“Gnat, Uline, what happened?” Our friends on the Shiamiru were listening closely, so of course they noticed Uline shouting about the busted levitator and her broken arm.
The Trader wanted to answer and say what happened, but I gave an abrupt wave and placed my palm to my lips. Then I called her over to the automatic processor, went over to the nearest container, removed its lid and studied the contents.
Mineralogy skill increased to level twenty-six!
“What is that?” the Geckho woman asked in incomprehension and even disgust, seeing the gray powder that filled the small container almost to the top. “Gross... Is it radioactive?”
I fearlessly lowered my hand into the container and lifted out a handful of the fine gray powder. Even with the artificial gravity, which was just a fraction of what I was used to, I could feel how heavy it was. I practically immediately guessed what it was, and decided it was better not to share this news with the whole crew. Carefully pouring it back into the container, I took out my laser rifle and inscribed a long Geckho phrase on the ground.
“This is platinum sponge, the product created by chemically processing platinum ore. After this, it is generally purified and smelted into ingots. I’d guess the automatic processer has amassed around six hundred fifty pounds of platinum. We still need to figure out who this treasure belongs to, though.”
After finishing, I got worried that the Geckho lady wouldn’t understand how much a pound was. Although... the game algorithms had automatically translated measurement units for me many times before. Maybe it would be translated for Uline as well? The Trader lowered a glove into the heavy powder and thoughtfully let the precious metal slip between her fingers. After that, she asked for my laser rifle and engraved a response:
“Gnat, what difference does it make who it belongs to? I know our captain well and am sure that Uraz Tukhsh will not be bothered by such technicalities. In fact, I bet he’ll ask me to find a market where we can sell it all under the table. As for you, now is the time to take your share. As much platinum as you can carry.”
Seeing me looking closely and predatorily at the filled containers, Uline Tar hurried to clarify, scribbling another line:
“Keep in mind that your contract with the captain assumes normal gravitation, not local. So, don’t be a thief. After all, I know you. That’s a big backpack and, on this asteroid, you could carry out all the platinum by yourself, especially if you turn off the artificial gravity.”
After some thought, Uline Tar lowered the barrel and carved another couple sentences:
“Gnat, I’ve got an offer. I agree to temporarily hold some of your things, but only if we can split the extra platinum two ways.”
Astrolinguistics skill increased to level forty-two!
I met gazes with my friend and gave a distinct nod of agreement. And while I set all my things out of my inventory and handed them to her, Uline Tar quickly erased our writing with her foot, activated her radio and said:
“Captain, I have two pieces of news: one good and one bad. The bad: we broke the levitator. It’s shattered and cannot be repaired. The good: we found something, and you should come see it firsthand. I know you’re gonna like this!”
* * *
THE CAPTAIN CAME by heavy loader and brought his senior engineer with him. As I guessed, they had quite a jubilant reaction. Uraz Tukhsh walked around the whole area, sticking his nose everywhere and jumping with such joy that, at one point, he accidentally left the artificial gravity, jumped off the asteroid and nearly flew into open space. The safety tether pulled him back, though.
The Supercargo was called off the shuttle, and the captain asked him to bring the radio jammer. Their conversations were not intended for the rest of the crew. Still, the Trader and I were right next to the automatic processer the whole time. No one chased us off, and we heard everything they said. We were already aware of the valuable finding, so the captain simply saw no need to hide anything from us.
Uline guessed the captain’s reaction spot on. The question of whether to take the platinum or not was not even up for discussion. However, the captain and his helpers had a concern I didn’t expect. They wanted to take not only the ore, but also the Meleyephatian processer, drill, enricher, loader, gravity generator and distortion generator. The Supercargo was opposed, saying it would not fit in the Shiamiru’s cargo hold, especially given that our automatic processer already took up more than two-thirds of the space. All the same, the captain was taken with the idea and couldn’t be stopped:
“The equipment is worth too much to leave! That processer alone will get go for seven hundred thousand crystals, and the whole setup must be worth a million! Could we unload our stuff temporarily on a neighboring asteroid, hide it and cart this off to sell?”
