Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga)

by Peter Grant

  Ride The Rising Tide

  Book 2 of the Maxwell Saga

  by

  PETER GRANT

  Fynbos Press

  Copyright © 2013 by Peter Grant. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters

  and events portrayed in this book are fictional,

  and any resemblance to real people

  or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Luca Oleastri:

  http://www.innovari.it/

  Cover image supplied by Dreamstime:

  http://www.dreamstime.com

  Cover design by Oleg Volk:

  http://www.olegvolk.net

  This book is dedicated with love

  to the memory of my parents,

  Joan and Bill Grant.

  May they rest in peace.

  Table Of Contents

  Paths Diverging

  Wrong Leaf!

  Decontam

  A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

  The Chosen

  Taking A Round Turn

  Target

  About The Author

  Paths Diverging

  December 2838, Galactic Standard Calendar

  The medal was a straight–sided cross superimposed upon a circular wreath, both fashioned of rhodium–plated sterling silver. It gleamed as it lay on its cushion of red velvet in the open medal box. Its ribbon bore three stripes of equal width, the outer ones deep blue and the central stripe silver. A bronze letter ‘C’ was pinned to it.

  Steve looked at it for a long moment, then sighed as he closed the box. His mentor and father–figure had also earned a Lancastrian Cross for his courage, one grade higher than Steve’s — gold rather than silver; but his award had been posthumous. He wondered whether he’d ever be able to remember Vince Cardle without pain. I’d give up this medal in a heartbeat, and all my hopes for the future, if that’d only bring back the Bosun, he thought to himself… then shook his head. Snap out of it, you idiot! Vince knew the risks when we took on those pirates. He lived his life to the full, and when the time came he died a hero’s death. That’s more than most people in the settled galaxy can claim! He’d be the first to tell you to stop moping and get on with your life!

  He put the medal box into the largest trunk, next to the tube containing its rolled parchment citation, then closed the lid and locked it. He walked one last time through the bedroom, bathroom, living–room and kitchen alcove, checking every surface and drawer and cupboard, making sure he’d left nothing behind. Satisfied, he lifted the smaller trunk and slotted it into its recess on the lid of the larger, powered base unit, then checked to ensure that their tracking unit was already attached to his belt. He set a wheeled suitcase and a carryall next to the trunk tower, then stood looking at the baggage, thinking, That’s everything I own in the settled galaxy.

  He glanced at the time display on the wall. He’d finished his packing sooner than he’d expected. The taxi wouldn’t be here for half an hour. He turned towards the sofa, but was interrupted by the chime of the doorbell.

  The man at the door was of medium height, powerfully built, dressed in black from head to toe. His black hair was close–cropped over a round face, unremarkable except for piercing dark slanted eyes, showing no hint of his age. He nodded courteously as Steve opened the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell. I trust I’m not interrupting anything important?”

  Steve strove not to let his sudden tension show. “Not at all, Mr. Wang. Please come in.” As he stepped aside to make room for his unexpected guest, he went on, “I’m honored by your visit. I collected my valuables from the Depository of the Merchant Spacers League this morning, and packed them with my civilian gear. I’m waiting for a taxi to take me to the Fleet Depository, where I’ll leave my trunks for safekeeping, then I’ll spend the night at a hotel. I enlist tomorrow morning, and ship out right away to the Recruit Training Depot.”

  Wang looked around the room. “I see you’ve left your apartment neat and clean. Thank you for taking the trouble to do that.”

  “It was the least I could do, Sir. Thank you for letting me use it for the past four months. I’ve felt very safe here, much more than I would have done in a regular apartment building without the protection of your security force.”

  “After the news you brought us about the jade knife of Lei Sik Hoi, we owed it to you to protect you as best we could. In fact, that’s why I’m here. My people have returned from Old Home Earth. They reported to me this morning. I thought you’d like to know what transpired there.”

  Steve’s eyebrows rose. “I certainly would, Sir! Er… I’m sorry I have no refreshment to offer you. I’ve already emptied and cleaned out the kitchen.”

  “No matter.” Wang sat down at one end of the sofa, and Steve took a chair facing him. “The assassins who murdered Mr. Lamington and tried to kidnap you, six months ago, gave us a great deal of information under questioning.”

  I just bet they did!, Steve thought to himself. Thankfully, he hadn’t been invited to observe the interrogations, but he knew Wang, as the leader of the Dragon Tong’s enforcers on Vesta, would have been utterly ruthless. The drug–assisted questioning and agonizing tortures would have continued until the Red Pole had been absolutely sure Steve’s assailants and their accomplices had nothing more to tell him. They had probably welcomed death as a merciful release when it finally came.

  “They claimed to have been sent by the Crane Triad on Old Home Earth. I sent a team there with a personal message to my counterpart, the Red Pole of the Dragon Tong’s local branch. They took with them all we learned from the assassins. They shared it with him, spent a month investigating and following leads with his assistance, then approached the Cranes.”

  Steve didn’t have to ask how they’d ‘approached’ them. He knew it would have been without compunction or compassion.

