Cole followed the lady out of the reception area to a bank of lifts. He followed her into one of them and felt the car rise. They ascended only two levels, but the whole time, Cole couldn’t stop thinking about how impractical for ladies’ modesty a skirt would be on Haven…given the transit shafts.
When the lift doors opened once again, Ms. Obrist led Cole down a short corridor to an impressive office with thick carpeting and wood paneling lining the bulkheads. She gestured to one of the two chairs on the guest side of the massive, real-wood desk as she walked around to the chair behind the desk. With no further discussion, Ms. Obrist keyed a couple commands into her workstation, and a panel on the desktop opened to permit a DNA plate to rise into view.
“Please, place either hand on the plate, sir,” Ms. Obrist said.
Cole wanted to make a joke about whether she was a betting woman, but he kept his face impassive as he leaned forward and placed his left hand on the plate. He saw the holographic display change, but he couldn’t make out the precise details of what changed. He did—however—have an excellent view of the color draining from Ms. Obrist’s face at speed as her jaw slackened.
Ms. Obrist swiveled her chair to face Cole, and Cole saw she looked a little wild around the edges of her eyes, too. Ms. Obrist’s jaw trembled just a hint as she said, “Mr. Coleson, I’m afraid there have been so many close matches of your DNA across the last thirteen years that the officers managing the Coleson Trust instituted a second verification in the case of any matches rating 80% or better. You, of course, are a 100% match, but I’m afraid I have no discretion in this.”
“That’s fine. What’s the second method of verification?”
“A drop of blood. It’s possible—with extreme effort—to falsify a touch DNA match; I’ve never known such a match to surpass 85%, but we at Credit Suisse ensure our clients’ security in all matters they entrust to us.”
Cole smiled. “Get what you need, Ms. Obrist. I’m not squeamish.”
“Please, wait one moment.”
Ms. Obrist stood and left the office with noticeable haste. She returned just a few moments later with a tester pad connected to a blood collector. Medical technology developed a non-invasive alternative to needles early in the 22nd Century, and the blood collector Cole saw in Ms. Obrist’s hand looked state-of-the-art. She approached and placed the device on the desk at Cole’s right, and Cole held out his hand.
“Roll up your sleeve, please,” Ms. Obrist said. “I’m afraid the protocol specifies the blood be drawn from your arm.”
Cole complied and watched Ms. Obrist draw less than a milliliter of his blood. The collector fed that to the tester pad, and in less than five heartbeats, the holographic display changed again. Ms. Obrist leaned on the desk and reached across to the hologram, spinning it around to see.
“As I expected,” she said, “a three-way match. Your touch DNA is a 100% match for the sample we have on file, and the blood sample is a 100% match for both the touch DNA and the sample we have on file. I apologize for insisting you endure that, Mr. Coleson.”
“Oh, no…no apology necessary. I’d hate to show up and request my inheritance only to find out I missed the guy who walked out with it by five minutes.” Cole gave Ms. Obrist his warmest smile.
“Oh, sir…I assure you. We at Credit Suisse would do everything in our power and authority to ensure that didn’t happen. Now, how may I assist you today?”
“Well, as I told your receptionist, I have two retinal-scan accounts I’d like to place under my full identity. One of those accounts is for my ship, Haven, and I need to make a withdrawal from that account onto cred-sticks…935 cred-sticks, to be precise. It’s the first payment for my crew. I’m sure several of them haven’t had a bank account in ages, and I want them to get everything set up between banks and the ISA while we’re here in Tristan’s Gate. I have the amounts and number of cred-sticks per group in a data-burst I can give you. Oh…and I need to move funds from my personal account to the ship’s account.”
“Of course, Mr. Coleson. Let’s first authenticate you for the accounts.”
Once those account matters were finished, Ms. Obrist handed Cole a data chit, saying, “The data chit contains a sealed record of your identity verification, Mr. Coleson, for the Trust authorities in Zurich. It will take a short time to process the 935 cred-sticks, but I have people already working on it. Am I able to assist you further today?”
