AMP Messenger

by Stephen Arseneault

  Chapter 14

  _______________________

  I returned to the doctor the following day for a final checkup. Once he was done looking over his work, I was invited to lunch. We talked through the afternoon. I don't know why, but I felt a kinship with George Parlo. Before I knew it, I was telling him about the admiral and the coming war, about our encounters with the pirates, and of the destruction of the massive ion cannon. He soaked up the stories as fast as I could tell them.

  The doctor then confided in me that he had amassed a tremendous number of credits during his time as a surgeon. On Bullwort, he was little more than a country doctor, often providing his services to those in need who could not pay. Credits were of no interest to him, as he already had enough to last several lifetimes. What he sought, and what I had to offer, was adventure, a chance to live, a chance to make a difference.

  By the end of our discussion I had confided in George Parlo about our mining strategy. He was quickly on board, offering loans for whatever equipment we would require.

  “Just say the word, Rex. I'll provide the credits for whatever we need.”

  I took note of his use of “we.” George had found his adventure and was ready to jump in headfirst.

  I returned to the Swift and an excited Frig. “Sir, I continued the scans from gemstones and proceeded on to valuable minerals. It seems, at a distance of about eighty kilometers from here, three kilometers deep, there is a rather large deposit of Tantric ore. It appears to be high grade, sir. A deposit that size would easily cover the ships of several fleets. I believe our mining business is going to pay an early dividend, sir.”

  I looked over the data and had to admit it was an impressive find. The ore vein was nearly half a kilometer across and stretched four kilometers further into the planet, heading away from us. It was possible the vein continued farther, as at that depth and distance our sensors struggled to identify the materials encountered. A flyover with the Swift would clear up any doubts.

  The news of Tantric ore was huge. It was a commodity in high demand and short supply. We would need equipment to first extract and then refine the ore before offering it for sale. A shipment like one of those that we had delivered to the admiral would fetch nearly five million credits on the ore market. In the coming months we would need a plan for its distribution as well. A new source of Tantric was sure to attract attention, attention that we did not want.

  During our planning stage, we made several trips to the closest systems where mining gear could be acquired. George financed the operation through a system of bank transfers that would be difficult for any professional outfit to follow. He had spent years moving his credits around so as to keep his enemies unaware of his location. I quickly entrusted George with the handling of transfers and payments for our product. His years of dealing with high-end clientele had given him the business acumen that I lacked.

  With George's help, we acquired several top-of-the-line laser drills. We soon had a seven-kilometer-long tracked tunnel going from a construction shack on the surface to the beginning of the ore vein. It was accomplished after only forty days of drilling. Frig programmed an automated cart to make continuous runs down to the vein.

  A set of automated sonic scrapers mined the ore without needing our direct supervision. Once the system was set up, all we had to do was sit back and begin the refinement process. Our Tantric operation was soon producing a refined ore of the highest quality.

  With the proper tools and a skilled Tantric craftsman, we would be able to apply the plating directly to the hull of any ship. Tantric was very malleable until a dense electric charge was applied. The charge worked to align the ore molecules into a lattice structure that resisted change, making it extremely rigid and difficult to damage. George continued to contribute by suggesting the name of a local craftsman, Gyves Multifal. He had left a high-paying job due to gambling debts that he could not repay. After a short discussion, Gyves Multifal—we called him Gy—was eager to join our adventure.

  Gy had been on the run for nearly twenty years. The gambling cartel to which he was beholden spanned eighteen star systems. It had close ties to many politicians and police forces, making it more powerful than many governments. Gy had run up a debt of nearly two million credits before disappearing from sight. His low-profile life on Bullwort had been anything but comfortable. The suggestion of an opportunity to once again ply his trade was all it took to get him on board.

  When our first twenty kilograms of Tantric had been refined to application quality, I had Gy do an evaluation of the Swift.

  “Wow, a Blevin. Last time I saw one of those was early in my career. Shame, too, the Blevin has a solid hull, and can take a beating. Most fleets got away from the fighter concept during that time, opting instead for ever-bigger ships. With just an initial look, I'm betting I can at least double her capacity to take a hit. Add in a high-velocity impact dampener, and she'll be one tough bird.”

  I placed my hand on Gy's shoulder. “Use as much of this stuff as you want. Make her as impenetrable as you can. She's already a beast. We've taken a number of hits from a Milgari battle cannon and survived. Not by much, mind you, but how many ships can say that?”

  Gy continued to look her over. “I think we can add at least an inch of armor to most of the hull. And if we can acquire some aquamarine, I can layer it in, adding a full level of charge dissipation to her. Yeah, I like what I'm seeing here, Boss. I'll need about three months to do the work. When I'm done with her, she'll be able to take on a Milgari battleship dead on.”

