The breeze felt cool on Trevor’s chest as it glided into his open shirt. He liked the humid sea air and it was a welcome change from the frost of the north. He watched as the jungle below receded behind the barge.

“I can’t wait ‘till we go back north,” Garth said from behind the helm.

Trevor smiled wryly. “And then you’re going to be complaining about how cold you are.”

“Yeah, I know,” Garth said sullenly.

Trevor could see the distillery now. It was perched over a massive black rock jutting out of the sea which seemed more like a small island. The Nostalgia was nearly there and so were half a dozen other sky barges. There would almost certainly be some competition for the remaining landing pads. Only three of the five pads were still unoccupied as well as Trevor could tell.

Just a few more minutes, he thought. “Let’s see if we can beat those other barges there,” he told Garth as another sky barge was landing on a fourth platform now. From the distance Trevor thought her gasbag looked like a large, light skinned potato. His stomach made a noise. “How about you rustle us up a snack,” he said to the cook. “Fried potatoes sound pretty good right about now.”

“Lunch got done with three hours ago,” Ben said.

Trevor didn’t think he would have to persuade his own cook to make a snack when he he’d hired the man. He was Captain of The Nostalgia after all which meant that he could have hired the other applicant, but that choice probably wouldn’t have been much better seeing as he had just been released from prison. “Why did I hire you?”

“Well... you needed a cook. You got one.”

“And cooks cook, don’t they?” He asked.

“The only food stores we have are what you purchased in Daura. No potatoes, Captain.”

“Then what do we have besides that slop you keep making?”

“Uh...” Ben scratched his head. “We got bulk grains, Captain.”

“Bulk grains?” Trevor said incredulously. “That’s it? Mr. Rison, I specifically remember telling you to handle the food.”

“I did.”

“Then why are bulk grains the only thing we have for eating? I thought you said I purchased the food?”

“Captain,” The cook said, his voice astonished. “You only gave me so much money. I remember you telling me you wanted to cut costs, so I cut costs.”

“I said I wanted to cut costs,” Trevor said, slightly exasperated. “I didn’t say I wanted to be eating prison food for the next nine days.”

The cook’s face was red now.

“What’s this commotion?” Sorra asked as she came on deck, her long red hair waving in the wind like her baggy pants.

“The Captain wants to eat like a king on the scanty funds he gave me back while we were in the capital,” Ben spluttered.

“Is that why we keep eating slop all the time?” Sorra said.

The cook growled before charging below deck.

“What got under his skin?”

“Captain wants potatoes,” Garth said. “But all Ben’s capable of making is that goop he calls porridge.”

Sorra giggled loudly. “You going to get rid of him?”

“We’ll buy more ingredients the next time we make port,” Trevor said. “If he still makes slop, then he’s gone.”

“Poor guy,” Garth said. Then he added, “Almost there, Captain. Looks like we’re going to beat those other barges for that last pad.” Garth turned to the mechanic. “Sorra, tell Cylus to ease off on the furnace. We’re landing.”

“I can see that,” She said.

“Let’s get that cargo and get out of here, Captain,” Garth said. “I’m really hating this blasted heat.”

The Nostalgia’s hull creaked as she descended to the landing platform. She was hungry, just like her Captain. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll get you something to haul,” he muttered sweetly to the barge as he stepped off onto the platform followed by Garth, Sorra, and Cylus.

He made his way to the cargo bay. It was empty which could only mean the water was gone. He’d have to wait for another batch to be distilled before loading up the barge so he could be on his way. “What’s this?” He said, waving his arms to the cargo master who had his face bent over a plate of food.

The burly cargo master turned his head. “What’s what?”

“I thought you guys were on top of this. It’s unprofessional to make us wait. You know we work for a living, right?”

“Sorry,” the cargo master said. “The Lady Merchant took the last of it.” He waved a hand towards the fourth landing platform.

We’re going to be late, he told himself. “How long before you get another batch out?”

The cargo master looked up, obviously thinking. “We’re distilling five batches right now,” he said. “Maybe five, six hours.”

Good for nothing slobs, Trevor thought. Five or six hours wouldn’t make The Nostalgia late, but it would be cutting it pretty close. “You know I could take my business somewhere else?”

The cargo master wiped his face. “Do what you’ve got to do,” he said, turning back to his plate.

“What do you want to do, Captain?” Garth said.

He could have a nice chat with the distillery manager. But that wouldn’t solve anything. If the water had not been distilled yet, then it would be no use complaining about it. It would probably be best to avoid this particular distillery from now on. The next distillery was at least two hours out. Loading time and the cruise back would maybe shave off an hour. Trevor had already grabbed the last unoccupied pad and it behooved him to keep it in case the next distillery didn’t have an open landing slot. “We’ll stay here and wait for the next batch.”

After waiting for two more hours Trevor approached the cargo master again. “What other cargos do you have besides water?” If they were late delivering their load it would be best to have other cargos to make up for any payment lost when the city docked a percentage of The Nostalgia’s pay.

The cargo master gestured to some crates stacked up against the wall. “Dried sea foods... that’s about it.” Chances were he would be able to sell the food crates, being almost but not quite as important to the city as water, though he didn’t like that it usually paid less. Rural farmers normally had no need for food unless they were growing dryl grass.