Cole smiled. “If you examine the accounts created at Bremerton Station in Andersoll, you’ll see I opened those accounts with funds from the sale of precious metals. On the way to Tristan’s Gate, I stopped by my…stash, to call a spade a spade…and emptied it. Would the bank be willing to oversee another sale for me?”
“Are you able to guarantee provenance?”
Cole smiled. “Like the ingots from the Bremerton sale, these are unstamped and unregistered. I have a clear and unrestricted claim to them.”
“Mr. Coleson, I believe the bank can serve as an agent in this matter. However, do you have any opposition to selling the ingots outright to the bank?”
Cole shook his head. “Not at all.”
“How much metal will the bank be buying?”
“Seven thousand kilograms,” Cole said. “Two thousand kilograms of gold, palladium, and rhodium; and one kilogram of platinum. Do you expect these amounts to affect the market for precious metals?”
“It’s unlikely. The demand is too widespread for even two thousand kilograms of those metals hitting the market to cause a price crash. The price might even rise for the short term, as buyers may hope to entice more such windfalls out of obscurity. As with your earlier sale, the bank will deposit credits for the sale into an account you specify before completing a full verification of the ingots; if any part of the sale should fail validation, the bank will reverse an equivalent amount.”
Cole smiled. “I have no concerns about validating the ingots, Ms. Obrist. I validated them before their inclusion in my stash, and they have been even more secure than a bank vault since said inclusion.”
“Are you so certain of your materials, Mr. Coleson? Anyone can discover an unmonitored location given enough time and traffic near it.”
Now, Cole grinned. “I never once worried about that, Ms. Obrist. There’s only one jump gate into the system where I hid it, and I control when that jump gate’s active.”
A look of sudden understanding dominated Ms. Obrist’s expression, as she said, “So, that’s how they knew…”
Cole blinked, his grin shifting at once to a frown. “I’m sorry? Who is ‘they?’ What do you mean?”
Ms. Obrist’s eyes shot wide as she realized she’d spoken aloud. Then, she sighed. “Well, there’s nothing for it, now. Mr. Coleson, there are strict requirements of confidentiality surrounding your family’s Trust with almost-draconian penalties for anyone who breaches said confidentiality. We’re in something of a gray area now, because I verified your identity according to the protocols set forth by the Trust, but the officers overseeing the Trust have not published a recognition of your validation as yet.”
Cole nodded. “Of course.”
“For that reason, answering your questions could get me fired. I believe sufficient grounds exist to justify answering them, but we’ll see how it all shakes out. Several times over the years since your family’s tragedy, the Executive Board for Coleson Interstellar Engineering has sued in court for the officers overseeing the Coleson Trust to accept as Heir various individuals who bear only marginal relation to the primary Coleson line because all residents of Beta Magellan died in the massacre. Those suits never made it out of the pre-trial phases, because the attorneys for the Trust presented evidence that caused the judge to dismiss the suit. The Board for CIE has appealed every time, and the appellate court denied those appeals…also in the pre-trial phase based on evidence the judge saw and validated while supporting the Trust’s motion to place all records pertaining to the suit under heavy seal, the level of seal often
reserved for national security interests in Zurich.”
Cole gaped. There was no other word for it. He stared at Ms. Obrist with his mouth hanging open. “What? How do you know all this?”
“Before transferring to Tristan’s Gate to serve as a member of this branch’s management, I worked in the office that oversees the Coleson Trust. I led the group of liaisons from the Trust to the attorneys during the most recent lawsuit and learned about the history of the case. My superiors at the bank gave me and my team documents—all digital on various data cards and data crystals—to provide the attorneys, but there was one data crystal not even I had credentials to access. Only the lead attorney and the officers overseeing the Trust could access that crystal, and the data that crystal held led to the suit being dismissed yet again…only this time with prejudice. A careless remark by the judge in chambers—when I was the only individual other than our attorneys present—told me why. The jump gates possess a heartbeat mechanism, you see; every time a gate starts up or shuts down, it transmits a signal to an archive only the Trust’s manager can see.”