  As Gy worked on the Swift's hull, I filled him in on our other enhancements: our EID addition to the engines and our full-strength ion cannon. He was impressed with what he heard and saw.

  “If the Milgari are coming as you say, I would love to have a dozen of these Blevins. With these modifications to take into battle, you could pretty much ignore everything but the biggest of their ships.”

  Gy rubbed his hand across the Swift's hull. “I'm betting that mega-station they have constructed probably can't put up much of a fight on its own. No mobility in something that large.”

  As I continued to talk with Gy, I made mention of the negative ion bomb the Gresshans had used to immobilize the Swift. “We were dead flat, flared out. If not for a bit of luck, we would have been taken captive and pushed into some mining pit somewhere until we were used up. That captain didn't see us coming, though, and made some big mistakes. Got anything that will neutralize those effects?”

  Gy stopped his work and looked up at the hangar ceiling before looking back. “I don't know squat about ions other than the basics, but I know somebody who does back on Marcon. At least that's where she was when I... departed. Once we get this baby plated and flying again, I say we register the Swift under a Bullworti flag and make a run to Marcon to see if we can find her.

  “She was a hoot, that one. I had trouble keeping up with her when we went out bar hoppin'. She liked to get into it with other patrons, too. She sure could dish it out. Never once saw her get her ass kicked. But that was a long time ago. Sorry if I'm running on. I just think she would be able to help. She knew her ionics.”

  George had a small personal flier that he used to occasionally go off world. We added an EID to his ship, boosting its top speed to nearly 280 SOL. As we continued to mine, he departed on a three-week tour in an effort to gauge the marketplace for our growing stockpile of Tantric ore. He now had the added task of attempting to locate Gy's friend, Ritari Harfist.

  I assisted Gy with the Tantric plating on the Swift as Frig managed the mining and refinement operation. Gy began to tell of the warships he had worked on and the battles in which they had fought. I stopped him when he mentioned the Tantilis.

  “Yeah, I did most of her bridge plating myself. She was a fine ship, that one. Such a shame to have gone astray like that. I mean, the whole crew committing mutiny and then turning her over to the Milgari? It just didn't make sense.”

  I stepped in with my tho
ughts on the subject. “Yeah, well, sometimes people aren't who you think they are. My father was on that ship. I've never been able to accept the explanation that was given as to its surrender. But the evidence that was supplied at the time was pretty convincing. Not sure I want to know the truth, though, as it might only confirm what others have said.”

  Gy placed his hand on my shoulder. “Rex, I got to know a lot of the crewmen on that boat. And if it’s any consolation to you, I never believed for a second that they surrendered willingly. Too many good people on there for that. The crew I knew would have fought to the death before giving up. Yeah... I always thought that mutiny explanation was fishy.”

  Gy crossed his arms. “You know, I never repeated this to anyone, but the Tantilis was on a mission to punch a hole through the Milgari supply lines. Would have set them back decades trying to rebuild a new secure one. Just as with any army, they move on their belly. The Milgari aren't any different. They have to keep supplied.

  “I had a lady friend on board. She was in the Intel Corps. Before she left, she told me she was worried about word getting out to the Milgari through spies. I wondered why it was she was telling me so much if she was worried about security. You shouldn't be in that service if you can't keep your trap shut. Anyway, she said they suspected the Milgari spy network might have gotten wind of the operation. If so, it wasn't much more than a suicide run. Surrender was a shocker.”

  Gy continued with his talk of the Tantilis and other ships that he had worked on. It was an impressive array of vessels, all of which had exemplary battle records—except the surrender of the Tantilis. I had not thought deeply about my father and the Tantilis for many years. Our talk soon brought back a flood of memories, memories that took me to a happier place and time.

  George returned several days later with good news about his marketing efforts. The price of refined Tantric had nearly doubled since the admiral had begun the construction of his stealth fleet. The increase in price would only be helpful for our new business.

  George had also gained information on the whereabouts of Ritari Harfist. She had her own ionics business on Orcon, a place that George had no desire to visit. After a short pilot tutorial in George's flier, I departed for Orcon-3.

  Upon arrival, the planet was bustling with activity. I landed with Bullworti papers showing my identity as Gar Mimack, ore trader from a far sector. We took every precaution to cover our tracks back to Bullwort. If news of a Tantric find got out, the small planet would be swamped with prospectors searching for their fortunes. With my years of experience with the Messenger Service, I had no problem embellishing my cover with tales of my travels. I soon found myself walking into a small warehouse in the industrial district of the spaceport city of Freld.

