Bound by Honor

by Terry Mixon

  “Of course, it might be nothing, but Ceres has the largest population in the Belt. An attack like that could kill hundreds of thousands of people. Perhaps more than a million. That’s not something they prefer to leave uninvestigated.”

  Brad rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The Agency has me running all over the place recently. Don’t they have resources on Ceres?”

  Barnes nodded. “This is going to sound awfully familiar, but the Agent there went silent two days ago. It’s shaping up to bear an uncomfortable similarity to the situation you just came from. I’m hoping you can engineer a somewhat less explosive outcome this time.”

  “I hate this,” Brad told Barnes. “Absolutely and completely hate it. I’m tired of chopping off the damned Cadre’s tentacles only to see more pop up.”

  “They couldn’t have pulled any of this off without access at the highest levels,” Barnes said quietly. “For my part, that means I only have a small pool of suspects to sift through here. If we can capture the Cadre leader on Earth, we might be able to roll them up. Or at least figure out what their ultimate goal is.”

  “I’m tired of these bastards getting away with literal murder,” Brad said coldly. “While you do your thing, I’ll go make the Belt safe for decent people and maybe kill a few pirates while I’m at it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Almost surprisingly, the journey to Ceres went without incident. Unlike in the vids, the asteroid belt was almost as empty as the rest of the Solar System. One didn’t see swarms of rocks zipping around.

  That wasn’t to say that traveling through it was without risk. Asteroids of any real size were known and their courses theoretically available. There was a Commonwealth agency based on Ceres responsible for keeping track of all those dangerous rocks on their orbits around the sun.

  The problem was that their orbits changed whenever they interacted with nearby objects, like other asteroids and even distant planets. The charts needed constant updating and intense calculating to forecast an asteroid’s future location.

  Then there were the uncounted smaller bits of debris that had no name or number racing through the Belt, too small to bother with or occasionally even detect unless they hit a ship. They were like grains of sand shot out of a mass driver. Those were usually too small to fret about, but sometimes, even sand could wreck an instrument.

  Most Belt objects traveled in the same direction of flow around the sun, like a great river of stone and ice, but there were sometimes unexpected exceptions. Those kept pilots busy around the clock while in the Belt. Even in orbit around a large body like Ceres, since it wasn’t massive enough to clear its own orbit.

  Ceres was something of an outsider in the Belt. Neither fish nor fowl, as they said. Bigger than any other asteroid, it was designated as a dwarf planet. That meant it was in hydrostatic equilibrium, where it had enough mass to form a globe. It was the smallest such body in the system, the next largest being Saturn’s moon Rhea.

  Other than being spherical, it looked like any other asteroid they’d ever seen, only a lot bigger. Like a moon without the accompanying planet. He’d been there before but hadn’t had much of an opportunity to see it like this. It had been in the aftermath of the destruction of his uncle’s ship. His memory had been pretty badly messed up—and, well, once it had come back, Brad Madrid had been born and Brad Mantruso had stayed officially dead.

  “Not much to look at,” his wife said, echoing his thoughts as she brought Oath into orbit. “I’m a little at a loss as to why there’s so much activity around it. Do they mine something valuable here?”

  Brad smiled, having had to look that up for himself just a few hours earlier. “You might say that: water. Because it’s easy to extract, they ship it all over the Inner System. Even places like Venus and Mercury. Because of Earth’s gravity, it’s a lot more expensive to get water there, so Ceres became the provider.”

  She spared him a glance that told him she thought he was pulling her leg. “Seriously? Unlike Ganymede, this place seems a little dry.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m being serious. The planet—which is technically the correct word for Ceres—has a rocky core with an ice mantle. The crust is material like you see on any other asteroid, but it’s really thin. The ice, on the other hand, is a hundred kilometers thick.

  “We’re talking 200 million cubic kilometers of water in a relatively accessible form. One can process raw material from many asteroids to get water, but it’s a lot cheaper to harvest it here and ship it out in exchange for other goods.”

  “That is a lot of water.” Michelle admitted.

  “More than all the fresh water on Earth,” he said. “We should top off while we’re here, as a matter of fact. It’ll be cheaper than doing it later.”

  He turned his attention to the communications console. “What’s the word from Ceres traffic control, Xan? Have they decided where to park us yet?”

  The woman grinned. “I just got the word. We’re to park near the Fleet station. Sounds a lot like when we went to Earth. They’ll trust us with all our firepower in orbit, but only if Fleet is watching us.”

  Brad nodded, not really surprised. “Get us into place, then. I want to get down to either Ceres City or Piazzi and talk to some people. Not that I expect they’re going to be all that helpful. What is the Fleet presence here, Michelle?”

  Michelle consulted her console. “They have the station, a destroyer flotilla with a cruiser in command.” She turned her head back toward him with a grin. “The cruiser CO is your old friend Mark Fields aboard Freedom. The information I have says he’s gotten a promotion to Commodore and is in command of the mobile forces here.”

  Brad sat back and rubbed his chin. That was very interesting and potentially quite helpful. Fields had proven to be a good ally in the fight against the Cadre. It might be a better idea to drop in on him first. If anyone would help him sort out what was going on near Ceres, it was the man in command of the Fleet elements.