“We shouldn’t hide it nearby...” the main engineer said dubiously. “Whoever owns this processer is not gonna be happy when they notice it’s gone. The first thing they’ll do is look for tracks here on the asteroid, then scan everything nearby. And who knows how good their search equipment is?”
Uline cut in to answer the seemingly rhetorical question:
“If they could afford this processer and the rest, they aren’t exactly poor. And seeing they found such a great deposit, they must have high-quality search equipment.”
“Looks that way,” the main engineer agreed. “A functioning processer can be detected practically from across a star system with good scanners. Sure, that may not apply if it’s well hidden, but you never know. Also, it would be a huge shame if we go off to hide our processer, and the owners of this one come back before we do. After all, who knows what kind of security systems they have here? You never know, maybe a signal has already been sent out and they know we’re here.”
After that, the arguments stopped for some time. The Geckho went silent, exchanging somewhat frightened glances. I even guessed the captain might be rethinking it and would leave the equipment. But I was wrong. The threat of exposure just steeled Uraz Tukhsh’s determination:
“So, here’s my decision! The equipment will be packed up and loaded into the cargo hold, then our processer will be tied down to the external fasteners...” The captain intercepted the main engineer and Supercargo’s objections with a gesture. “Yes, I am aware that we will not be able to land on a planet like that and would burn up in any atmosphere. I also understand that, if we try to dock at any normal station, we’ll be stopped, and the rumors about this incident will spread farther than we can allow. So, we’re going to a place that won’t care if our cargo is abnormal, and it won’t matter who we are or what we brought to sell.”
“I hope you are not referring to the pirate station Medu-Ro IV!” Uline Tar declared with clear alarm.
“That’s exactly right,” the captain answered. “And don’t turn your nose up, Uline. It isn’t a pirate station, it just belongs to captains who think more independently than most. Geckho laws don’t hold sway there, nor do those of any other spacefaring race. The owners just couldn’t bear the constraint! Sure, last time we ran into trouble, but that doesn’t mean this time will be the same. Medu-Ro IV is the largest independent trade hub in this part of the galaxy, and we can unload both the platinum and this whole drilling setup no problem. Also, we don’t have proper registration documents, so that’s just what we need. Think for yourselves, in a mere four ummi, we’ll all be rich! And not a word about the platinum when we get to the Shiamiru! The rest of our crew should be led to believe we found just an abandoned automatic processor. We have the legal right to take that. The equipment is of Meleyephatian origin, which means they should never have been in Geckho space in the first place!”
* * *
BACK IN THE SHUTTLE, I asked a burly Uline about the past problems on Medu-Ro IV. My bunkmate, even gloomier and less talkative than usual, first refused to answer. I figured it wasn’t worth pushing, and just got to my own business. But suddenly, the Trader had a change of heart and decided to bring me up to speed:
“I
t’s a nasty story that might come back to bite us in the ass... As you know, Uraz Tukhsh is from a well-known family of Geckho aristocrats. And his origins sometimes guide his behavior more than they should. In fact, believe it or not, the captain used to be even more arrogant. Anyway, the inhabitants of Medu-Ro IV don’t take kindly to such behavior. The station belongs to freebooters, and the majority are of Miyelonian origin. That means Miyelonian is the common tongue on the station, and all payments are made in the Miyelonian currency, crypto. To be honest, I was not aware of that and, in many ways, it was my fault we came to Medu-Ro IV for repair in the first place. It may be hard to believe, but Uraz Tukhsh used to be an even worse pilot and the ship had to be repaired on a regular basis. Anyway... the captain didn’t have any of their currency, even though he had more than enough crystals... Perhaps, if Uraz Tukhsh had been on better behavior with the Miyelonians, we could have come to an arrangement. But the captain’s noble instincts took over and he just couldn’t bring himself to act decent...”