  “Yes, I'm here to see Miss Harfist about a business venture. Is she available today?”

  The receptionist was a Tellis Manta, a species with one large eye in the center of her forehead. She squinted at me suspiciously before pressing a button on her desk. “Someone here to biz with you, Miss Harfist, a handsome fella named...”

  I scrambled for a card.

  “A fella named Mimack. Says he has business.”

  Ritari responded that she would be there shortly, and for the receptionist, Margerine, to assist me as I waited.

  The Manta opened her big eye wide and smiled. “While we are waiting, Mr. Mimack, is there anything I could do for you?”

  She began to bat the large eye at me in a flirtatious manner. The Manta were not picky about with whom they consorted. I, on the other hand... was.

  “Thank you, Margerine, I believe I will just be seated over here and await Miss Harfist. I have a bit of work I can do as I wait.”

  Margerine had a disappointed look on her face as her single eye returned to her paperwork. I sat and fumbled through a few loose papers in an attempt to show that I was busy. Ritari rounded the corner from her warehouse several minutes later.

  “Mr….”

  I greeted her as I rose. “Mr. Bu— excuse me, Gar Mimack. I'm here to talk with you about an ionics need my company has.”

  She gestured for me to follow. I was soon sitting in her office. Margerine brought in a hot cup of Orcon Gew for me to sip on as we talked.

  “I'll get right to the point, Miss Harfist. I have a need to protect my ship from a negative ion blast, something that will prevent a flare-out.”

  Ritari looked at me inquisitively. “A flare-out? I thought that issue was solved a century ago with the enlarged recombination chamber. You must be driving something really old to have that happen. Only ships still using the negative ion blast are a few scattered pirates. Only good to slow most ships for a few seconds at best. Haven't heard of a flare-out.”

  I nodded my head in agreement. “Yes, it’s not something you hear about. But let’s just say that my ship is a bit sensitive to negative ions. I am told you might be able to help. Does that sound like work you would be interested in?”

  Ritari leaned back in her chair and gestured with her hand. “Sure, what hangar are you parked in? I can go give you an estimate right now.”

  I pursed my lips and replied. “I'm afraid the ship in need is not located on this planet. This would be a consulting job off world. I do, however, have the financial backing to pay the standard rates for this work with a substantial bonus at the end, if it passes our quality assurance team's testing.”

  Ritari nodded. “Sure, I can have one of my techs go with you. Tech rates are an eight-hundred credit deposit and one hundred twenty-five credits per day. One hundred ten if it goes over ten days.”

  I again pursed my lips before responding. “Miss Harfist, my client’s interest is for your personal service. You have a reputation that my client commands. When I stated standard rates, my intent was your standard rate. Does this sound like something of interest to you?”

  Ritari stood and placed her hands on her desk. “I'm sorry, Mr. Mimack, but this old broad doesn't travel anymore. I have to stick close to home to keep this business running. I have regular clients that I service here on Orcon. If I were to go away for any period of time, it would put those contracts at risk. I do have competitors out there, Mr. Mimack. Nope, sorry, can't travel.”

  I had hoped to convince her of joining the team after showing her the operation, and, specifically, that her old friend Gy was involved. I stood and then leaned in close to her.

  She said, “I hope you aren't planning anything strange here, Mr. Mimack. I may be getting old, but I can still take care of myself if needed.”

  With a low voice, I told her: “Gyves Multifal sent me, Miss Harfist. We are desperately in need of your service, and I can assure you, the payout from your assistance will be far greater than what you earn here. If you are still not interested, I ask that you please forget that you ever heard the name I mentioned. There are those who are still unhappy with him.”

  Ritari sat up straight and replied with a soft voice, just above a whisper. “I haven't heard that name in many years, Mr. Mimack. Had you said anyone but him, I would have laughed in your face. If Gy is looking for my help... well, I'll need to tidy up a few things here first, but I can leave with you this afternoon if you're ready. How long do you think it will be for?”

  I looked Ritari in the eye with a stern face. “Permanent, if your work is as good as he says. We are in desperate need of your help, Miss Harfist. Gy could not recommend anyone else more highly. And we have the credits needed to back whatever work is required. You will be handsomely paid for your efforts.”

  She nodded and gave a time of four hours. We were to meet at the hangar where the flier was parked. She showed up on time, packed light and wearing an old flight suit. We departed shortly thereafter.

  On the ride back to Bullwort, Ritari talked about her business. “I've barely been scratching out a living here the last few years. Too many drives now come with tuning programs on the ship's computer. That has cut deep into my profits. I have a competitor who's been badgering me for
years to sell out to him. Maybe I'll take him up on it, although I'm not sure what I would do after that. That place keeps me busy, which keeps me out of trouble.”

