jake to Bart, “could use all the help you can get. There will be no paper. However, class, Mr. Stewart does raise a very interesting point. As we see here…” Mr. Dashi turned back toward the board and began to draw a diagram.

  The class turned its attention away from the two and back to the board, but Nadine, the girl sitting in the seat directly in front of Jake, didn’t turn away. She was shorter than Jakes 170cm, with honey blond hair, and an athletic build. Today she sported temporary wrist cast from her last netball game. She had tackled the other player rather than concede the point. She never seemed to do any work but always scored in the top twenty percent on tests. Jake had a huge crush on her, but was too terrified to talk to her. She wagged her finger at Jake and then winked before turning back toward the board.

  Jake felt the blood rush to face. He looked down at his screen and started typing again. Bart leaned over to him.

  “Damn, I could have used those points,” Bart said. “But good deflection. I think Nadine likes you.”

  “Why do you have to stream that stupid netball game, anyway? Your team never wins. And she’s just being polite. And why should I write another paper?”

  “Ah, my young Belter friend, remember this advice from your older and wiser uncle Bart. It’s not whether you win or lose the game, but how you cover the point spread that counts. And look at her suit—do you think it unzipped itself? Besides—I’ll bet you twenty credits that in your study notes you have already written that paper as one of those stupid practice papers you do for test preparation.”

  “I’m a year older than you. And you know I don’t have twenty credits to waste on gambling.”

  “Age is not wisdom, my naïve, untutored spacer, and it’s not gambling if you know the answer. Did you write that paper already or not?”

  Jake changed tactics. “I didn’t write that paper.”

  Bart looked at him and raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, it’s not in final form. I’d have to retype the conclusion and double-check the references.”

  Bart smiled. “Of course you would.”

  “Why do you gamble so much, anyways?”

  “For a gentleman of my lineage, gambling is a necessary part of my social duties. And because my parents have not seen fit to provide me with enough of an allowance to support me in my accustomed style.”

  “You should study more.”

  “No need,” Bart said. “You study enough for both of us. Besides, I have a busy schedule.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Spending my allowance, for one thing. Ask Mr. D. another question.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Just disagree with him.”

  “Why?”

  “Nadine will tur
n around again.”

  Jake blushed.

  Mr. Dashi continued until the end-of-class gong sounded. He smiled his happy smile and waved at everybody. “See you next class! Remember: insurance can be fun!” he said as he began to gather up his things.

  All the students did likewise. Mr. Dashi was a popular instructor, but there were rarely any questions on his favorite topic.

  * * *

  The student study lounge hummed as students planned evening activities. Jake and Bart were setup on a table at the front. Jake to use the station computer terminal, Bart to surreptitiously accept bets from fellow students. “I gotta hand it to him; he really does seem excited about his topic. It’s inspiring,” Jake said as he continued typing.

  “History of insurance is inspiring? Are you drunk?” asked Bart.

  Jake hammered one of keys. “Stupid old-empire terminals. My J key is stuck again. Wish I had a new tablet like yours, Bart.”

  A new voice spoke up. “Broken-down equipment is all a Belter boy like you needs, Stewart. You should be used to it.”

  Jake stopped prying the key up with his fingers and looked up. A tall, brown-haired man was standing in front of their row, smirking at him.

  “Danny,” Jake said.

  “Belter boy. Nice suit. You look like you are ready to bang on a thruster nozzle with a hammer.”

  In orbital space, everyone wore a skin suit—a tailored, one-piece coverall that was vacuum tight, electrically heated, and had a fixed survival collar. In the event of a breech, you could pull the air bag out and seal it over your face, plug a portable air unit into your collar valve, and flick the heating on. People had survived over two hours in vacuum in their skin suits without major injury.

  Jake couldn’t afford a custom skin suit. He wore a Belter semihard suit, usually called a semi. Looser, with reinforced panels and built-in tool belts and O holders, Belter suits were designed for workers who went in and out of atmosphere frequently and needed access to tools. Jake’s long years living on a leaky Belt station made him carry an electrical and mechanical tool kit in his leg pockets. Semihard suits were practical but not stylish. Danny’s suit was obviously custom made.

  “Danny, what brings you to our humble desk abode?” asked Bart.

  “Bart, I was wondering who you favored in the finals game tonight?”

  “And why, pray tell, are you interested in my thoughts on so plebeian a matter as that?”

  “Plebeian?” Danny asked.

  “Means low-class,” Jake supplied.

  Danny scowled at him. “Thank you, Belter boy, but I was talking to Bart. As it tells, or plebes, or whatever, I’m interested in making a few wagers, and I hear that you are the man to see.”

  “Outstanding! Indeed, I am,” Bart said. “How many, and what type of wagers are you thinking? I have a full selection.” Bart’s attention shifted. “Why hello, pretty girl!”

  Nadine came up to their row and hopped up on the desk right next to them.

  “Bartholomew Rodriquez Estevan Sanchez, I don’t think you know anything at all about the Imperial Insurance Conference of 735, and I doubt you could name the last jump-capable ship that left here before the abandonment,” she said.

  “Nadine! You are looking gorgeous, as usual. Is that a new outfit?”

  “Why, yes, it is. What do you think?” She leaned forward, put her hands on her hips, and twirled a bit from side to side.

  “Fantastic, it makes you look even more gorgeous than before,” Bart said.

  Nadine raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Too much, Bart. That’s trying too hard.”

  “You think?” asked Bart.

  “Yes, girls may pretend to be that stupid, but we aren’t actually that stupid. We know what you are doing. Only really stupid girls will fall for that.”

  “Good tip, thanks, Nadine. Um, which girls would those be? Can you point them out?”