Uline went silent midsentence, as if considering whether the story was worth continuing. But then she made up her mind:
“They accused him of bad faith, and Uraz Tukhsh threw a fit, even challenging the freebooting captains to a duel. But Miyelonians are famed for their skill in hand-to-hand combat. Our captain got his ass handed to him two times. His opponents weren’t even trying to kill him, they were just having fun, maiming him with their bare hands for all to see... Then, Uraz Tukhsh was thrown in prison and the Shiamiru was impounded until our captain’s influential relative Leng Waid Shishish came in and smoothed things over.”
Hmm... Quite the unpleasant story. The captain’s decision to come to Medu-Ro IV seemed even stranger now. I for one would have been ashamed to show my face there again. They made him look so pathetic! But I was no Aristocrat and perhaps I just didn’t understand what it was like to play that class. Maybe Uraz Tukhsh wanted to improve his Authority or something and was trying to prove he had become a respected and successful captain. Who could say? But another part of Uline’s story caught my interest:
“Say, what is the exchange rate from Geckho crystals to... what did you call the Miyelonian currency... cryptos or something?”
My bunkmate lowered the curtain to our room and bared her teeth predatorily... actually no, it was just a smile.
“Gnat, your question shows just how little experience you have. You could only ask something like that after just finding out about the spacefaring races. You see, any great civilization eventually reaches a point where they can easily exist on their market alone, without any outside investment or resources. For such a self-sufficient civilization, alien or foreign money is not only unnecessary, it’s a liability. Considering the huge size of the Universe, a financial system can only be stable with extreme protectionism.”
I did not understand and asked for a better explanation. Uline did her best to clear it up:
“If a free flow of cross-border investments were allowed, what would stop the Miyelonians from buying up strategically important resources and industries from the Geckho, and just closing them all down? It would be easy. At any time, they could just mint an infinite amount of their money, exchange it for crystals and, before the Geckho got wise, they’d legally own everything! Get it, Gnat? So, currency exchange is done centrally on the level of state banks, under the watchful eye of financial inspectors on both sides and in a very limited amount. Unauthorized currency exchange is a serious crime. The absolute minimum punishment is confiscation of property!” Here, Uline Tar lowered her voice to a whisper and continued. “Well, that’s the official story. In reality, the exchange rate on Medu-Ro IV is seven crystals to one crypto, and almost every trader offers the service, even though it isn’t discussed openly. But first-time buyers and other potentially unreliable merchants are almost sure to be refused. Trust must first be earned.”
“So Uline, are you in good standing on this station?” I asked. The Trader snarled, baring her sharp teeth:
“What a provocative question! Have I broken the law? No, Gnat, I haven’t. And it isn’t because of any deep respect for the institution, they just don’t know me, so they don’t trust me. But there’s nothing to stop traders from buying goods from one race and selling them to another. It’s hard to detect such trade, and no one really sees the point. As long as the volume stays relatively small, they prefer to close their eyes. Sure, I could exchange currency, but the rate would not be optimal. For those who have earned a trustworthy reputation, there are other ways as well: contraband, black-market currency traders, fictitious deals, money laundering and millions of other options... That is exactly what the freebooting captains engage in, and the Medu-Ro IV station is the largest trade hub in this sector of the galaxy where deals can be made between members of different races. Also, all kinds of fortune hunters unload their spoils there, and you can see really freaky ships from all corners of the Universe, including some belonging to space pirates wanted throughout the galaxy!”
What could I say? After this detailed explanation, I more or less understood what had drawn our captain to the station. I had one question left. I asked the experienced trader what the value of platinum was.
“Purified, in ingots with a stamp from a respectable trading houses — sixty-eight hundred crystals per pound. But in this cruder form, it’s about half that. By the way, I told Uraz Tukhsh that you took your share. He didn’t mind.”