  “They’re a smaller Triad, operating only on a few planets. It seems they absorbed some of its survivors after our people dealt with the Lotus Tong, two years ago. Those survivors told them that the Deputy Mountain Master of the Lotus, whom you encountered on Earth’s Cargo Terminal and handed over to our people there, had long been searching for a jade knife.

  “Just before you left Earth, their deputy leader received news about the knife that greatly excited him. What it was, the survivors couldn’t say; but our people assured us the knife hadn’t been in his possession when they searched him. I therefore assume he must have learned it was owned by someone also known to the Bosun. It’s likely he was sidetracked in his efforts to obtain it by his attempt to strong–arm the owner of the Horseshoe Saloon into a protection racket. That’s where you came in, and our Tong, too.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Steve suppressed a shiver as tension knotted his guts. Clearly, the Dragon Tong had not learned that the Lotus Tong’s deputy leader had obtained the knife — or that Steve had taken it from him, not knowing what it was, while searching him after another swirling, brutal fight on the morning of his departure. If Wang ever learned that the priceless relic was presently locked in one of the trunks in this very room, Steve’s life wouldn’t be worth spit.

  His visitor continued, “I presume your Bosun saw the knife in the possession of his friend, which is when he must have taken the pictures he later showed to Mr. Lamington. His friend was then able to depart, still in possession of the knife, because the Lotus Tong was no longer able to interfere. By the way, do you have anything to report about your attempts to identify and locate him?”

  Steve shook his head. “Not much. I was able to get the address of one of the Bosun’s friends on New Brisbane, but not meet him — he was traveling elsewhere during m
y visit. We’ve exchanged messages, and I’ll continue to build a relationship of trust with him before asking him about the knife. He’s already given me the names and addresses of three more of the Bosun’s former colleagues in the Lancastrian Commonwealth Fleet. I’ve sent initial messages to them, but not yet received any replies. I’m sure more names will come to light in due course.”

  He watched carefully, but Wang gave no sign of disbelieving the lies he’d just told him. Good, he thought to himself, careful to remain outwardly impassive. My only chance is to prolong the ‘search’ among the Bosun’s friends for the knife’s ‘current owner’. I’ll invent more of them as I go along. After enough years have elapsed and I’m far enough away, I can claim to have ‘traced’ it to one of them, and arrange to send it to the Dragons. That way, I might get to keep my head on my shoulders!

  “Very well,” Wang continued. “Anyway, the Cranes took over and continued the Lotus Tong’s reward offer, which had been circulated to all registered jade dealers in the settled galaxy. When your Bosun asked Mr. Lamington about the knife last year, he seems to have initially respected Mr. Cardle’s instructions not to speak of the matter, but eventually greed appears to have overcome his scruples. He sent a message to the address on the reward offer, asking for a share of the proceeds in return for his information.

  “The Cranes sent two investigators here to talk to Mr. Lamington. They confessed to us, before they died, that they tried to torture the information out of him rather than pay him anything. Unfortunately, he was elderly and in poor health. He suffered a heart attack, but not before telling them that Bosun Cardle had showed him the pictures, and you’d been with him. To make their interrogation look like a botched robbery, they stabbed him and left his body in the back room after ransacking his store. They then started looking for Bosun Cardle, only to learn he’d been killed by pirates a few weeks before. You were their only remaining lead.

  “In the hope that you might know something, they posed as policemen to question you, but failed to learn anything. That’s when you came to us.” Steve nodded. “They then decided to kidnap and torture you for information. Fortunately, we were able to prevent that.”

  “For which I’m extremely grateful.”

  Wang half–bowed in his direction. “Given the information you provided to us, it was the least we could do. At any rate, the Cranes are now co–operating with the Dragon Tong. They’ll continue to receive responses to the reward offer, but only under the close supervision of our people at Old Home Earth. If they trace the knife, we, not the Cranes, will take delivery.”

  “I imagine they’re not terribly pleased about that,” Steve observed drily.

  “Probably not; but they are ‘terribly pleased’, as you put it, to still be alive and in a position to assist us! If they hadn’t agreed to do so, the Cranes would by now have joined the late Lotus Tong in oblivion.”

  Steve strove to remain outwardly impassive in the face of the ruthlessness so casually displayed by his host. “Thanks for telling me all this, Sir,” he said carefully. “It’s good to know you’ve identified those behind my recent troubles. Have you been spreading the word that it’ll be fruitless for anyone else to approach me, as we discussed earlier?”

  “Yes, we have, and the Cranes are now doing the same. I’d say that after another three to six months the word will have spread to all interested parties, and you probably won’t be bothered any more. Of course, you’ll have to remain on your guard even after that, but only as a routine precaution. Lin’s been keeping a watchful eye on you, and her ear to the ground. She says there’s been no hint of any trouble brewing locally; and once you’re inside a Fleet facility, any external danger will be minimal.”

