The Battle of Hollow Jimmy

by Becky Black

  The three levels opened onto a central well, with a core of its own, a circular three level tower with a flat top that ended some metres short of the high ceiling. Chervaz had heard a description of this place, from technicians who'd been in here to fix things. The station manager occupied that central tower. Strange looking thing though, it had no windows. Did he monitor everything on video screens?

  In his whole time here, Chervaz had seen the station manager all of twice, and then only from a distance. He gulped a couple of times and combed his fingers through his hair as Neex led him to the tower and pressed a panel on the wall. A moment later a door opened and he followed Neex inside.

  Chervaz gasped as he stepped inside the tower. From inside, the walls were as clear as glass. A person could stand here and watch someone only a metre away, yet remain unseen outside. Chervaz knew this design. Humans had used it too. A panopticon. Created for prisons, he remembered. One guard could watch dozen of prisoners from a central tower and because they couldn't see the guard they could never know if they were being observed or not. The same here, the manager could watch any part of his control room at any time. Observing, yet unobserved.

  A lift, just a rising circular platform in a frame sat in the middle of the tower and Neex gestured to him to board it. It rose up, passing through a room full of monitors on the middle level and on up to the top floor of the tower.

  This design made sense for these people, Chervaz thought. The Klaff loved circles, so they'd hit on the panopticon structure naturally enough. Circles, perfect, orderly circles. The Klaff's love of order contrasted with the disorderly mix of the rest of the station. But perhaps that made them the perfect people to hold it all together. While the rest of the station roared and brawled around the core, the Klaff just quietly kept the whole thing running smoothly in their perfect circles.

  Neex and Chervaz stepped off the lift to find Mahtani, the station manager standing by a small round table, pouring tea.

  "Ah, Mr Chervaz. How nice to meet you. This is one of your human beverages I have acquired a taste for. Please join me." Mahtani handed Chervaz a small white cup with no handle.

  "Thank you." Chervaz sipped the hot green tea. A little bitter; the Klaff brewed it too long.

  "That's one of the great things about living at such a hub of commerce, don't you think? One has a chance to try so many new things in the way of food and drink."

  "Yes, sir," Chervaz agreed.

  "Neex, you must try it too." He handed the security chief a cup. Neex took the cup, but eyed the tea as if he suspected it of masterminding a series of armed robberies. "We shall sit." Mahtani led them to a couch.

  Not his desk, Chervaz thought. Ah, we're all terribly friendly and informal here. Off the record? Do they know what that term means? He'd bet Mahtani did. Mahtani's face stayed impassive, as always with a Klaff, but his skin stayed constant too, where even Neex showed continual small fluctuations in colour. Perfect control.

  "Now, Mr Chervaz, Chief Neex tells me you know that Captain Bara's ship has seen banned from docking here at the station. You found that out very quickly. The decision was taken only a short time ago."

  "I try to be good at my job, Mr Mahtani."

  Chervaz looked around for a table to put down his cup so he could take out his notebook and pen. No table. For a moment he almost put it on the floor. But he recalled the Klaff considered that an insult. Something you put on the floor was considered garbage. So instead he managed to extract the notebook one handed and balanced it on his knee.

  "I thought I would give you the correct details, rather than your having to rely on rumour," Mahtani said. "I am told that many human residents of the station consider Captain Bara something of a hero and may be very unhappy about her being barred."

  "That's quite likely," Chervaz agreed. "Can I ask what led the decision? You so rarely restrict the free flow of trade, especially not at the request of others, and I understand you have been under some pressure from various powers."

  The two Klaff looked at each other. Surprised he knew that? Wixa had told him. He'd learnt not to ask about her sources.

  "We have had previous requests, and accusations about her activities. And you accused her yourself of ordering her men to assault you and damage your office."

  As much as Chervaz wanted to pursue a subject so close to home, there were more pressing matters.

  "But you didn't ban her then."