  He’d also know who could be trusted down on Ceres and who was shady. Or if he didn’t know, someone on his staff would.

  In any case, it would be good to see an old friend.

  He’d planned on surprising Fields, but the man was obviously keeping track of who was in the area. The Commodore called Oath as Brad was just starting for his shuttle. After a brief conversation, the two agreed to meet aboard Freedom.

  The cruiser looked much the same as the last several times Brad had come aboard, the personnel bustling around the boat bay on tasks major and minor, all somewhat obscure to those unfamiliar with warships.

  Brad had a better appreciation of that now that he commanded warships of his own. He’d once thought about joining Fleet, but the Terror and the Cadre had changed his life forever.

  Mark Fields was waiting for him and smiled as he extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Commodore. It’s good to see you again. Congratulations on the promotion.”

  Brad grinned as he shook the man’s hand warmly. “Thank you, Commodore. I am proud of what my people and I have built. You haven’t done so badly yourself.”

  The other man’s smile turned a bit sour. “That’s a complicated story. Shall we adjourn to my office? We have a lot to talk about, I think.”

  It wasn’t the first time Brad had been in the man’s office. Not much had changed. The furniture was still on the spartan side and there were few pictures or knickknacks.

  Field’s closed the hatch and gestured to one of the seats in front of the desk. “Drink?”

  Brad shook his head. “Not now, thanks. I suspect I’ll be headed down to the surface once I’m done here, and want to be as sharp as possible.”

  The Fleet officer took his seat and studied Brad. “That sounds serious. Of course, you showed up with six destroyers, so whatever is going on had to be serious. Venus?”

  Brad nodded at his guess. “That leads into this. You’re well informed.”

  “One pays attention to nuclear detonations,” Fields said d
ryly. “And as for myself, while it might have been totally unfair of me, I immediately wondered if you’d been involved.”

  That made Brad laugh. “A guy uses nukes once and he’s marked for life.”

  Several years before, Brad had been forced to use nuclear weapons captured from the Cadre—which they’d stolen from Fleet—to destroy a number of pirate weapons platforms, small stations, and ships while taking down the Terror’s base.

  That had gotten him into a lot of trouble and forced him to work for the Agency just to avoid going to prison forever. It didn’t bother him much, since that aligned with his goals of taking the Cadre down, anyway.

  Of course, he’d also been involved in another set of nuclear explosions recently, but he hadn’t set those off himself. He’d just been there when an ally had done so.

  He shook his head one last time and sighed. “Yes, I was involved. Though to be clear, I didn’t set off the bomb. The Cadre blew up a hidden surface base when we tried to rescue an Agency operative they were holding. We failed, sadly. The Agency thinks they’re active around Ceres too, so they sent me to do some discreet investigating.”

  Fields raised an eyebrow. “With six destroyers? That’s as many as I have screening my cruiser. That’s not precisely subtle.”

  Brad shrugged. “We’re coming back from a job as a unit. We traveled to Earth together and now we’re at Ceres. The Cadre has to expect that we’re going to be heading for the Jovian Cluster as a group soon enough. If they’re worried enough to stop whatever they’re doing for a while, so much the better.”

  “I can’t say that I’ve seen any signs of activity,” Fields said. “Not that I doubt that they’re here, but what kind of presence does the Agency suspect? If it all goes into the toilet, I’m the one responsible for fending them off, and forgive me for saying so, but your presence makes it much more likely that they’ll do something hasty.”

  “I do tend to get them all excited,” Brad agreed, “but that’s more likely to generate an assassination attempt rather than a mass attack on Ceres. Just me and my ships being here shouldn’t overly complicate your job.”

  Fields grinned. “You have more of an effect than you realize, Brad. I raised my ships to an elevated readiness level the moment I found out you were here, just on general principles.”

  Brad had no idea if Fields was joking or not. In the end, it changed nothing. He was here to do a job, and if the Cadre came at him, he’d deal with them.

  “The Agency believes a number of merchant ships associated with the Cadre have been calling here in greater numbers than they’d have expected. Individually, that’s not much to go on, but it looks suspicious.

  “I’m here to figure out if this is part of a larger operation targeting Ceres. With Fleet strength down, the Agency is worried.”

  Fields nodded grimly. “They should be worried. The Cadre is a lot stronger than any of us thought, and now Fleet is barely able to protect the Inner System. The Belt isn’t really part of that coverage and I’ve been worried that they’d pull me out of here any day. How can I help?”

  “I need the names of people down in Piazzi that might get me a lead on what the Cadre-associated merchants were doing. If there’s a pattern, I need to find it fast.”

  Fields frowned a little. “Not Ceres City? Or are you worried that someone there will remember your last visit?”

  Brad shook his head with a smile. “I was only ever a missing person to them. The Agency saw that record purged, so unless I run into the social worker that I ditched, I’m fine.

  “I picked Piazzi because the Agent stationed there vanished a few days before I arrived at Earth, probably after asking the same kinds of questions I’m about to ask. Unlike Venus, I want to find them alive this time. And if she got the Cadre’s attention, that sounds like Piazzi might be their chosen base of operations this time.”

