AMP Messenger

by Stephen Arseneault

  Chapter 4

  _______________________

  Three weeks had passed without income. Frig was offered several temporary engineering contracts. He turned them down. If I was able to find a way to recover the Swift, Frig would have to be there. After ten years of coaxing every light-year of distance out of her, his own attachment to the ship was evident.

  On this evening we were sipping liquor, sparingly, in a joint called “Jasper's on the Deck.” It was frequented by Messenger pilots looking for short-haul contracts. Frig and I were passing the time when a rather attractive woman approached our table.

  “Hi, sorry to be so forward, but I understand you might be in need of some work? Here is my card. My name is Ashley Elizabeth, and I would like to discuss a possible contract. Does that interest you?”

  I had stumbled into contracts in the past, but had never had one come searching me out. And this Ashley Elizabeth was a stunner. Long, slender legs rose up to a very pleasing, well-proportioned torso before settling into a blue-eyed, blonde face that could easily fill the screen of any of the broadcast channels on the Grid. Her smile was difficult to turn away from.

  I replied, “Well, that depends on the contract... Ms. Elizabeth. If you're looking for a skilled pilot and engineer, you've come to the right place. Donald Grange... a pleasure to meet you. If you're also in need of a ship... well, we're temporarily held up and in need of repairs.”

  I felt bad leading her on about the Swift, but it was business, and business was something that we were in dire need of.

  She smiled, “I can provide a vessel if needed; it will, however, be reflected in the pay scale. I believe the standard fee is 30 percent?”

  I fumbled with my drink glass for several seconds. “My associate and I typically ask for 35 percent... given our level of experience. Veteran pilots are hard to come by on their own, but a skilled engineer too? That typically calls for a premium.”

  Ashley set her hands on the table edge before looking me straight in the eyes. “Hmm. I heard that you were available and in need of work, Mr. Grange. I'm offering 30 percent, and the work is a simple package delivery to grid 197. It is something that a more junior pilot could handle if you're not interested.”

  I again tried to play stubborn. “If you only need a junior pilot, why'd you come searching us out?”

  I knew I was pushing my luck, but my question was valid following the statement she had made.

  Ashley replied, “Let's just say the package has some sentimental value to me and that I want to ensure its delivery. The fee is 30 percent, Mr. Grange... final offer.”

  I looked around the room and then back up at the beautiful blonde standing before me. I paused for several seconds before answering so as not to appear too eager. It was a job we badly needed.

  I cleared my throat. “Ms. Elizabeth, we will take your offer. Is there a schedule for delivery that we should begin preparation for?”

  She smiled before holding out her credit store. “Terms of the contract will be transferred to your store. Payment will be the standard 15 percent deposited upon your departure, with the remaining 85 percent upon confirmed delivery. The contract is for an immediate run, leaving within the hour; a ship will be waiting for you at slip 79D.”

  Before accepting the transfer of the contract, I attempted one final shot at upping the fee. “Such a prompt departure generally requires a bonus in the contract. Has that been included?”

  Ashley leaned in close to whisper in my ear. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating.

  “I believe you will be quite content with the fee, Mr. Grange. The package in question is very valuable to me, and as such, I placed a high sum on its secure delivery. The 2,200-credit fee is quite generous. I trust you will be discreet, as I do not want undesirables sniffing around.”

  I accepted the contract, rose, and thanked Ashley for the business.

  As she left, I turned to Frig. “Go get a duffel. I'll meet you at 79D. And don't be late, we can't afford to lose credits over a contract departure infraction.”

  Frig replied, “Have I ever once been late, sir?”

  I pointed as we hurried toward the door. “Just go!”

  Forty-seven minutes later, we arrived at slip 79D. The contract super pointed us in the direction of the leased vessel, a Mobi-class general hauler. It was a fast ship for its size, but had the minimum of creature comforts. The shower was small and low-flow, the air recyclers were notorious for breaking down or just doing a poor job in general, and the seating was about as uncomfortable as physically possible.

  The controls in the pilot's chair were prone to short circuits, earning the chair the nickname of “Old Sparky.” It was the butt of constant joking among operators. Most pilots would bring their own replacement chair to bolt in its place. I could not afford the fifty credits for a chair at the salvage yard, nor did we have the time to spare. It would be a two-week journey with my back sticking straight up as I fumbled with arm controls that would likely not work.