  "We lacked evidence, but that has changed. The station owners have received footage of an attack by Bara's ship on a Kitsnujitar cargo ship, and their government has made a formal request to ban her from conducting any business here on Olojimi, or docking here at all. The owners have agreed to this ban and it takes immediate effect."

  Chervaz nodded as he completed his shorthand notes of Mahtani's words.

  "Mr Chervaz," Mahtani went on. "I asked you here to ensure you have the truth and to ask that you report this news in an unbiased and non-inflammatory way."

  "You can be reassured of that with every edition of my paper." Chervaz took on a haughty tone, resenting the idea he even needed to be told this.

  "There was a rather inflammatory story printed about the assault on yourself in one edition."

  He had it in his hand, making it appear from a file by his side. They keep them? The Klaff actually keep copies of the Chronicle on file? Chervaz wondered if he should be worried or flattered. He went for flattered. The fact he sat here getting the whole truth, right from the top man proved that they believed the Chronicle was important. That it could have an effect. The edition Mahtani held did fall below Chervaz's usual high standards though.

  "I didn't write that story. I was still in the clinic at the time. It was written by… a friend of mine, who was angry."

  Mahtani put the paper back in the file. "I understand."

  "Could I possibly see the footage of the attack on the freighter?"

  "I'm sorry, we don't have it here. In fact I haven't seen it myself. But my superiors assure me they believe it is genuine."

  Chervaz drank the last of his green tea, which had gone cold, and stood up. As exciting as it was to get an interview with the station manager, he needed to go. He had to get a Special Edition out fast.

  "Thank you for seeing me, sir, but I need to go and work on this story now."

  Neex and Mahtani rose too.

  "Thank you for coming, Mr Chervaz," Mahtani said. "I look forward to reading your report. In fact I always look forward to reading the Chronicle."

  "Thank you. That's good to hear."

  Now just so long as you don't think you will ever get to see it before it's printed, then we will continue to be the best of friends.

  Should he be feeling resentful? Chervaz wondered as Neex accompanied him out of the control centre? Oppressed? They hadn't threatened him. They hadn't said if he didn't report the way they wanted that they'd close him down. They just wanted the real truth out there and not a lot of rumours. Assuming the truth was what they'd told him. Not hard to check though. If there had indeed been a "formal request" by the Kitsnujitar, that had to be on record. He'd find that.

  So no, he wasn't bowing to any pressure from them, he'd report in the way he always did. Plain facts, no attempt to make things look better or worse than they were. Certainly no pro-Bara rabble rousing.

  His hands still hurt.

  ~o~

  Maiga sat up quickly when the door to the brig opened, but didn't see the person she hoped to see. Bara walked in.

  "Leave us," Bara said to the guard. "Wait outside." He left and Bara walked to the front of Maiga's cell.

  She looks tired, Maiga thought, her eyes dark-circled. But she wore a smile and had a spring in her step. Glancing at her watch, Maiga saw it was morning, ship time. A few days had passed since the battle and she'd settled into a routine. Bara had allowed her reading material, but hadn't been to see her.

  "I've worked something out, Maiga."

  "Can you work out when they'll bring my
breakfast?" Maiga asked.

  "Soon. But first I have something you may find more appetising."

  "Sorry, you're not my type."

  Bara gave a thin smile, but didn't react to the provocation.

  "I've been going about things all wrong with you, haven't I? Trying to recruit you to work under me, to take my commands. How could I believe that you would want to do that?"

  "Because you're an idiot?"

  Bara laughed. "Oh I have been! I have been. No, what I didn't take into account is that someone like you, older, more experienced, wouldn't want to take orders from me."

  "I'm not certain age and experience is the big issue here."

  "I know that I have a natural aptitude for command," Bara said, not apparently listening. "And I'm not boasting there, I've seen my records. That's been noted in them since training. But the fact is, you have too. I can't expect someone like you to be second in command to me."