  Steve nodded. “Lin’s been a big help. She’s put me through several dozen training sessions with knives, pistols and improvised weapons. She’s also taught me a lot about surveillance and counter–surveillance — how to detect if someone’s following me, and what to do about it. She says I’m as good as one of your enforcers now, both with weapons and at evading anyone trying to follow me. Thank you very much for allowing her to spend so much time with me, and to train me so thoroughly.”

  “She’s kept me informed of your progress, and speaks well of you — high praise indeed, coming from my chief weapons instructor! Her standards are rigorous.” Wang hesitated for a moment. “That brings up another point. I know you intend to enlist in the Fleet tomorrow for an initial four–year term, to secure Lancastrian Commonwealth citizenship. However, the Red Pole at Old Home Earth’s Cargo Terminal remembered you. He, too, spoke highly of you, and made a suggestion that I’d like you to consider.

  “We can always use someone with the intelligence, courage and ability you’ve already demonstrated. It’s true that non–Chinese will never rise to the highest ranks in the Tong itself, but there are many positions open to others in our shipping subsidiaries — even the most senior appointments. I’ll gladly put forward your name for training as a merchant spacer officer and employment aboard one of our vessels. If you continue to perform as you already have, your progress will undoubtedly be rapid. We need trusted, loyal officers to command our ships. The best rise even higher, to manage our shipping lines. The rewards for success are very great, far more so than in most commercial enterprises.”

  Steve tried not to let trepidation show on his face as he remembered what Vince Cardle had told him about the Dragon Tong’s shipping activities. All their vessels were registered in the names of legitimate companies based on various planets, and usually carried ostensibly legal cargoes. However, many also smuggled stolen goods, or acted as courier ships for interplanetary organized crime networks. Be careful!, he thought to himself. Don’t piss him off by rejecting this too strongly. You still need him and the Tong on your side!

  “I’m very flattered by your offer, Sir,” he began slowly, “and very grateful; but for two reasons, I don’t think I can accept it. First, when we met, I told you that Bosun Cardle had been like a father to me. I felt — and still feel — honor–bound to respect his memory for the rest of my life, and follow the example he set for me.”

  Wang nodded. “I remember our conversation very well. As I said at the time, your attitude is very similar to our ancient cultural traditions of filial piety and loyalty.”

  “I’m glad you understand, Sir. Bosun Cardle retired from the Lancastrian Commonwealth Fleet as a Senior Chief Petty Officer. By enlisting myself, I’ll be following in his footsteps. I hope I’ll learn many of the things that made him the person he was.

  “Second, it seems to me that the best way to honor Vince’s memory will be to fight piracy wherever I encounter it. Pirates murdered him, after all, so to make them pay for what some of them did to him would be a fitting memorial. I reckon it’ll take a decade or more to earn Commonwealth citizenship, qualify for a commission — assuming I’m successful, of course — and rise through the most junior officer ranks. Thereafter, I’ll be better positioned to act against pirates. It seems to me that my ambition might also be of service to the Dragon Tong, Sir. After all, as you said, you operate a number of shipping subsidiaries, so you must suffer as much from piracy as the rest of the space freight industry.”

  Wang shook his head. “Not necessarily. We’ve let it be known in… interested circles… that piracy directed against our ships will meet with our… extreme displeasure. We usually have to demonstrate our resolve about once every decade, using warships from… shall we say, a friendly planet. Those who survive the lesson — and we see to it there are always a few — tell others about it. That helps to keep our ships reasonably safe, although we do suffer occasional losses.”

  “I see.” Steve recalled what the Bosun had told him about Qianjin, a planet allegedly controlled from top to bottom by the Tong, and about others where the organization had established positions of influence and power. He had no doubt that a division of destroyers could be whistled up at need to do the Tong’s bidding.

  “Eve
n so,” he continued, “your operations must surely suffer from restrictions imposed by other planets from time to time, Sir? When piracy affects their merchant shipping, system mining operations or orbital commerce and industry, they usually crack down on all traffic.”

  Wang nodded, lips twisting in distaste. “That’s true. Unfortunately, we can’t prevent that. After all, if we try to restrict pirates’ operations, they’ll retaliate by trying to do the same to ours. Nobody wins from rivalry like that. We’d all suffer.”

  “Yes. Still, I guess it'd benefit the Tong if there were less piracy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then my ambition to fight piracy might help you as well, Sir. If pirates’ operations are affecting your Tong’s, but you don’t want to be seen to act overtly or directly against them, you could secretly pass information to me, so that I could deal with them. No blame would attach to you, but you’d benefit from the results; and my career would benefit from successful anti–piracy operations. We’d both win.”

  Wang smiled. “Devious, plausible, and very useful to both of us. Very well, I’ll say no more for now about you joining one of our shipping subsidiaries — but if your ambitions don’t work out, please keep it in mind for future reference. If they do, and if, in due course, you achieve a rank and position where you can do something effective about piracy, use the white jade disk I gave you to approach local representatives of the Dragon Tong. Tell them about this conversation, and ask them to convey your proposal to higher authority. I’m sure something will be worked out to our mutual advantage. Meanwhile, report to me at least annually on your progress in trying to trace that jade knife.”