“But for the last thirteen years, the Trust’s manager has been the three officers of Credit Suisse in Zurich,” Cole said.
“Yes,” Ms. Obrist agreed. “There has always been undeniable proof that the true Coleson Heir was alive and well. Every time CIE has sued to stop ‘looking’ for the Coleson Heir, the officers of the bank provided this evidence to the judge with a motion that the court seal the case at the highest level of authority, because of the danger public knowledge of such proof would pose to the Heir.”
Cole frowned. “But how did they know it was always me opening and closing Beta Magellan’s jump gate? I mean…any systems geek could do that if they gained access to the jump gate’s control room.”
Ms. Obrist shook her head. “The heartbeat signal always carries with it a digital record of the DNA used to authorize the activation or shut-down of the jump gate. Every time such a message has arrived, the officers of the bank ran a verification against the Heir’s DNA on file, and every time, it has been a 100% match.”
Cole relaxed against his seat as he let the implications of that new information wash over him. “How long have those heartbeat signals existed?”
“You need to ask someone else. I would never have known of their existence, were it not for the remark the judge made. I guess everyone assumed I already knew since I was the lead representative for the Trust. The proper course would’ve been for one of the three officers in charge of the Trust to appear in court, but such is life. Now, into which account would you like the credits for the precious metals deposited, once the bank takes ownership?”
“Put all of it into Haven’s ship account. I plan to use the infusion of credits to put off going to Zurich, but after a few ship-maintenance tasks here in Tristan’s Gate, I’ll make that visit my next priority.”
Ms. Obrist prepared the sales contract in what Cole felt was almost record time, and soon, there was no further business to conduct. However, just as he stood to leave Ms. Obrist’s office, a thought crossed Cole’s mind.
“Ms. Obrist, if your concerns about disclosing those answers I requested prove true, you are welcome to contact Haven at once. If the bank dismisses you because of our conversation, I do not foresee your unemployment being a prolonged state.”
“Thank you, Mr. Coleson. We shall see.”
About an hour later, Cole left Ms. Obrist’s office with two of Credit Suisse’s security at either shoulder. Cole wasn’t all that certain he needed additional security, but considering he was carrying over six million credits in a pouch inside his pocket—not to mention a sealed writ containing the results of his identity verification to take to Zurich—he didn’t mind it. When they reached the reception area, each security officer placed a hand on Cole’s respective shoulder to slow him, stating they needed to clear the four individuals carrying arms.
Cole laughed. “They’re not individuals. They’re my friends.”
Cole pulled free of the security officers and approached Yeleth, Wixil, Sasha, and Talia. He pulled the pouch out of his pocket and fished through the pouch until he found four cred-sticks bundled together. Pulling that bundle and returning the pouch to his pocket, Cole undid the bundle and read labels on the cred-sticks.
“Yeleth,” Cole said, handing her a cred-stick. “Wixil,” as he handed the young Ghrexel a cred-stick. “Talia…and Sasha.”
“You have a named cred-stick in that pouch for everyone?” Sasha asked as she pocketed hers.
Cole grinned. “Of course not! The only other name I know is Mazzi’s. They’re bundled in groups and labeled: SDF, Iota Ceti, Akyra, and Frigate. This is just a down-payment, so they have credits to open their accounts and such. Once we finish running everyone through the ISA and get them slotted into ranks and ratings, I’ll do a onetime lump-sum deposit to cover the back pay. We ready to go back to the ship?”
At their affirmative response, Cole nodded once and waved to the security officers as Yeleth returned Cole’s rifle to him.
Upon returning to the ship, Cole called everyone to gather on the recreation deck. Aside from the flight deck, it was the only deck with enough open space for everyone to gather in one place. When everyone had arrived, Cole had them divide up into groups based on how they joined the ship. The former Caledonian SDF gathered on Mazzi. The former slaves from Iota Ceti gathered in another group, and the crew fresh off the Aurelian frigate gathered in their own group.