  "Is there a point to this?" Maiga yawned and lay down again. "Because if not, can you come back when I've had some coffee?"

  "The point is the space station. The point is Hollow Jimmy."

  Maiga stiffened, but didn't move. Now we're getting to it. Keep the voice casual though. "What about it?"

  "You like it. Perhaps you even love it. Join me and you can have it."

  No way to control the reaction now. And it would be foolish to anyway, Bara would know she was faking. Maiga swung her feet off the bunk, sat forward.

  "Have it?"

  "I have my plans for the station. But I have no intention of going to live there, or sitting in an office all day. Can you see me in an office?"

  "If it had semi-naked slave-boys chained to the wall, perhaps." And perhaps I'm turning into Wixa, Maiga thought. No time for that nonsense. Let her keep talking. That wasn't a problem. Ignoring Maiga's remark, Bara lifted a hand and stroked it down the wall, fingers trailing sensually.

  "I belong in space, on this ship. I'd need someone in charge back on the station that I can trust. That someone could be you. You like the station so much, it can be yours."

  "Are you talking about making me… governor of Hollow Jimmy?"

  "Governor. Yes. Military Governor. If that's the title you like."

  Well there it was. She admitted it. She wants control of the station.

  "You hold the station," Bara continued, "and meanwhile I will continue my work out here."

  Her work. Right. I must keep her talking, Maiga thought. Have to find out her exact plans.

  "How do you intend to seize control? When?"

  Bara lost her dreamy expression and looked hard at Maiga, who tried to calm her own intense look, tried to look less hungry.

  "You don't need those details yet. Not until you pledge to join me. I know this is a big decision, so I don't expect your answer now. I'll give you time to consider it."

  "Well, I will certainly think about it," Maiga said.

  Which was nothing more or less than the truth.

  Chapter 34

  Gangsters, Max thought, as he looked at the men sitting around the table in the darkened room. A light above the table fell on a deck of cards and poker chips, but nobody was playing.

  "Gentlemen," Max said and found it hard not to sneer. That's how they thought of themselves now. They'd settled down and got fat and lazy, and stopped thinking of themselves as pimps and drug dealers and racketeers. station security kept a lid on them and they'd accepted the limits to their activities. The easy route. They were lifers to a man. Max needed to remind them what else they were.

  Greedy.

  "I think you have an opportunity, if you seize it now. If you take advantage of this juncture."

  "Why now?" One man asked. Smoke curled up from his cigar, making dreamy swirls in the lamplight.

  "Because of Bara. Because she's been banned from the station." Max looked around. "I hope you were all at least aware enough to know she'd been gathering supporters, muscle."

  "We're aware." A woman's voice surprised him. Max hadn't spotted her. Well, he'd seen her, but she wore her hair so short, and had such a plain, weather-beaten face, that he'd taken her for a short man. "What's it got to do with us?" she asked.

  "Those supporters are looking for someone new to take them on, to supplement their incomes. They're just waiting for someone to tell them what to do. They need orders."

  "Look, pal," the plain faced woman said. "We've got our men, why the hell do we want to start paying a load of extra men?"

  "Businesses have to expand to survive. Oh I know you have the human sector carved up between you. That you have all your agreements worked out as to who runs what action and you keep out of each other's way. But what about the rest of the station? What about expanding your action?"

  "We've never bothered with the other sectors," she said, shrugging.

  "Why not? Isn't their money as good as ours?"

  That made them murmur and even chuckle. Would they go for it though? They were lazy, they were happy with what they had. But if just one of them bit, then the others would follow, not wanting a rival to gain a lead on them.

  Balance. They'd achieved that in their dealings with the humans, however un-ambitious Max considered those dealings. But they wouldn't stand back and watch while one of them gained more power, even if they had started to consider him a friend. An esteemed colleague.

  "Station security won't go for it," the cigar smoking man said, "They'll start a crackdown."