As she said these words, I was watching the furry lady’s facial muscles carefully and would wager my head on the chopping block that, instead of “pound,” Uline had said a different word. It seemed she said a different number, too. And although I was already familiar with the Geckho measurement units, the algorithms of the game that bends reality were still translating them for me.
“I heard the captain doesn’t want to lose half the value of the precious metal, so he isn’t going to sell the platinum like this. He is going to find a person on the station to purify it, cast it and certify the bars. I suppose I’ll do the same. What about you?”
I had thirty-two pounds of metal in my backpack. The potential profit was over one hundred thousand crystals, even if I sold it without any further processing. Of course, I would have liked to purify it and double that, but I doubted Uraz Tukhsh could find honest business partners that wouldn’t throw him under the bus. So, I hadn’t made up my mind yet.
Chapter Five. Medu-Ro IV
A TWENTY-TWO-HOUR journey... As strange as it seemed, I had no problem keeping busy. First, I helped Dmitry Zheltov learn the control panel, translating the captain’s words. After that, I had a Geckho writing lesson, which was again given by the strict and quarrelsome navigator Ayukh. The short elderly Geckho was especially fierce today, giving more and more complicated tasks with more new words and an emphasis on mathematical and spacefaring terminology.
Elliptical plane... Back point traverse... Relative bearing... Sideslip angle... Mainstream speed vector... Ionic and gravitational thruster interlink system... Ship stress tensor... Adaptability of graph theory for the warp beacon system...
But there was a certain sense in how hard he was pushing me. My Astrolinguistics skill was leveling very fast, especially considering the bonuses from his Pedagogy skill. But the pace and volume were just frying my brains! After an hour, I was about to howl and climb up the wall, but I forced myself to concentrate, staring at the loops and broken lines on the tablet screen. At a certain point, Zheltov tried to join our Geckho lesson, but the Starship Pilot left the bunk fairly quickly with a look of traumatized shame and even fear.
By the end of the second hour, when I was about to give up, a double message jumped in:
Intelligence increased to 22.
Intelligence increased to 23.
What? I mean, I wasn’t especially surprised the stat had gone up two times. Any added point after twenty gave a bonus, as I’d recently become aware. But I’d heard from my faction that a stat would only increase for the second time af
ter two or three weeks of use! Either I had been misled, or our trainers didn’t know, but a stat could grow much faster if it was practiced at extreme intensity. At any rate, that gave me a second wind, and I was again bursting with energy, soaking up new information like a sponge. Another half hour later, I earned another portion of messages:
Astrolinguistics skill increased to level forty-five!
You have reached level forty-two!
You have received three skill points!
Wow, awesome! And although I was willing to keep going, the old navigator was tired and gave up:
“Gnat, you’re young. You’re like some kind of computer, you could go all day! But I’m a living being... Let’s wrap it up, I can barely think...”
Authority increased to negative 5.
Uline was looking on, and her eyes squeezed into barely visible slits, while her breathing grew strained and raspy. When the old Navigator left the bunk, the Trader commented in astonishment:
“I never thought such a thing was possible! You wore out old Ayukh! By the way, Gnat, you missed a very funny scene! While you were studying, your friend was offered Geckho food for the first time. Naturally, our traditional spicy stew was the only thing on the menu. Well, Dmmmitry sat for a long time after the first spoonful, all red with his cheeks puffing out, then he said every curse word he knew in any language. He’s seemingly already learned around a dozen phrases in Geckho! But the funniest part was that Dmmmitry finished it all, then asked for seconds!”
I went off to look for Dmitry and discovered him asleep on a bench in the second bunk. Woah! The Starship Pilot, lying there in his armor, had already reached level forty-two just like me! I was reminded that, before the raid behind Dark Faction lines, Dmitry Zheltov was just level thirty-two. It had only been a day since then, but my friend had gained ten levels! What an appetite he had for his profession!!!
External Threat (Reality Benders Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 5
