Night Traveller

by L. V. Lloyd

  “Callan? Are you in there?” Dane Trenwith’s urgent voice came from outside the station.

  “Yes. Just chatting to Lieutenant Oliver,” Callan explained as Dane entered in a rush. He looked worried and excited at the same time.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got an urgent call from Argos. They’ve just been attacked. Pele says they’ve managed to fight off the other ship but they’ve suffered heavy damage. I’m just about to take Rover up to help them, do you want to come?” Dane had clearly been speaking to Callan but it was Mike who answered decisively. “I’ll come with you and you can fill me in on the way.”

  The two partners exchanged a frustrated glance but the Lieutenant hadn’t been asking a question. He grabbed a couple of stunners from a locked door under the desk before striding out of the station and leading the way to the small space dock.

  Dane gave Callan an odd look as they followed, his eyebrows raised expressively. What the—? It took Callan a second or two to work out what his partner was getting at, to remember who Argos had been escorting. Damn.

  This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted the Patrol on Asra.

  Chapter Six

  Mike Oliver knew the other two men didn’t want him along but that was just too bad. This was his job. They’d invited the Patrol to Asra and he wasn’t going to sit around on his backside when a ship had been attacked. Not for the first time, he wished he had his own Patrol ship, even if it was just a shuttle. How could he be expected to operate efficiently if he was planet bound? They might just as well have settled for a police constable if all they wanted him to do was handle the drunk and disorderly, the traffic and the fines.

  “So, what’s the story?” he asked as the three of them strode along, only a few minutes away now from the docking bay and the AISS second ship. “What’s happened?”

  The partners exchanged a silent look, evidently deciding via some indecipherable means that Dane would be the spokesperson. “Argos was escorting a small vessel, the Sprite, from Asra to Burra. Apparently they were just about to switch to FTL when they were fired upon by an unidentified craft. Argos fired back and damaged the attacker, but unfortunately not until they had taken a hit themselves. The space drive was hit and they can’t jump.”

  Callan was concentrating on his wristcom, replying to a message he had just received. “Good news,” he announced, rather grimly. “Terry says he can send out their rescue vessel to bring the Argos back here.” He turned to Dane. “That means you can take Rover and complete the contract.”

  “Terry?” asked Mike, still trying to get a handle on the situation.

  “One of the sub-managers at Poseidon,” explained Callan. “They have a decent sized trawler that can transport smaller ships. We’ll have to pay for it but it’ll be cheaper in the long run than breaking our contract.”

  The three men entered the docking bay and stopped beside a small ship which looked to Mike as if it might have been a Patrol vessel in a previous life. A couple of men and a woman all in dark green uniforms came toward them, looking alert and ready for action.

  “My team,” said Callan crisply. “I’ll introduce you once we’re on board. We better get going. Argos and the client are waiting, the trawler will meet us there.”

  Dane unlocked the hatch and they all piled aboard, Dane going straight to the pilot’s seat. He caught the momentary flash of envy on Mike’s face.

  “Can you fly?” he asked over his shoulder. “Would you like to be my second?”

  The Lieutenant stared longingly at the control seat next to Dane. Dane thought he heard a small sigh before the other man reluctantly declined. “Another time, perhaps. I need to find out what’s happened with your other ship.”

  “You and me both,” replied Callan, opening up his console unit. “I’ll see if I can get through to Pele.”

  Mike went to peer over his shoulder and saw a dark-skinned face appear on the screen. “Sir?”

  “Pele? Rian here, we’re on our way to you. Are you all right? Was anyone injured?”

  “Rene has a broken arm, but otherwise nothing worse than a few bruises, sir. We were lucky.” The woman’s warm voice came through clearly.

  “The Sprite?”

  “All fine. They weren’t hit.”

  “That’s good.” Callan went on to tell his pilot about the arrangements he had made with the trawler. “Let the Sprite know that Rover will be there shortly to escort them to Burra would you?”

