“Soft glowing metal, just like the Z'Sorth said,” Richter whispered.
“It’s radioactive,” said John. “I hope Seth would have mentioned if it was dangerous.”
“I doubt that it is,” said Christie. “Not only would Seth have mentioned it, but if it was dangerous by itself I imagine it would be much more valuable. Plus, the people in this part of the galaxy don’t seem stupid enough to leave dangerous materials lying around like this.”
“They seem at least as smart as humans, which is hardly reassuring, Christie.”
“Tritium isn’t dangerous,” said Richter. “I think we’ll be fine.”
John took the metal pieces and put them in his backpack. Richter motioned towards the canyon and the team reassembled.
“I just noticed something odd,” Ari whispered to Richter.
“What’s that?”
“When we stepped off of the ship in Metzqual, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When we left the town, the feeling went away. That same feeling just started back up again.”
“When, just now?”
“Like three seconds ago, yes.”
“It’s probably just your spidey-senses, Wildcat.”
The team approached the edge of the canyon. Below, a building had been constructed into the side of the canyon wall. Firelight flickered from a few of the windows.
“Looks like somebody’s home,” whispered John.
“There’s also a humming sound,” said Ari. “I thought I was imagining it, but it’s like that sound back in Metzqual.”
“Yeah,” began Christie, “there was a humming sound in town. It seemed to be everywhere, with no distinct source. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”
Richter looked at Ari with a curious expression.
“God will protect us during this great struggle,” he said.
“Since when are you a religious man?” replied Ari.
“Cover!” hissed Richter.
Despite the sudden surprise that Richter caused in the others, they sprinted smoothly for the elevator control building and pressed up against it.
“What the fuck?” breathed Ari.
“I said that phrase in Arabic,” Richter whispered.
Spotlights from the tops of the two other buildings flashed to life. Christie and Ray found themselves caught in the stunning brightness. Ray grabbed Christie’s arm and pulled her around the corner with the others.
“Don’t move!” exclaimed a voice from the roof of the northern building. “We’ve got your position covered!”
Ari growled. “If somebody says, ‘they must have a buffer zone,’ they’re going to get punched in the...”
“We come in peace!” yelled John.
Ray laughed involuntarily, and quickly stifled himself.
“Identify yourself!” the voice commanded.
“My name is Scherer. My friends and I are Perditian traders. We’re here to purchase Talvanium.”
“Advance one to be recognized.”
John handed his rifle to Ray, and walked into the light. He strode about five meters forward, virtually blinded.
“That’s far enough. Look towards the light on your left.”
John did so.
“We have Residerian credits,” he said. “I hope you’ll accept them.”
“Stand by.”
There was a smattering of low conversation from above. John considered showing them the credits, but that would require reaching into one of his pockets.
“You’re a long way from home,” the voice said.
“Our needs are rather specific.”
“You can’t find what you need within two hundred thousand light years?”
“I said we’re looking for Talvanium. You know perfectly well there are only two places to get it. We rather rapidly discovered we sure weren’t going to get any from the Umberians.”
“What do you need Talvanium for?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Fair enough. Let’s see the cash.”
John pointed towards his pocket, and when there was no objection he reached in and withdrew the credits.
“Tell you friends to come out with their weapons slung.”
Turning back towards the elevator control building, John beckoned the others forward. The spotlights were lowered to a point directly in front of John. This allowed him to see the Residerian that was approaching from the northern building.
“You’re still covered, so don’t try anything,” the Residerian said.
When he was on the other side of the pool of light, the Residerian stopped.
“My name is Ianove. I represent the mining conglomerate.”
“I thought this mine was abandoned,” John replied.
“The conglomerate would never abandon a perfectly good mine. We’ve simply suspended operation for the time being. When demand goes back up, we’ll go right back into production.”
“It doesn’t seem like demand for Talvanium will go back up any time soon.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Don’t call your shareholders just yet. We only need one hundred and thirty-two pounds.”