Cole explained that they were being paid for their time since asking/agreeing to become crew and a five-thousand-credit signing bonus. He explained about it being at the base rate of pay until everyone got their skills and experience assessed at the ISA, and once he’d said everything he wanted to say, he had one person from each group step forward to receive his or her cred-stick, working through each group until everyone was paid.
On the whole, it was a very painless process, and even though the group from Iota Ceti was the largest by far, it didn’t take long to pass out the cred-sticks. That finished, he left Sasha and Yeleth in charge of getting everyone to the ISA for assessment and the medical clinic for the required exam.
As he left the recreation deck intent on visiting his day-cabin, Cole used his implant to access StationNet and display the personnel directory for the shipyard. Searching the directory for ‘Sev’ revealed only one name: Sevrin Vance, the shipyard’s general manager. Cole filed that information away as he took a transit shaft up to Deck Three. There, he entered the captain’s day-cabin and opened the ship’s safe, which he’d setup to require both his DNA and a keycode for access. Once the safe was open, Cole placed the sealed writ of his identity verification inside the safe and closed it once more. That complete, he stepped through the head to enter the captain’s office and sat at his desk.
Cole took a moment to stretch his shoulders before he brought up the workstation’s interface. He chose ‘Communications’ and selected the controls to place a comms-call to the shipyard. The display flashed the text ‘Initiating Call’ below the shipyard’s logo for almost a minute before the text changed to ‘Call Established.’ The shipyard’s logo disappeared, replaced by a dark-haired woman who looked to be about Sasha’s age or maybe a couple years older wearing a navy-blue top.
She smiled and said, “Thank you for calling the Tristan’s Gate Shipyard. I’m Emily Vance. How may I assist you today?”
“Hello. I’m Bartholomew Coleson, but please, call me Cole. Is the shipyard a family business?”
“No,” Emily said. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was calling to schedule an appointment with Sevrin Vance, and your last name struck me. I suppose it’s a rather common name in the system.”
“No,” Emily said once more, growing concern coloring her expression, “it isn’t that common a name. Sevrin is my father.”
“Oh…then, you must be a cousin. The main reason I was wanting to make an appointment with your father is that he was recommende
d by name. Well, in all honesty, I was told to give ‘Uncle Sev’ a call and be sure to tell him Sooshie said hi when I spoke with him.”
Emily’s expression locked down the moment Cole said ‘Sooshie.’ “She told you that, did she?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, she did. I’m between the proverbial asteroid and a supernova on a matter, and I was told Uncle Sev would be the person with the knowledge and experience I need.”
“Yes, I’m sure he is. I get the impression that what you have to discuss is rather confidential. With your permission, I’d like to check my father’s availability, and if he is available, may we visit you aboard your ship?”
Cole smiled. “Of course! You’re welcome anytime.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cole sat at the desk in his office for a few moments before bringing up the navigation database. He accessed the chandlery’s site on StationNet, creating an order under the name ‘Haven’ and adding a navigational update. Making sure the order was saved, Cole closed StationNet and returned to the navigation database. As he was at a desk with a holographic workstation as opposed to a bridge console, Cole set the database display to be graphical, instead of list-based, and the charted expanse of the Milky Way galaxy soon hovered above his desktop.
Since the galaxy didn’t have magnetic poles from which to read a compass and the stars of the galaxy were spinning around the galactic core—much like each star system’s planets orbited that specific star—spacers had to devise a new method of referencing directions. Various exploratory societies and pundits proposed many options over the years, but the terms that ‘stuck’ and made it into the common lexicon were the terms ‘core-ward,’ ‘rim-ward,’ ‘spin-ward,’ and ‘anti-spin-ward.’ ‘Core-ward’ indicated the direction toward the galactic core, and the direction could be fine-tuned by stating a specific number of degrees off a due core-ward vector. Likewise, ‘rim-ward’ indicated the vector to the closest section of the galactic rim, while ‘spin-ward’ and ‘anti-spin-ward’ indicated the vectors traveling with the galactic spin and against the galactic spin, respectively.
It Ain't Over Page 27