  “I’ll need to talk to them about the attack first,” Mike announced firmly. He just caught the quick look exchanged between Callan and Dane before he was distracted by Pele on the screen.

  “Sir? Who was that?” she asked in surprise.

  “Lieutenant Oliver, our new Patrol representative,” Callan told her, his face carefully expressionless. “Naturally, we’ll offer him every assistance.”

  “Er... yes sir,” the reply sounded rather doubtful.

  “Have you seen or heard anything from the assailant ship?” Callan changed the subject smoothly.

  “Nothing, sir, it appears to be just drifting.”

  “ETA two minutes,” reported Dane from the pilot’s seat.

  “I think I can see the trawler now,” reported Pele. “Yes, it’s the Hummer, they’ve just made contact.”

  “Go ahead with recovery arrangements, Pele. I want to check out the assailant ship then meet up with you on the Hummer. I’ve arranged for them to transport you back to Asra. Dane can take Rover onwards with Sprite.” He turned to Mike. “I assume you’ll want to come with me now to take charge of any survivors? You’ll be able to talk to Pele yourself once we’re all on the Hummer.”

  Mike nodded, it appeared that he was going to be very busy for the next couple of hours. “Any idea who would want to attack your ship?” he asked.

  “Not specifically. Pirates I imagine, hoping for valuables,” replied Callan.

  “Maybe,” agreed Mike doubtfully. It sounded a bit of a risky gamble unless the pirate had information about the cargo. “Who’s your client on board the Sprite? Are they carrying anything valuable?”

  “Ser Jian Chang, a business man and his party,” came the smooth answer. “I don’t know what, if anything, they are carrying with them. It can’t be anything bulky, they’re only a small ship.”

  Mike stared hard at the Governor. Was he serious? He had to know that “Jian Chang” was the most common name in the galaxy, like “John Smith” or “Mohammed Khan” in some other cultures.

  “I’ll need to interview him, whoever he is. I think it’s more likely he was the main target, rather than your ship.”

  Callan pursed his lips. For a minute Mike thought he was going to argue, but instead he replied, “I’m sure he’d be only too happy to co-operate with the Patrol, but perhaps we should wait and see what we can discover on the attackers’ ship. We might find the answer to all our queries right in front of us.”

  “Docking with that ship now,” reported Dane. “Make sure you are all secure.” Everyone sat. There was a slight bump as the ships made contact and then Callan was on his feet, heading toward the hatch. Dane remained on the ship but the other three crew members followed quickly, stunners held at the ready. Mike followed, his own weapon in his hand. He considered briefly whether he should insist on leading the party but decided against it. Callan and his team were accustomed to working together, he would let Callan lead the way and be prepared to back him up.

  Chapter Seven

  The five of them crowded into the small transit bay, making sure that the door to the Rover closed securely behind them. Mike could see that a small panel on the wall next to the external hatch, was glowing an angry red.

  “Masks everyone,” called Callan grimly. “Looks like there’s a problem with the raider’s air supply.” Silently, one of the crew pulled five masks from a nearby storage unit and handed them around. This didn’t bode well for any survivors.

  Still cautious, Callan stepped through the hatch into the other vess
el, fanning his weapon in front of him. The corresponding transit room was empty, dimly lit by emergency lighting. He waited until the rest of the team was all through before opening the door into the main part of the ship.

  He was greeted by silence and more emergency lighting. Carefully feeling his way, Callan proceeded through what was evidently the storage cabin. Boxes and crates of varying descriptions were packed securely against the walls, leaving a narrow path through to the next cabin. He recognised the ship as a type three trader, small and compact, consisting of a tiny bridge or control room, a passenger cabin and the storage section they had just come through.

  They found the first body in the passenger cabin, face down on the floor, pointed in their direction as if he had been trying to make for the rear of the ship. The second was on the floor in front of the bridge and they had to move it to get through. The two men inside the bridge were still seated at the controls, slumped forward, looking as if they were resting their heads on the control panel for a brief nap. Mike knew they both had to be dead, but he checked anyway.