  Nadine smacked him, hard, on the arm. Bart winced – she had used a closed fist. Nadine turned to Danny.

  “That’s a great outfit. Is that a silk shirt?”

  Danny preened and stuck his arm out. “Blend. Bought it off my brother’s friend—he’s my size. Didn’t have to cut it at all. Looks and feels exactly like the real thing.”

  Nadine reached out and rubbed Danny’s arm.

  “It looks like real silk, and it feels like real silk” she said, slowly running her hand up and down his arm.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Danny smiled at Nadine.

  “Bart has real silk shirts. He’s wearing one right now,” Jake piped up.

  Bart smiled and looked modest. “Indeed, I do. We Sanchezes always wear real silk. Here, Nadine, feel this.” He stuck his arm out next to Danny’s.

  Nadine ran one hand up each man’s arm.

  “Oh, Bart’s feels different, softer.” Nadine slid off the desk and started to stoke Bart’s arm with both hands instead.

  Danny glared at Jake.

  “Oh, it’s so soft, Bart. Ohhh, I could do this all day.” She spoke in a teasing, little girl voice.

  “You can if you like. I don’t mind. But I’ll bet it’s not as soft as your hair.” Bart reached for her head and ran his fingers through her hair. Nadine tilted her head up and looked into Bart’s face, then dropped her left hand and stepped back. She yanked with her right hand on Bart’s left, and Bart stumbled forward, off balance. She stepped beside him, pivoted his right arm high up between his shoulder blades, and pushed him up against the wall.

  Bart grunted and struggled a bit, but couldn’t move without possibly breaking his arm. Nadine held him pinned and waited till he stopped moving. Then she touched ran her left hand through her hair, then ran it down the back of Bart’s silk shirt.

  “Why Bart, you’re right. My hair is softer.” She released him and stepped back, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

  Jake and Danny hadn’t moved. Everything had been too fast. Bart turned around and shook his arms out with a grimace. Then looked at Nadine and shrugged.

  “If that’s the way you react to silk, I’m going to wear something different from now on. Want to come to the caf and watch the netball game with me? I’ll wear a velvet jacket?”

  “You never give up, do you Bart?”

  “Just getting started, Nadine. So, what about it. Netball?”

  “No, I’ve got things to do by myself tonight.”

  “A gorgeous girl like you should never want for male companionship.”

  “I don’t lack for companionship. I have a date later tonight, in fact.”

  “You say that,” Bart said, “but we never see you with these dates. I don’t think they exist.”

  “Oh, he exists. He’s handsome and successful, and he has a great job with one of the corps—and he’s far too busy to meet students.”

  Nadine turned to face Jake. “Enough about. Jake that was a great answer to that question. Where did learn all about this insurance law?”

  Jake’s eyes flicked down for a moment, then he tore them away and resolutely looked at her face.

  “Um. Ummm. Well. Insurance can be fun,” he said, looking down. His neck began to turn red.

  Bart closed his eyes, shook his head, and then he rolled his eyes toward heaven.

  Danny laughed. “I guess if you are from the Belt, a lot of boring things are fun.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet. He knew from experience that talking just encouraged Danny.

  Nadine shook her head.

  “That’s funny, Jake. But good for you. I’ll bet Bart’s happy, too, that you help him out so much.”

  Bart said, “Well, I’m glad he studies all these things, Nadine. He keeps up on this stuff for me. We’re a team!” He put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

  Danny smirked. “You are a team? Really? How do you help your ‘teammate’? Seems like he does most of the work.”

  “I’m the captain,” Bart said. “I’m more of a strategic guy, you know.”

 
“And your strategy is to have Jake tutor you for free, huh?” Danny asked.

  “It works for us. Jake is my friend, and we help each other out.” Bart’s tone changed slightly, and he stared Danny directly in the face. There was a moment of silence.

  Nadine put her hand on Jake’s arm. “Why, I’d love to have somebody tutor me.” She smiled at Jake again, letting her hand linger a bit longer.

  Jake hung his head so they wouldn’t see his bright blush.

  Nadine took her hand back and crossed her arms. “But, on another note, I have a question, do you know Kieran Bellefontaine? He’s two semesters ahead of us.”

  “I’ve seen him around,” said Bart. Danny and Jake nodded yes.

  “Well, he got his ship orders today. He ships out at the end of the week on the Globus Galactic. We’re all going down to the caf for drinks after dinner to celebrate. Twenty hundred hours.”

  “Outstanding. I’ll be sure to be there at…no wait…” Bart frowned. “I think I have a previous commitment.” He looked at Jake.

  “Finance exam tomorrow,” Jake supplied.

  “A finance exam tomorrow. And I haven’t studied at all. I need to review my notes.”

  “You don’t have any notes,” Jake said.

  “I meant I’ll review the study guide.”

  “You mean my study guide—that I wrote.”

  “Yes, an excellent study guide, if I do say so myself.”

  “Oh, you got into a finance class? I thought that was only for the master’s students when they come back from their tour,” Nadine said.

  “My dad got me in,” said Bart. “I’m just auditing it; the mark doesn’t count to the school. But my dad does get a copy of my exam results, and unfortunately, he is very interested in how I do on that class. Merchant family, you know.” Bart grimaced. “Sorry we won’t be able to make it.”

  “But Jake isn’t in that class.”

  “Well, Jake has a busy schedule, you know, transcribing our notes and so on.”

  “Pooh. Jake can come, can’t you?”

  Both Nadine and Bart turned to look at Jake.

  “Um, I really have to set up my notes and study…”

  “Oh, come on, Jake. You should come. It would be great fun. Most of the class will be there,” Nadine said.