by Ginger Booth
“Sagamore has more water than Mahina?” Eli inquired.
The pirate threw up fingers to indicate their surroundings. “Ice rocks. They say the rings were once an entire ice moon, or maybe two, shattered. Each time we visit Sagamore, we throw down some ice. The moon has a section geologically stabilized for bombardment.” He added to Sass, “In addition to the mine products. Volume for volume. The lifeblood of water doesn’t count.”
“Wholly unfair,” Sass agreed. She saw his point. In fact, she intended to see everything from his point of view. Good cop, bad cop. She and Clay had played the roles thousands of times.
She frowned. “Salt water? For the seaweed? Doesn’t that harm the rice?”
“Ah, there was a great accident with the seed stock,” Lavelle shared. “Not long after the – you call them ‘settlers’ – arrived. Some say accident, some sabotage. Salt water fish, paired with salt-tolerant rice, were intended only for variety before then. This rice was developed for some drowned rice-eating culture on Earth.”
“Indian subcontinent,” Eli supplied. “Possibly China. Fascinating.”
The pirate captain frowned at him slightly, as though puzzled.
Sass interjected smoothly, “You must excuse Eli and me. Crazy for plants. You must show us the aquaponics. But which way first? Drop off our star drive team? I do hope we get to meet Captain Burgeron. No, Foreman.” She touched his arm to credit him for correcting her on the title, a subtle flattery.
“This way.”
He led through a few corridors on a straightforward and well-labeled radial floor plan. Main intersections supplied helpful ‘you are here’ schematics. No one in the rings of Pono built for defense, that was clear. Sass studied both maps and people. Hallucinogenics were definitely strong in the mix, but several other drugs were in use as well. Strange how well she remembered the symptoms. Aside from marijuana and alcohol, recreational drugs were rare on Mahina.
Demand was sky-high, especially among settlers. But the scrubber nanites proved highly effective at cleaning the human body of the progression of drug addiction, leaving only the underlying emotional issues for treatment. After atmosphere, Clay gave her carte blanche to set up the drug treatment operation.
Funny, she’d known Clay a dozen years by that point. But only then did she tell him about her son Paul and his death to addiction. He made her promise to spend no more than two work hours a day on the project. Then he let it slide for a few months before he reminded her to hire someone else to run the program.
Nowadays sufferers were sentenced to a month at a facility at Mahina Actual or a satellite center. Urb undergrads in psychology practiced on the patients, as a first internship before they were entrusted in law enforcement or child care. Sass was pleased. There were still drugs, and alcohol aplenty. But the disease was truly arrested and reset on Mahina.
Not here, though. And she wondered if Mahina’s approach would be effective against the damned feelie VR at Mahina Orbital. Immersive porn diseased the imagination.
They didn’t pass many people in the halls. One was so shocked he fell to the floor. A group of miners, sober unlike the rest, pulled against the wall to let them pass. One of those split off at a trot after hasty whispers with another. Sass’s group was certainly riveting attention. She didn’t spot any other women.
In a few minutes, they reached the engineering lab. Seitz clearly fell in love at first sight. The container of star drives to be recycled from Mahina Orbital stood waiting for them. No lackadaisical swabbing here. The space was immaculate. Sass found its bounty of meters and cables intimidating as hell, beeping and white and lights and lab coats in a pervasive stench of ozone. But Eli seemed to approve.
The MO guards looked concerned. “The techs look old,” Cortez said.
Sass chuckled. “They age normally, I think. You, Pierre, I’m guessing…39?”
“Yes, I’m quite enjoying 39,” he agreed with a self-effacing grin. “I’m sticking with it for a few more years.”
“Wow,” said Cortez.
Sass wondered how old Cortez was. By her looks, the urb could be anywhere between 25 and 75. But she guessed all four urbs to be around the same age as Lavelle.
A white-haired engineer, in psychedelic T-shirt and clean lab coat, scurried eagerly to greet them. “Seitz! Welcome! Oh, welcome, dear boy!” He picked the correct guy and folded him in a warm embrace.
I was set up, Sass realized sadly. Again.