  Once our gear was stowed, we awaited delivery of the package. The item for transport came in a small box. A personal note was attached which read: I am entrusting this item to your care. Please be careful and see that it is delivered into the hands of Ms. Rita Spencer at the beta port of station 36 orbiting Marsoon-3. Mr. Grange, this is very personal to me; please ensure that the package is not opened before delivery, as the contents are of an intimate nature. If all goes well, I may have more deliveries for you upon your return. Ashley Elizabeth.

  The Marsoon system was a gravy run. And the fee that Ashley was willing to pay seemed well out of line with what would be expected. A full load in a Mobi to that system would typically be priced around 900 credits. But I was not about to argue with the fee, as 2,200 credits would be a good start toward funding the Swift's recovery. Frig had estimated the needed amount of cash at 24,000 credits. We soon lifted off for the two weeks’ ride to Marsoon.

  The Mobi's computer system had the bare minimum of software installed. There would be little to no research material available to occupy Frig's time. And no game of Bollox for me. I was dreading the inevitable uncomfortable silence that was sure to play a part in the journey. Neither of us was skilled at making small talk, especially with one another.

  Once we had passed the station transfer waypoint, I rose from the pilot’s chair and headed to the cargo hold.

  Frig said, “Sir, where are you going? Were you aware of the fact that the ship's library has been scrubbed clean? I could not find the manual listings for the ship's systems either. That could make repairs difficult should the need arise.”

  I turned my gaze back and raised a hand as I walked. “Relax, my friend, I think I have something that might help you pass the time. It was given to me by my father when I was a kid. I don't know why I've been toting it around with me for all these years. It's a puzzle, a brainteaser of sorts. It might be just the thing to keep your feeble mind occupied. Might even offer you a challenge.”

  Frig gave an immediate response with a raised voice. “I would hardly call a Human child's toy a challenge... Sir. However, I am not in the position to decline your generous offer of entertainment. A thirty-second break from the monotony that is your friendship is thirty seconds that I am willing to part with.”

  As I returned with the puzzle and placed it in Frig's long, slender hand, I smiled. “Now that was an unexpected zinger coming from an unexpected source. Makes me think you've been holding back on your sarcastic abilities all these years. It might make this trip tolerable if you were to come out of your shell.”

  My comment drew a scowl.

  Frig took an immediate interest in the puzzle. “Sir, do you know what this is?”

  I replied as I walked back into the hold, “Not a clue; haven't looked at it since I was a kid; was the last thing my father gave me before he left for the forty-second Milgari war.”

  I hesitated for a moment, thinking back on the time. A time when, once I was old enough, I would have
been all gung-ho to join the Marines. It was a time when I took pride in my father and the stories he told when a telecall came in from the ship he was stationed on. It was my last time seeing him alive before the cruiser's captain surrendered the ship during a battle, a battle that the Grid fleet was winning.

  The captain claimed a mutiny was underway and he had no choice but to surrender. He signed off and turned over the vessel, with its eight hundred crewmen and twelve thousand Marines, to the enemy. A war that we were winning suddenly turned in favor of our enemy. The crew of the Tantilis, and my father, were never heard from again.

  Rumors had run rampant at the time. All who had been on the ship had been placed under suspicion. The puzzle sat idle in my room for the ten years it took me to reach adulthood. With the loss of my father and the teasing it brought with his name under suspicion, it was a difficult time in my life.

  To compound my issues, when I was eighteen years of age, my mother fell ill to a virus brought aboard the Grid by a traveler. I had been without family ever since.

  Frig said, “Sir, this is not a puzzle. It's an encryption cube. And the coding on the encryption is well above the current military grade. The message this contains must have been one of critical importance. The meager computers on this vessel, and even the one on the Swift, do not have the cycles required to decrypt this message. Since your father entrusted you with this just before his final departure, it may have something to do with why the Tantilis surrendered.”

  I brooded in thought over the object for several seconds. “I've carried that small cube around with me for twenty-three years. It's the only thing I have remaining of my father. Not sure why I kept it, as I have never had any compulsion to figure it out. If you think it can be cracked, then by all means have at it. But whatever you find, please keep it to yourself. It's not something I have any interest in.”

  The gaze coming from Frig made me uncomfortable. I turned and headed back into the hold to rummage through my gear. A deck of cards was soon removed and spread on the hold floor for a game of solitaire. It was a game that had been passed down from generation to generation. A game that was timeless when it came to passing time.

  I had always been curious as to the game's beginnings. There was no evidence of kings or queens in the history of Humans contained in the Grid archives. I reasoned that perhaps it had been from some distant past, as the figures on the cards were Human. As I flipped the first card, it came up an ace. I nodded my head and smiled as I continued.