  "Not if you're smart," Max said. "You don't have to increase the amount of crime. You just have to take over the operations of your counterparts in the other sectors. Though, I think there is room for expansion here in the human sector too. After all the population here is growing. And now Bara is gone, those places she protected are wide open and just waiting for you. The brothel. Dav's. The free clinic."

  One of the men spat on the floor, making Max wince with disgust, but he controlled his reaction quickly.

  "That damn clinic. Half my customers are getting free junk in there, instead of buying from my pushers."

  Oh, there's nothing like the bitter fury of a drug dealer scorned. Max began to feel sorry for that idiotically idealistic young doctor who still struggled on in the clinic. Of course, with his benefactor cut off from the station, the place was doomed anyway. All a smart person had to do was wait. But a really smart person would not wait.

  "Then perhaps it's time you did something about it," Max suggested.

  The dealer smirked horribly, gloating at the misfortune of his more respectable rival. "Maybe you're right there, Mr… ah, Max."

  "I prefer Commander," Max said. Why not? He'd worked hard to get to Lieutenant Commander. And he never even got to take up the posting that came with it. Ended up on that damn planet with nobody to give orders to. With nobody to…

  No. Stop it, he ordered himself. Not now. This is important business and Bara's relying on me, I don't need to start thinking about the three days it took… Stop it! His hands shook, so he clenched his fists.

  "So what's your angle?" The plain woman asked, looking at Max. "When did you become the local crime consultant?"

  Max cleared his throat and brought his voice under control before he went on. These people would scent weakness like scavengers scenting carrion. "The drifties don't trust you very much," Max said. "But they do trust me. I can make that connection for you. I can help place, shall we say, appropriate personnel in each of your organisations."

  "For a cut."

  "Of course."

  She looked satisfied with that. They all did. What more understandable motive for a man than greed? They'd all buy that. More looks at each other, more muttering.

  "Do you need convincing that the men I can get you can pull this off? And that they'll take orders? Which of you takes care of protection for the whores? The independent ones?"

  "That would be me." Plain face again.

  "Then tomorrow morning, I'll bring along the men I've selected and at four a.m. you meet us out
side the brothel."

  ~o~

  Major Jax had known it would happen.

  The moment she heard that the Trebuchet had been banned from the station, she knew her days were numbered. The marines Bara had provided were good lads, and had sworn they'd stand by her, as long as she could at least pay them enough for their rent and food. Well, she'd just about scraped that together. But still she knew it couldn't last.

  So when Etta, the hard-faced little bitch, walked in with a load of men at her back, all looking very handy, Jax knew they hadn't come to avail themselves of the facilities.

  "We're closed," Jax said, and heard her marines lining up behind her. Outnumbered three to one, they had little chance, but they stood behind her nevertheless. Good lads.

  "Major," Etta said, smiling. Smug, Jax thought. For so long she'd watched this place with greedy eyes, and been afraid to touch it while first the military and then Bara protected it. Now she had her chance and she was going to savour it.

  "Get out." Jax folded her arms.

  "Major, I don't want to start a fight here. I certainly don't want to smash this place up, or see anyone get hurt."

  "Any of your thugs touches any of my girls I'll kill him myself."

  "Then let's not allow this to escalate."

  "What are your terms then?" She might as well hear them. There was always the slight chance they might be reasonable.

  Etta laughed. "Terms? This isn't a negotiation. This is a hostile takeover." She grinned. "Very hostile. Throw them out, boys." She pointed at Jax. "Her included."

  "What? Wait--" Etta's men rushed at Jax and the marines and engulfed them. Fists and feet flew. Jax hit the floor when a blow to the side of her head felled her.

  Dazed, she couldn't fight when men grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the room. They dumped her onto the deck outside and left her there, groaning. The marines were dumped one by one around her.

  When the last of them hit the deck, Jax looked up to see Etta standing in the doorway grinning.

  "The girls," Jax said. "You hurt any of them…"

  "Of course I won't hurt them. They're my income."