Pulsar Race (Starship’s Mage #9.5) - Glynn Stewart Page 0,3

the Mage’s Guild was an entirely normal-looking twelfth story suite in one of the central office towers. The reception area was carpeted in dark blue carpet that matched the comfortable-looking furniture and went well with the sparkling white walls and reception desk.

“I need to do a Ship’s Mage registration,” he told the youth. “And I’d like to talk to whoever is running registration, if that’s possible.

“I could help you with the registration here if there’s nothing complicated,” the young man replied. “But if you want to speak to Miz Kush, I’m afraid she’s out for a late lunch. She should be back in the next twenty minutes or so, if it’s important?”

Ivan considered it for all of ten seconds, long enough for the youth behind the desk to start looking awkward, before smiling and shaking his head. His curiosity over what the Mage Guild was telling people about Charpentier wasn’t that important.

“No, if you and I can go through the registration together, that will be fine,” he said. “Identification number is CT-5385, Restoya. I’ll be taking a temporary position as senior Ship’s Mage under Captain Charpentier.”

“Of course, of course,” the young man replied. “If you want to take a seat, please, sir Mage? My name is Simion Dumitrescu and I’ll be delighted to help you.”

An unseen command opened a concealed cupboard in the gleaming white desk that disgorged a blue-upholstered rolling chair. Ivan took the seat calmly—he was keeping up enough of the physical exercise program the RMN had trained into him that he could keep standing for a while but he was still closer to fifty than forty.

“I see Restoya here, yes,” Dumitrescu told him. “Um. That’s odd.”

“What’s odd, Mr. Dumitrescu?” Ivan asked.

“Just the history of the ship, sir Mage,” the youth replied. “All five of her Mages resigned on the same day fourteen months ago. Odd situation, no explanation given—but we do have a flag on the file to warn potential Mages about that.”

“I’m already aware of it,” Ivan said. “Captain Charpentier was quite honest about the problems his ship had had.”

“Yes, of course,” Dumitrescu said slowly. “I also have a note on here to warn potential Mages that Restoya is subject to a Notice of Potential Seizure by a syndicate of local banks. Both first and second mortgages have applied for the Notice. If you take a position as her Mage, you will be obligated to return her to this system by the date specified.”

The youth blinked.

“I haven’t seen this before,” he admitted.

“If I don’t, what happens?” Ivan asked. “I haven’t heard of that myself either.”

“If you don’t cooperate with the Notice, you’ll lose your good standing status with the Guild and be regarded as liable for Captain Charpentier’s mortgages in the case that the ship cannot be seized,” the youth read off.

“Apologies, sir Mage, this is from the file and the Notice itself; I’m not—”

“I understand, Mr. Dumitrescu,” Ivan told the young man. “That’s definitely something I needed to know, and I will keep in mind. Any other flags on the file I should be aware of?”

“There is one more flag around Captain Charpentier’s general credit rating. The Guild keeps an eye on Captains’ fiscal standings, and Charpentier is currently rated double F in our files. We wouldn’t lend him money.”

Or work for him, Ivan guessed. The Guild valued transparency on both sides of the deals it tracked and mediated. That wasn’t great for a Captain in trouble, but as the Mage signing on, he appreciated it.

“I’m aware of Captain Charpentier’s situation,” Ivan said. “Do you need me to mark a waiver or something confirming that I’ve heard the lecture?”

“I have to confirm I warned you about all flags on the account, but that’s all,” the Guild receptionist told him. “I’m not sure I’d take the job, if I was a Mage.”

“I owe Charpentier and I’m trying to avoid boredom in retirement,” Ivan replied.

“I have your record here, I see,” Dumitrescu said. “Thank you for your service, Mage-Captain!”

“Just…Mage is fine,” Ivan said, shifting awkwardly. Tradition said that any retiring officer was promoted one grade to boost their pension. He’d actually retired as a Mage-Commander. He’d never even held the courtesy “Captain” title, though he knew other Mage-Commanders who’d been made Captain of their own destroyers.

“All right, everything is loaded in and checked off,” the secretary said. He slid a tablet across the white desk. “If you can sign and thumbprint the pad, Mage-Captain, you will be on the records as Captain Charpentier’s Mage. Everything official and