“And you must be Captain Collier!” The man, pupils dilated behind pink tinted lens, grasped Sass’s hands in both of his, then air-kissed over each of her cheeks. His name tag proclaimed him Dr. Arbus. Which was good, because he forgot to introduce himself, and Lavelle didn’t bother. “A woman. How lovely! You smell nice!” He sniffed her and the others.
Sass stepped back beside Lavelle. “Is he always this stoned?” she murmured to him.
“Yes, very much so,” the pirate replied, eyes alight. “He’s harmless. Your man Seitz will be fine.”
“Come this way, dear boy. I have a room made up for you!”
“He’s coming back to the Thrive with us,” Sass insisted. “Isn’t he, Pierre?” She let the name roll from her tongue, hoping she didn’t lay it on too thick.
“No, Sass,” Seitz answered instead. “I’m sorry. I was ordered not to tell you. Master Chief Pollan needed a volunteer. One-way trip. I said yes.”
“You will not regret it,” Arbus vowed, hand over his heart. “I will teach you everything I know! You will be honored among men! A prince of engineers!”
Sass chuckled. She didn’t have to approve of drugs to enjoy people acting like idiots. Indeed, as a cop she was a connoisseur. This station grew some good weed.
“Why, Seitz?” she asked the younger engineer. “Are you sure?”
“Dr. Arbus is the only one in the solar system who can recharge star drives,” he replied. “We can’t let the knowledge die with him. We should’ve had dozens of people all along who knew. But one blew in Mahina Actual 30 years ago, and took out the masters and apprentices, all our materials. Only Sagamore could replace them. Eventually I could go back to MU and teach others. Or maybe just stay here. Please, captain, understand – MO was hell for me.”
“You never belonged there,” Griffith said huskily.
Sass got the feeling he didn’t mean Seitz’s social adjustment. “May I ask, Seitz, why you were sent to MO?”
“My boss was accused of a crime. He asked me to cover for him,” Seitz said to his shoes. “He was guilty. But they gave him community service, because he was too valuable. But MO doesn’t have an engineer, just the master chief. So I was sentenced to replace him. For perjury.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sass breathed. “Pollan must have been heartbroken.”
“Pollan told me to come,” Seitz refuted this. “Said it was a better deal than he ever got. Dr. Arbus would treat me well. And he said if I didn’t, the hellbellies would take Copeland. That wouldn’t help anybody. Copeland would refuse to do a damned thing for them. He’d get home to his kid or die trying. Nobody ever felt that way about me. Sagamore doesn’t train engineers anymore. I’m the best choice for this.”
Dr. Arbus let him speak his piece, then clasped him around the shoulders, tears dribbling from his eyes. “That was beautiful. I hope to earn that kind of devotion from you, dear Seitz. May I call you Roger?”
“Please don’t.”
“You’re right of course,” Arbus soothed. “We must work up to that intimacy.”
Seitz sighed. “Anyway. It’s a career opportunity. And I haven’t seen much yet, but…”
“It beats hell out of Mahina Orbital,” Eli finished his thought.
“True,” Sass conceded. “Thank you for your service to Mahina, Seitz. I’m proud of you. Especially the part where you provide me at least one star drive to pay for the ride, and six for MO?” she reminded him, and the stoned doctor of engineering.
“Of course! Well, maybe!” Arbus failed to assure her. �
�I’m not sure how many of these can be recharged. But we’ll do our best! Soon. Maybe after lunch. I like to nap before lunch. Do you nap, Roger?”
“No. Don’t call me Roger.”
“I’m staying too, cap,” Griffith said. “Protect him. He needs backup. If you want, Seitz.”
“I would like that. Thank you, Griffith. That means a lot to me.”
“And me,” Cortez stated.
Arbus recoiled. “Oh, no. Pierre, that – no.”
“We’ll see,” Lavelle said shortly. “You can help him unpack for now. Let’s move on.”
“Pierre!” Arbus begged.
“Doctor,” the pirate acknowledged. “Sass, we’ll come back for Cortez later.” He and his guards herded Sass and Eli toward the door.
Before they reached it, another man burst through. Behind him, armed guards thronged the hall.
“Pierre, are you insane?” the newcomer demanded. “Women? On my ship? Sacrebleu!” He pointed accusingly at Cortez and Sass in turn. “Get them the hell out of here! Guards!”