  She grinned sheepishly.

  I had only implied to Ritari that Gy was involved in something big and was in need of her help. It was time to come clean.

  “Let me fill you in on exactly what we need. We have a ship. We were recently in a fight with some pirates and they used a negative ion bomb on us, flaring out our engine in the middle of a nasty fight. We barely escaped. We need you to fix our ship so that issue won't happen again. Gy is currently working on extra shielding for us and brought up your name. If you decide to join the team, which I believe you will, you will find it very profitable.”

  She requested that I call her Rita. It was a name that fit her friendly but dominating personality.

  “Yeah, Gy and I had some good times. The only thing that ever irked me about him was his addiction to gambling. He always had to play against the odds, even when those odds were insanely against him. He was a dead man if they caught him. They still send people snooping around looking for him. Not sure how much he was in for, but it must have stung when he up and left.”

  As we touched down in Roswell, Rita spoke her mind. “Bullwort? Who named it that? I guess if Gy was looking for an out-of-the-way place, he found one here. Most of us refer to this sector as the dead zone. Not much out here in the way of population or promise.”

  We stepped out of the hatch of George's flier onto the tarmac. I escorted Rita into hangar 4, closing and locking the door behind me.

  “This is one part of our operation,” I said, “the part for which we need your services. Our ship, the Swift, is an old—”

  Rita cut in. "Blevin-class, yeah, I know them. Had one myself one time. Wish I never sold it. It was a good, solid vessel in its day. Construction techniques have changed several times since these were mainline. Everything built now is cheap and weak. Someone had the idea they could save a lot of credits and have a lot more ships by doing that. It's one of the reasons they abandoned fighters on the Grid. They were sending too many young, valuable pilots to their death.”

  Gy then stepped out of the rear hatch on the Swift. “Rita? Come here! Give Gy some love!”

  Gy ran over to give Rita a bear hug. “Wow, are you ever a sight for sore eyes! We're going to have to hit the pub in a bit to get caught up!”

  Rita replied, “As much fun as that sounds, I'm afraid you might be disappointed. Since you left, I quit drinking. Just wasn't the same without my cohort in crime. But I would be more than happy to catch up.”

  I left Rita and Gy to get reacquainted while I checked on Frig. I walked into our small warehouse to a Frig who was happily engaged in his work.

  “Sir. Good. I’m glad you are here. Were you able to find Gy's friend?”

  I nodded. “She was right where he left her. She’s over in hangar 4 with him now. I think we can convince her to stay.”

  Frig punched several keys on his screen. “This is a graph of our production. I have been tweaking the scrapers and haulers, and I believe they are now working at their optimum level. Our production has accelerated a bit, sir. I have supplied Gy with all the Tantric he has requested, and our stockpile is quickly building. We should have the first load ready for sale in a few weeks. I am becoming curious as to what we are going to spend our first fifty million credits on, sir. A larger ore hauler, perhaps? I think I can easily produce more than the Swift can transport.”

  The progress of our little business was moving forward at a pace that I had not anticipated. We would soon be rolling in credits and flying a ship that was second to none. I began to think about what Gy had said about having a small fleet of Blevins. There had to be other hulls still in service or perhaps stored as scrap. I would have George spend his time between marketing stops looking for more of the Defenders. My new task would be to find crews to fly them.

  Gy filled Rita in on our business. She accepted a small share of the partnership immediately. I asked Frig to give her a tour of the Swift's systems, and most notably her drives.

  Rita was quickly fascinated by what she saw. “That is pure genius. Forget the Tantric armor. You could make a fortune off of this drive alone. Ho, ho! There are some big players out there that would kill to have the speed you have here. What is it, double? 275... 280 SOL?”

  Gy smiled and pointed upwards.

  Frig replied, “This is a technology that we cannot allow others to have. If the Milgari were to acquire it, we would lose the advantage it offers, and their attacks on the Grid would increase in frequency. The speed of that station is fixed. Drives that allow the Milgari to catch up would very much work against a free Grid.”

  Frig continued, “No, we cannot sell this technology, as it would only serve to doom us all. It has already been given away to more than it should have been. I only hope it will never be used against us.”

  Rita nodded. “Didn't intend to ruffle any feathers there, was just making a statement. I agree with everything you said, though. This is not something we want in the hands of our enemies. We've had a tough enough time as it is.”

  I was glad to see our new team members were not butting heads. We had much to accomplish, and war was growing ever closer. Bullwort would not be the first place to be attacked if and when war came, but it would not be the last. The remainder of the day was spent in discussion of what we planned to do.