  Callan was busy scanning the control panel. “Looks like the hit from Argos took out their life support as well as damaging the space drive. Without masks they didn’t have a chance.” Both the Argos and the pirate vessel, if that’s what it was, were fitted with the latest sonic weapons. Instead of firing an impact missile, a sonic torp fired a wave of energy that penetrated the ship’s hull to target the energy fields within, usually the engines or the space drive. It was the pirates’ bad luck that the Argos’ missile had hit the life support unit as well.

  “Lieutenant Oliver?” One of Callan’s men, Talyor, called out from the back. “You may want to have a look at this. I’m pretty sure this man is carrying a laser gun.”

  Frowning, Mike went back to check. Everyone knew laser guns were illegal, just being found in possession of one was enough for a prison sentence. Not that these men would have to worry about that now. He bent down and carefully withdrew the weapon from the utility belt fastened around the man’s waist. “You’re right,” he agreed, giving Talyor a quick glance. “I’d better check the others.”

  He found a further two guns, the pilot was the only man not carrying. Carefully disarming each weapon, Mike stored them away in his own utility belt. He would record their destruction in the disposal unit when he returned to Asra. The presence of the weapons made him think the assailants had been more than thieves; most criminals carried stunners if anything, laser guns were only carried by people intending to kill. Had the men on Sprite been their target, or the Argos? Just then he felt the floor move under his feet a fraction and froze. Had the ship hit something, surely they weren’t still drifting?

  Perhaps it was time to return to the Rover. He wondered if the miner’s trawler would be prepared to take this ship back to Asra as well as the Argos, if it could manage two at once. It would probably cost an arm and a leg but once Mike had searched it for evidence he could sell it as salvage to offset the cost; maybe it would even be repairable, he couldn’t tell.

  “Excuse me, Ser Rian? Who should I speak to about transporting this ship to Asra?”

  Callan looked up from his wristcom and gave Mike the link through to the trawler’s pilot. After some discussion, they agreed that the Argos would be brought on board the Hummer, along with the four bodies, and the pirates’ ship would be collected on a second trip. There wasn’t room for both ships inside and the trawler’s pilot was reluctant to risk a tow unless it was an emergency. Mike wasn’t exactly happy but he understood.

  The five of them carried the bodies back through the ruined ship to the transit bay, ready for transport to the Rover and from there to the Hummer. Callan spoke briefly on his wristcom and the hatches opened between the two vessels. Talyor and Vinh manoeuvred the first body through the hatch into waiting hands, then turned back for the second; the rest of them helping by holding the bodies up, ready to pass forward. The entire job took less than five minutes and then they were all back inside the Rover, except that... it wasn’t the Rover.

  Mike hadn’t even noticed until he followed Callan out of the transit bay into the main cabin and saw Pele at the controls instead of Dane. They were on the Argos. He turned to Callan for an explanation, unsure yet whether he should be concerned or very angry.

  Callan met his eyes steadily. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, Sprite couldn’t wait. Ser Chang had an urgent commitment on Burra and the Rover left with him. I’m sure Pele and the rest of the Argos’ crew will be able to tell you what happened, once we get on board the Hummer.”

  “You knew I wanted to speak to him!” Mike was coldly furious.

  “I’m sorry,” Callan apologised again. “I did convey your request, but he couldn’t wait. He said he’ll make a statement later.”

  Mike felt like placing Callan under immediate arrest for hindering his enquiries, but he could hardly do that since he had been accompanying him the whole time. Maybe he could arrest Dane instead.

  “AISS has a contract to escort Ser Chang to Burra, Lieutenant,” Callan reminded him. “But he’s a businessman, not an employee. I’m not in any position to dictate his movements.”

  Mike tightened his lips. He realised he could hardly have expected Dane to hold Chang captive against his will, but he was still angry, he couldn’t help feeling that the two partners had pulled a fast one on him. Just who was this “Jian Chang” they’d been escorting? What sort of businessman was he, that three assassins and a fighter ship had been sent to kill him?