Lavelle quirked a lip. “Captain Sass Collier, Foreman Elliot Burgeron. LB.”
“Charmed,” Sass assured him.
“OFF!” Burgeron replied. “NOW!”
The pirate attempted, “LB, perhaps we could discuss this privately.”
Sass couldn’t follow the rapid-fire abuse in French between the two men, Lavelle amused, Burgeron apoplectic. She caught the gist, though. OFF!
As they marched back to the shuttle, Eli complained, “I really did want to see the aquaponics.”
“That’s alright,” Sass consoled him. “I really did want to make sure Cortez got back to our ship. Meeting Burgeron was a nice bonus.”
Burgeron shot her a glare over his shoulder.
34
Sagamore relied on asteroid mines from the beginning, due to agricultural inputs that were easy to glean from Pono’s rings, but hard to refine from the moon’s surface.
“Thank you, Jules,” Sass purred, as the teenager clunked a bowl of soup in front of Lavelle. The two of them were dining privately before the crew supper. Except there was nothing private about the Thrive’s galley. Jules was fixing dinner for everyone else, Wilder assisting.
The table glowed warm with candles. The kitchen work lights blazed forth in harsh white. Sass’s intent for an intimate dinner wasn’t going well.
Jules sloshed hot soup into Sass’s lap with her bowl. “Oopsie!” The girl hid her mouth behind crossed hands and hooted like a donkey bray. She turned and clomped back toward the kitchen, shoulders forward, arms dangling low.
In a sudden flurry of hyper-sharp knife chucks, Wilder made quick work of three sliced onions. Surprised by the knives in mid-spoonful, Lavelle spilled soup on his shirt as well.
He and Sass mopped off.
“Very kind of you, to hire her,” Lavelle suggested, trying manfully to look amused.
“Jules is very talented,” Sass assured him. “In her own way.” That way didn’t appear to include acting talent. “The settlers of Sagamore, tell me about them. Are they well? Healthy?”
“Not very well fed,” Lavelle replied. “The servants, they work for rich households, get plenty of air and food. They look much like you and I. But the few times I visited the farm tunnels, it was sad. They are punished with air loss. And sometimes it isn’t punishment. Moon quakes, a seal fails or cracks. The damage compounds. Thin, weak, tiny, uneducated. Fearful.”
“But they rebel?”
“Not often. No, it is the children of the wealthy and the servants who rebel. We think of the unfortunates, of course. But, they are grown. As a youth, wild-eyed and idealistic, I think we shall set them all free! We shall be heroes! But now I think that would be cruel. We could only start a new generation to live better. The adults, they are like children forever. We must care for them.”
Sass rolled her wine-glass along her lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could bring a few back to Mahina. See if the doctors believe they could be rehabilitated. Fed and trained.”
Lavelle smiled warmly. “Who said you were going back to Mahina?”
Sass leaned forward, attempting to show cleavage. “I did! Pierre, you don’t want to keep us here. Especially not the women. You want us to go back to Mahina. And make you very rich. And very comfortable.”
“Ah! The counter-offer!” Lavelle leaned back and saluted her with his own goblet. “This I shall enjoy very much!” He didn’t mean the salad, although Jules delivered its metal bowl with a toss that set it ringing like a bell. And again with the donkey bray.
“I find that a little unnerving,” he admitted quietly.
“Yes, Wilder,” Sass called. “Perhaps you could serve. So Jules can focus on supper.”
“Sar,” Wilder acknowledged, and juggled his knife into the air. Sass wondered if he worked in Mahina Actual’s hibachi steak house before his exile to MO – soy steak, of course.
Where was I? Sass leaned forward again intimately. “You have needs. Fair trade for your goods. Food supplies, medical. Perhaps a planetary base, so your people could have families.”
“Hm.” The pirate’s eyes danced. “And in return, I give up a second spaceship? There are advantages to two spaceships.”
“Well, yes, if you want to fight for a living,” Sass conceded. “But do you?”
Lavelle took a deep breath, and sighed. “My concern is Sagamore, not Mahina.”
