China Doll rested in her berth, heat from her atmo engines casting a shimmer in the air above as they cooled off. The moment she settled upon her struts, she was visited by the longshoremen, beefy types who wasted no time in coupling the Firefly to the berth’s connections of power, two types of water, and waste outflow. After getting the green light from the boat’s crew, they hopped into their cart and rushed away to tend the next inbound vessel. On their way, they sped past a slower moving lorry. The old truck lumbered its’ way among the docked spacecraft, weathered boards of its’ stakeside bed trembling with each bump in the coquina paved road. The dark green of the cab was interrupted by a rusting sign that clung to the driver’s door on two remaining rivets. [h3][b][i]Jinks Nautical Outfitters[/i][/b][/h3] [b]COMPLETE MARINE SUPPLY[/b] [i]”Before she sinks, come see Jinks!”[/i] “You’re takin’ all this mighty well,” Jerome offered from the passenger seat. “I’d be pitchin’ a walleyed fit over bein’ left on the dock.” Tom offered a noncommittal shrug as he steered past a knot of drunken spacers. “I’m the youngest,” he shook his head. “Simple math, Jer. All three olders get first rights to crew berths. They all take ‘em,” he tossed a sidelong glance toward his friend and coworker, “means I gotta stay ashore and help mom with the shop.” Jerome wouldn’t be put off. “But Trish?” he demanded. “Never worked a run in her life! What business she got…” “She’s firstborn,” Tom interrupted. “She wants to go. Dad signed off. Nothin’ more to it. Trust me...I’m not bitchin’. Spending the next six weeks on the nine-to-five suits me just fine. You and I get plenty of practice. I get quality time with my girl…” Jerome snorted. “Your girl. After the show you put on out at Deepwater Jetty, you’re still sticking with that old wreck? And what the hell kinda name is “Day Tripper,” anyway?” “I like it,” Tom chuckled. “Old song from Earth-That-Was. I’ll teach it to you next time we practice. Got a great bass line…” “Won’t be another practice if “your girl” has anything to say about it. You’re just lucky she didn’t break apart in those waters.” Tom steered them toward a Firefly that looked the part. “All about the balance,” he said easily. “A little too much sail, and not enough centerboard weight. Lurvy fixed me up. New board’s 500 pounds. Should let me fly the genoa in twenty, twenty-five knots….” “You conjure I don’t get a bit of that, right?” “Okay, I’ll help you out. The pointy end is called the bow...” [i]”Gǔndàn!”[/i] Jerome cuffed his friend. Laughing as he lifted an arm in mock defense, Tom chortled, “Just shut up an’ give me the clipboard, jackass! C’mon, straighten up. This is it.” He swung the lorry out, nose pointing away from the China Doll. With a grinding of gears and the protesting whine of reversal, the truck backed up to the open ramp. Armed with the clipboard, the youngest member of the Jinks family jumped down from the cab. He proceeded up the cargo ramp. “Hello?” he called into the dim shadow of the boat’s void. “Thomas Jinks...here to pick up crates from Seatronics,” he studied the document on his clipboard. “I’m supposed to see Abby Travis?” They’d supplied him with a photo. Tom had committed the girl’s face to memory, but it didn’t matter. [i]Don’t see any girl, let alone that one.[/i]