  The Fleet officer nodded. “I know some people there. One doesn’t hold a position like mine without developing some familiarity with the people trading in the area. It sounds a lot like you’re going to make yourself into a lightning rod. Be careful.”

  Brad smiled coldly. “This time, I’m ready. If lightning strikes, it won’t be me getting shocked.”

  Armed with a name—Lily Khan, the woman in charge of one of the larger import/export companies on Ceres—Brad headed for Piazzi. In her line of work, the woman would either know about the unusual visitors or be able to refer him to someone that did.

  Since they were dealing with the Cadre, Brad had Saburo and a team of troopers along. As they didn’t want to stand out too much, everyone wore low-key armor under their clothes. Brad wore one of his expensive skinsuits.

  As for weapons, rifles were frowned upon in Piazzi though technically not illegal, even for bonded mercenaries. In Ceres City, he’d had to argue long and hard just to retain his pistol and blade, even though the law had clearly been on his side.

  With as many times as they’d run into the issue regarding weapons, Saburo had come up with a solution. It was too bad that he hadn’t been able to use it on New Venice due to the legal restrictions there.

  The troopers openly carried sidearms, but they also had discreet shoulder bags that wouldn’t have been out of place on Earth. Inside each was a compact submachine gun and spare ammunition. On top of that, the bag was armored and could be used as a makeshift shield.

  All perfectly legal for a mercenary company on Ceres, but best hidden from sight so as not to panic the locals or give too much warning to any ambushers.

  Bakarne Pitts was piloting for him again while he rode down in the copilot’s seat. “I hope this landing goes better than the last one,” she said with a little smirk.

  “Doesn’t Venus count as a good landing?” he asked with a sly smile. “We did walk away from it, after all.”

  She laughed. “Worst good landing ever. At least our odds of being fired on here are lower. Ever been to Ceres, boss?”

  “A long time ago,” he said with a nod. “You could truthfully say it was a different me back then.”

  Brad kept his eye on the domes they were approaching. They were all clustered close together, some small but most really large. There was one in particular that sat low to the surface but covered a lot of ground. It was a different color from the rest, too. Less gray and more white.

  “Which one is the spaceport?” he asked.

  “The one just short of that bright one. In case you were wondering, that’s not Piazzi. It’s the rink.”

  He frowned. “The what?”

  “The rink. The locals peeled back the crust and polished the surface of the ice so they could use it for recreation. People skate near the edges while the more daring residents take iceriggers out into the middle.”

  “You’re yanking my chain.”

  The pilot held up a hand solemnly. “Serious as a heart attack.”

  Before he could answer, the communications system came to life. “Shuttle Viking One, this is Piazzi Control. You are cleared to land in pit 749. Come around the city on the heading I’m sending now.”

  “Viking One acknowledges, Piazzi Control,” Pitt said.

  That course took them right over the rink dome and Pitt rolled the shuttle enough that they could stare down through its transparent material. Sure enough, there was polished ice in there. He even saw several small craft zipping across the surface near the center.

  “Unbelievable,” he mumbled to himself. “I suppose it takes all kinds.”

  Pitt laughed. “True enough. Here we go.”

  The shuttle dropped down to just above the surface and slowed to a crawl, entering the spaceport dome and finally landing in the assigned pit. She shut everything down while he unstrapped.

  “Stay here and keep the hatch locked,” he ordered. “If things really go badly, we might be coming at a run.”

  “Are you expecting that level of trouble, Commodore?”

  “No, but be ready in case I’m wrong.”

  Brad walked into
the back and nodded at Saburo. “Let’s go.”

  The Colonel dropped the ramp and started down with two of his men at his heels. Brad and the other four troopers followed.

  The interior of the spaceport dome was just as busy as one might imagine. Cargo and passenger shuttles filled the pits. People in official-looking coveralls or in sometimes-garish civilian clothes moved in an ebb and flow toward unknowable destinations on unguessable tasks.

  Brad noticed that most of the men favored mustaches, both large and elaborate as well as occasionally small and plain. Perhaps that was a local custom.

  He shrugged and they made their way to the exit as a group, avoiding people where they could and getting clear as quickly as possible when they had to.

  The corridors around the port were just as busy, but the people were focused into tight streams outbound or inbound. That let his people close up around him much more readily.

  “We’ve got the address,” Brad said. “It’s close to the port, as one might expect of an import/export factor, so we can be there in just a few minutes.”

  Saburo was about to respond when something chimed in Brad’s jacket pocket.

  Without thinking, Brad reached into his pocket and pulled out a com. One that hadn’t been there when he’d dressed that morning. As he stared at it, the screen lit up with an incoming call from an unlabeled number.

  “Give me that,” Saburo said, snatching it out of Brad’s hand. “It could be a bomb.”

  “If it was a bomb, it wouldn’t have rung,” Brad said, taking it back. “It would’ve exploded. Someone wants to talk to me pretty bad, and now I’m curious to hear what they have to say.”

  Chapter Eighteen