“Perhaps if your needs were met on Mahina, and you stopped visiting Sagamore for a while, Sagamore would become more negotiable.” He wasn’t buying her proposal, so Sass sat back and switched tracks. “Tell me about the power on Sagamore. You are from a wealthy family?”
“My sire and dam are among the most powerful,” he agreed, and laughed. “This does not make me important! They had 17 children. I was a bad egg. They left me in the creche. No palace for me.”
“That must be aggravating.”
“Not really. I don’t like them either. But Lavelle, it is an important name on Sagamore. I think you should not confuse the wealthy of Dome with your ‘urbs’ in Mahina Actual.” That was the capital, Sagamore Dome. “Your urbs are scientists, yes? A meritocracy. Dome is about wealth and power.” He tried to look self-righteous, but his expression appeared more sad than angry.
“They have defenses?” Sass asked practically.
“But of course. Against meteors. The atmosphere is thin. Some oxygen. Not enough to breathe. Or to burn up the meteors. The guns work on our ships as well.”
“We are willing to cooperate,” Sass stated. Behind them, Wilder coughed and Jules clanged another metal bowl. “We need to retrieve this researcher Dr. Carruthers and return her to Mahina Orbital. The revived star drives as well. What is it that you want Thrive to do, Pierre?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to believe that you will cooperate?”
“To a point,” Sass allowed. “What I need is to get my ship and crew back to Mahina Orbital. With prizes. Safely. I am happy to ensure you also find the trip profitable.” She sipped her beer.
Wilder let loose with another flurry of knife chops which sent shredded lettuce flying.
“Your crew maybe thinks you have betrayed them,” the pirate suggested.
“I’ve been busy today with you,” Sass defended. “I’ll soothe their feathers later. But tell me. How do we get past the guns of Sagamore and get what we want? Without my ship and crew getting hurt?”
His eyes narrowed, but he relented and told her his plan to assault the moon.
“I don’t understand,” she confessed. “Why?”
“There will be a coordinated attack inside Dome. My sire will not survive.”
That was unfortunate, Sass reflected. He was still intent on fixing Sagamore. “I joined a rebellion once.”
“Captain,” Wilder interrupted, “if you’re done with dinner, we need to set up to feed the crew and the goons.”
She rose and laid a hand on Lavelle’s arm. “Two days? We’ll talk more, Pierre.
Perhaps dinner tomorrow in my cabin?”
“I look forward to it, dear lady.” He had the gall to kiss her hand.
Sass smiled warmly. Tripping him into bed would be fun.
Getting him to give up his dreams of revolution would not be easy.
Sass summoned the remaining crew to mid-hold after dinner, leaving the kitchen to their captors. She tried to catch their eyes, each in turn. Most of their eyes slid away in disapproval.
Abel slipped her a note on a scrap of paper. They were under surveillance from the ship’s cameras.
“We’re going to do a team-building exercise this evening,” Sass announced. “Let’s start by walking off some of that dinner.”
She strode forth across the hold, fighting herself not to glance behind to see if anyone followed her. She trusted Abel and Clay would, Ben perhaps out of habit. She hoped they could mobilize the others. At the wall, she flipped her gravity and started upward. Yes! Feet were following.
She led up and across the overhead, down the ventilation wall, across the floor, and into the engine room. There she marched them behind Eli’s bank of seedlings, and up the wall again to the ‘moon roof’ section. And stopped, turning to face her crew.
“There. If we speak softly, no one can eavesdrop. Agreed, Clay?”
“The hydroponics mask our voices nicely,” he murmured in return.
Keeping her voice low enough that everyone had to gather close and lean in, Sass began the real meeting. “Some of you have a wrong idea about what I’m doing. I’m cozying up to Lavelle for information and to negotiate a better deal. Clay, where are we on breaking their control of our computers?”
“Long way to go. Good news is, I should be able to reverse the favor. Win control of Gossamer.”
“Excellent,” Sass breathed. “Copeland, what did you manage?”
Copeland pursed his lips, as though doubting her sincerity.
Abel grabbed his shoulder, and met his eye. “The captain hasn’t turned on us. Never happen.”
The engineer grudgingly nodded. “I installed shut offs on our radio receivers. They can’t control us remotely if we’re not listening.”