  Chapter Eight

  Mike was still tight-lipped by the time they arrived back at Asra. Callan decided he’d be wise to keep out of his way for a bit, until Mike had time to settle down and get his teeth into something new. Now was definitely not a good time to ask the Lieutenant out for a friendly drink. He’d spent the entire voyage questioning the crew of the Argos, but had learned little apart from the fact that the unidentified ship had attacked without warning and that Argos had returned fire.

  Mike had called ahead and Medics from the Clinic were waiting to take care of the bodies when they docked at Asra. They would put them in cold storage until Mike’s return, allowing him time to examine the bodies for evidence before Chief Medic Mia Baraky conducted an autopsy. A larger planet would have had a police force to handle this part of the procedure, but smaller colonies had to rely on the Patrol alone more often than not. Most Patrol Officers had a smattering of police skills, but they were scarcely forensic experts. Still, they did what they could. If the case was important enough, the colony, or the officer in question, could call for assistance from Capella.

  The Lieutenant considered his first priority was to accompany the Hummer on its return journey to bring in the derelict ship. One Patrol officer was not enough to do everything that was needed, he thought, thinking of all the work ahead. The sooner Headquarters replied to his request for two extra officers the better. At least he’d be able to start his search of the ship as soon as they got it aboard the Hummer. Surely there would be something to tell him who had organised the attack and hopefully, why.

  Dane Trenwith and Rover escorted the Sprite to Burra without any further dramas, although Dane was on high alert the whole voyage. Thankfully, his job ended when the other ship landed safely at Kapunda, Burra’s principal city. He set the Rover down several landing bays distant with a sigh of relief, careful to catch no glimpse of the Sprite’s occupants. The job had been arranged via wristcom and anonymous credit transfers. He had never met the occupants and in fact saw distinct advantages in never having to. Discretion was paramount in the security business. As far as he was concerned, he had fulfilled his part of the contract by getting them there, and the client had fulfilled his part by transferring the balance of credits owing into the AISS account as soon as the ship landed. Presumably, the client had made other security arrangements for his transport from the spaceport.

  After an hour’s wait, Dane picked up his return cargo, a couple of traders and their spouses returni
ng to Asra after a combined business and shopping trip. Some goods were hard to come by on Asra, especially if there was only a limited demand. There was no wood at all on the tiny planet and the six hand-carved chairs one of the couples had bought were carried on board as carefully as if they were made of gold, and stored securely in the hold.

  Dane hadn’t minded the delay, having used the time to run a few personal errands. Absentmindedly he patted the small packet tucked into his utility belt. He liked the new colour Callan had chosen for his hair, maybe it was time to give his own dark brown locks a new look. He remembered how interested Callan had been in that young man with the white blond hair a week ago. Not that he was seriously chasing Callan of course, but everyone said blonds had more fun. And to be honest, the longer before he had to return to Asra and face Lieutenant Oliver and his myriad of questions, the better. He was pretty sure the Lieutenant wasn’t going to be at all happy with his professions of ignorance, truthful as they were. Oliver wasn’t going to believe that Dane had no idea about the client’s identity, that he had never even seen him, at least not without a lot of arguing.

  He would just have to stick to his story. After all, he was just the pilot, Callan handled the business side of things. It was his job to explain their client to the Lieutenant.

  He wondered idly what Mike Oliver thought of blonds.

  The Hummer retrieved the derelict craft without any trouble, manoeuvring it gently into the vast holding bay. Mike spent the entire return journey examining the contents of the ship, which he discovered was presently listed as the T-113 Comet. A careful inspection of the ship’s log gave him the time the sonic torp had been fired and the time the ship had been hit in turn, confirming the Argos’ version of events, which was a relief. Apart from the rather unusual presence of the sonic torp—a weapon not normally carried by small traders—and the laser guns on the dead assailants, Mike found no other evidence of criminal activity.