  The flight out to Marsoon was long and boring. When we arrived at the beta port, I made a beeline to the local dive and ordered a tall brew. The Soonian barkeep had a sheepish grin on his face as I downed my first pint.

  “Good, yes? I speak some Human. It not best, but we try. If you have interest, I can make date for you with Brissa. She my sister. She give you good fun.”

  I hesitated to have a look at what was being offered, but was overcome with curiosity. The Soonians had long faces that resembled that of a horse—we had been shown a drawing of a horse from the Grid archives in grade school. I took a deep breath as I turned to look.

  The Soonians had wide nostrils that flared as they spoke. They had long arms and a torso that was shaped like the Gnarish pumpkins grown back in the food labs on the Grid. Their body features, and their smell, were anything but attractive to most Humans. It seemed however, that there were always an indiscriminate few who would... well...

  I kindly declined his offer and then pulled Frig up beside me as he came into the bar. “This is my engineer, and I think he has a fancy for Soonians. Perhaps your sister can show him a good time?”

  With that, I grabbed my beer and walked toward a booth with a smile. Frig was a gentleman; he was polite and courteous to everyone he met. But he had pulled a similar stunt on me more than once, and it was time for payback.

  The barkeep signaled to his sister, who came over immediately to shower Frig with affection. As I ordered my third round from a waitress, Frig glanced in my direction with a dirty look on his face. Dirty looks were difficult for a Gambit to manage. Frig had given it his best effort. Just as he was about to break away from his new love, Ashley Elizabeth entered the bar and stepped up to his rescue.

  The barkeep quickly waved off his sister’s affections as he noticed the blaster pistol on Ashley's hip. I suddenly had a newfound respect for my employer as she escorted Frig to the booth I occupied.

  Ashley said, “I believe you left your friend in a bit of a difficult situation. The affections of a Soonian are not easily pushed away. They are quite persistent when it comes to business.”

  She turned to look at Frig. “I would recommend you speak up a bit more forcefully, preferably at the beginning of the conversation, if you are not interested. The Soonians are strictly business, and will quickly move on to the next prospect without taking offense.

  “And Mr. Grange, I hope that drink you ordered will be your last. I have another package for you to deliver back to the Grid. If you should accept, your first contract will be designated as fulfilled with a high recommendation. The return package is worth 1,100 credits, if you are interested.”

  I replied, “I have to ask why you paid me to deliver a package and then you show up here at the same time. What am I not seeing?”

  Ashley smiled, “I had a prior engagement that was canceled at the last minute. You had already left with the package, so I decided to follow for a visit with my friend.”

  I shook my head. “Not that I was ever one to turn down contracts, but I now have to ask why you can't run this package back yourself?”

  Ashley again smiled, “The package is of a time sensitive nature and I may be delayed here for a day or two. If you aren't interested, I can find another Messenger who is.”

  I thanked Ashley, transferred the new contract to my credit store, paid for the drinks and headed back to the Mobi. The flight back to the Grid was again long and boring.

  Upon arrival, I again made my way to Jasper's with Frig in tow for a much-needed break. We would wait for another contract from Ashley. A new contract did not come. After sitting idle for two weeks, I had to again take matters into my own hands.

  Michael Felix entered the bar. “Mr. Grange, imagine my surprise to find you in a bar. I understand you are still having a bit of ship trouble? You know, there is always a place for you in my employ.”

  Felix leaned in close. “I have a side business, you know. I manage three ships that are used for hauling refuse. I would think a man of your reputation and skill set would be wonderfully suited to piloting a garbage scow. Perhaps your little green friend here could keep a ship of that stature running for you, even if he could not accomplish that with your own.”

  Felix bellowed out a loud laugh as he walked to a private table with two of his henchmen in following close behind. As much as I hated his guts, I knew that my best chance for a quick recovery of the Swift was through a deal with Felix. He had the means to get us to the Swift with a load of parts for her repair. The question was only one of what would he require in return. I had a deal in mind.

  I stood and walked toward Felix's table with a smile on my face. “What do you want, Grange? You do realize the garbage scow offer was a joke, don't you? I have no desire to have you in my employ.”

  I placed both hands flat on the table. His henchmen began to move toward me when Felix raised his hand.

  “Let him speak. I'm sure whatever he has to say will be short. Then he’ll move on to whatever trivial task he has planned for his evening.”