Water. That’s what Trevor wanted to haul. It was worth a lot more, and if for some reason the city received all its weekly shipments he could usually hawk it off to the surrounding farmers who always seemed to be in short supply. If he got docked for a late delivery on the water he could still make up for it with the food stores, and If nobody wanted them... well, the food was dried, so he could hold on to it until he found a buyer. ”Alright,” he said, after inspecting the contents of the crates. “I’ll take twenty cases.”

The cargo master nodded. “Be back in a minute.”

“You’re buying food, Captain?” Sorra said. “We never buy that stuff.”

“We’ll see what happens,” Trevor said. “I want to make sure we make up for any late fees. If we can’t sell it to any of the venders back at the capital, we’ll try the north. If we can’t sell it there, then we’ll just keep the damn stuff until we find a buyer. Maybe we’ll see what Ben can do with some of it.”

Garth raised an eyebrow. “Fish flavored porridge?”

“Garth, shut up,” Trevor said. “It’s only twenty cases. Won’t even take up any space in The Nostalgia’s hold,” he added, trying to reassure the pilot he would get paid his maximum when they arrived back in the capital.

The cargo master returned with two workers.

“Sorra, show these guys to the cargo hold while I pay.” The two burly looking dock workers followed the red haired mechanic out of the bay as he paid the cargo master what was owed for the twenty cases of food. “And here’s the payment for the next batch of water.” He was about to press the extra funds into the cargo master’s hands but then he pulled them back. “You see those other barges?” Trevor asked, pointing outside the bay in the direction of the other four cargo haulers. “This means we’re first in line.” He shook the funds in his hand. “So if any of those under cutters try to bribe you...”

“I don’t take bribes,” The cargo master said as he abruptly swiped the cash from Trevor’s hand. “You really think an honest working man like me would take bribes?” The man guffawed as he walked away.

Trevor had the urge to laugh in the cargo master’s face, but held back due to his height and thick build. Dock workers, especially cargo masters, were almost always crooks. “Well alright then,” Trevor said to no one in particular. Then to Garth he said, “Come on, let’s get back to The Nostalgia before we find those workers poking around for things to steal.”

As they got back on the barge Sorra approached them brushing the grime off her hands. “Crates are loaded.”

“Good,” Trevor said. “I made sure to remind the cargo master that we’re first in line. So if you see any of those other crews getting near our cargo...”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” she said. “Captain, you worry too much.”

“If we don’t get back to Daura in time then it’s your pay that gets docked, young lady.” The mechanic made a face of indifference before she sauntered off.

“Kids,” he muttered.

Three more hours had passed and he was back in the cargo bay now. Fifty casks of water had been moved out, ready to be loaded onto a barge. Other Captains and their crews seemed to be standing around expectantly, as if they were next in line to take the casks.

“Alright,” Trevor said, “load ‘em up.”

Garth and Ben immediately set to work. Then one of the other Captains stepped forward and said, “We were here first.”

Trevor snorted. Amazing, he thought. After waiting five hours for the distillery to get their damn water processed, this man thinks he’s just going to swoop in here and get the first batch? It wasn’t going to happen. The next batch would be ready to move into the cargo bay as soon as he and his crew were finished loading the current shipment. Trevor wasn’t going to wait another minute after already paying the cargo master for the current batch. “No,” he said. “We’ve been here for over five hours waiting for that shipment. And it’s already been bought and paid for. You can have the next one. I think you can wait a little longer.”

The cargo master shrugged as if none of it were his concern as the other Captain moved another step forward. “I said we were here first.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Trevor asked. “You’re going to fight me over one more hour?”

The other man’s soul patch quivered a bit. “I didn’t see you standing in the bay when that water arrived.”

Trevor laughed mirthlessly. He thought the other man was quite a character, but he didn’t have time for this idiocy. With the most dangerous look he could summon, he moved his right hand down to the holstered pistol on his thigh.

The cargo master shrugged putting his hands up as he moved to an area further away. The Captain with the soul patch looked Trevor straight in the eyes. “Fine. Have your damn water,” He said. Then he turned and walked back to where his crew where. They began muttering quietly amongst themselves as they passed along dirty looks.

A wry smile moved over Trevor’s face, though he immediately realized what he must have looked like so he quickly wiped it off. Bluffing was one way to get an overzealous Captain out of the way. The world was a crazy place, full of crazy people, and it was the only reason a bluff like that would even work these days. Then there was always the chance the other man might have called his bluff. That’s when he would have backed down. Being first in line wasn’t worth killing, or being killed for.

Only minutes after the casks were loaded into The Nostalgia’s hold, the barge lifted off. “Only three more days before we reach the hot and arid plains of the desert,” Garth said with a frown on his face.

“At least you won’t be sweating like an over grown scrog,” Trevor said.

“So what’s the plan after we deliver?”

“Well,” Trevor said, “I think we’ll cruise back up north so you can freeze your cushions for a while.” He laughed. “You’ll be begging me to take a contract that leads us back to the jungle.”

“Of course he will, Captain,” Ben said. “I heard you got some ingredients for me?”

“No. Those food stores I’m going to try and sell in the Daura markets. They’re somewhat foreign after all.”

“And if you can’t sell them?”

“I’ll see about selling ‘em up north. The further from the sea, the more exotic the stuff seems to be.”

“And if you can’t sell them there?”

“Then I’ll hold on to them until I find a buyer, dammit.” Then quietly he added, “I might let you have a few crates.”