  I nodded at the henchmen with a smirk. “I may have an offer for you, Felix. It involves the trade of some technology that I believe you will find quite interesting. In exchange, all I require is passage out to my stranded ship for me and my engineer, along with a load of parts for her repair. And I can assure you the technology I have to offer would be well worth your time.”

  Felix thought for a moment before he replied. “I'm not sure how to take that, Mr. Grange. The on
ly offer of a deal I would have expected from you would be one of a blaster butt to the back of my head. A bit more information on this ‘technology’ would be helpful to build confidence in whatever scheme it is you have been cooking up.”

  I nodded, and asked that his henchmen leave the table. The conversation I had in mind was only for his ears. Underlings in his employ tended to be gossips. If word of the EID’s existence got around, I was sure that I would soon have a visit from SCore.

  When the henchmen had moved to the bar, I gave the details of my offer. “I've come across a technology, a drive technology that could possibly give you one of the fastest, if not the fastest, ship in the galaxy. Does that pique your interest?”

  Felix nodded and swirled his hand in a gesture for me to continue.

  “I came by this tech through a Durian connection some time back. Frig and I have done some minor tests on it, and I can vouch for its validity. Unfortunately, before we had a chance to implement it in any meaningful way, we were attacked by pirates. The Swift now sits idle on a moon and I do not have the means to rescue her on my own.”

  Felix tilted his head and then asked a new question. “And why should I trust the one man who has been a thorn in my side for as long as I've known of him? For all I know, this is just some elaborate trap you have set up to take me out of the picture; perhaps to sell me into slavery?”

  I leaned back in my chair with a smug look on my face. “Sell you into slavery... I like that. You can take it or leave it, Felix. The only proof I have is my word, and I can tell you this... you would not be sorry. Just think for a moment about what it would mean to your business if you could... let's say... outrun a Grid Falcon, or perhaps a Delta Runner. I have a hard time believing that avoiding unwanted searches does not interest you. If you are uncomfortable, or feeling threatened, you can bring your friends over there with you. Frig and I will be happy to travel unarmed.”

  Felix slowly sat back in his chair. I could almost see the little gears in his head turning.

  Felix clasped his hands together. “You said you acquired this information from a Durian?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Felix continued, “And just how fast a drive are we talking about, Mr. Grange? Two hundred SOL?”

  I again leaned in. “Two hundred SOL... plus!”

  Felix sighed. “Spell out your terms in their entirety, Mr. Grange. I will take them into consideration. And if I find them agreeable, you will have your ride. But let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you intend to screw me on this deal in any way, unintentionally or not, I will personally feed your liver, kidneys, and spleen to a Rishak vulture, and they will still be attached and internal to your body at the time.”

  The next hour was spent hashing out the details of the contract. Felix continued to be a stickler, making sure he had all the i's dotted and t's crossed.

  When he had finally run out of questions concerning the intended voyage, he stood and gestured to his henchmen. “I will be evaluating the details, Mr. Grange. I will let you know my decision in three days.”

  I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Three days? I'll let you know, I've made this offer to two other pilots and should be hearing from them by tomorrow at the latest.”

  Felix looked at me and again bellowed with laughter. “Please, Mr. Grange. You came to me because there is not another soul on this ship that would even consider such an offer from you. As part of my consideration, I am taking in the audacity of your request. You will have my decision in three days, no less.”

  Felix smiled and continued to laugh heartily as he left Jasper's with his henchmen in tow.

  Frig joined me at Felix's table. “Sir, I cannot say that I am comfortable with the long conversation you had with Captain Felix. Is there something I should be informed about? Sir?”

  As I told of my offer to Felix, Frig had an apprehensive look on his face. Felix was a shark, and we were swimming in his waters.

  “Sir, I understand your eagerness to get the Swift back online. But is it really wise to be dealing with the likes of Michael Felix?”

  I ordered another round from the waitress and casually asked her to add it to Felix's tab. “We have to get that ship back before salvagers get a hold of her. She may be under our names on the Grid registration, but the rest of the galaxy doesn't play by the same rules. If we were to lose her, with all the work we have done, it will take us ten years just to get back to where we were. We need to get back out there and we need to do it now.”

  On the third day, Michael Felix returned to Jasper's with his answer. Frig and I would be flown to the location of the Swift along with the parts we needed for repairs. Upon arrival, Felix would be given a copy of the EID technology, which I was carrying on my person. Frig had taken the time to make a few minor alterations that would limit the speed benefit to Felix, but he would still have his prize of being one of the fastest ships in the known galaxy. A prize for which he was willing to deal with the devil.