“Curious. You must be doing research and development.”
“Correct.”
“I wish you the best of luck. The best scientists on Residere Beta have been working for a decade and they haven’t been able to replicate Umberian technology. If you do succeed, give them a call. Your civilization stands to make a lot of money if you share the information with them. And you’ll need, of course, a lot more than a hundred and thirty pounds of Talvanium. I’d love to be the one to sell it to you, but I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now let’s get down to business. What’s this stuff going to cost us?”
“Just in case you do come back some day, I’ll offer you the low introductory price of one credit per pound.”
John grimaced. “That’s a lot more than we were expecting. It’s certainly a lot more than it’s currently worth. We know that much already.”
“You are more than welcome to try dealing with the Zendreen, sir.”
“I’ll give you a hundred credits for the lot. It’s more than fair.”
“The price is not negotiable.”
“Have you ever heard of the planet Mars?”
“What? No.”
“The civilization there is pre-space travel. Our sources have definitively identified that Talvanium is available there. It’s much further out of our way than Residere, but it’s still an option. We have ethical concerns about landing on their planet and taking the Talvanium, and we can’t wait around for them to develop interplanetary travel. However, if you can’t accommodate us we will make an exception.”
“I find it hard to believe that you’d go through all of that trouble to save a hundred credits.”
“We only have a hundred, pal. We could travel all the way back to Metzqual, trade for more credits, and come back here, sure. There’s something you should know about Perditians, though. We hate getting ripped off and we don’t easily forget a grudge. Our superiors would sooner send us to Mars than have us return here to pay your outrageous price.”
“I’ll tell you what. I like that slug-thrower the female is holding.”
Ianove pointed at Ari.
“You mean her rifle?”
“Yes. How much ammunition do you have for it?”
“I have eighty rounds left,” said Ari.
“Give me her weapon, all of her ammunition, and one magazine each from the other two. How much ammunition would that be?”
“There are twenty rounds per magazine. That would be one hundred and twenty rounds total.”
“That, plus your hundred credits, and we have a deal.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do if we get ambushed on the way back?” Ari said indignantly.
“Take my rifle,” said Ray. “I’ll take the Remington. We’ll be fine.”
/>
“One more thing and we have a deal,” began John. “Include a comfortable place for us to sleep for several hours.”
Ianove smiled. “That goes without saying. There’s something you should know about Residerians. We know how to treat guests.”
__________
“It’s terrible. I can’t be more than three feet from a bucket at any time. I have to keep drinking water just so my stomach has something to...”
“All right, all right, for the love of the core, stay home. We’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks, Chief. Rylie out.”
Fernwyn leaned back in her sofa chair and sighed. That was one thing taken care of. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her tracking monitor. Still nothing. That was the next thing to tackle. Fernwyn activated a communications channel and waited.
Nathalier’s visage appeared on the screen.
“Officer Rylie. It’s good to see you again so soon.”
“Same here, sergeant. Listen, I was hoping you could help me out again.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I tracked that alien ship to Residere Alpha. It seems fairly obvious now that they’re trying to obtain Talvanium. I managed to tag one of the crew with a tracker module, but when he returned to the ship the signal was disrupted. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised about that.”
“You mean because of the invisibility field?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you confront them when you had the chance?”
“Well, first of all some of the crew had gone out to procure the Talvanium. If I put myself in the way of them completing their objectives, I might have been taken as a hostile and dealt with appropriately. Furthermore, I was acting on my own. I was out of uniform and certainly out of SPF jurisdiction. If it came down to it I wouldn’t have been able to effect an arrest. Finally, I was simply outnumbered. There will be a better time to contact them. If I was right about which mine they were planning to visit, there’s still plenty of time before they return. That’s why I called you.”
“What can I possibly do for you, Rylie?”
“You mentioned it already. The invisibility field. Your sensors were trained on that ship when it disappeared, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you analyzed the data stream yet?”
“We’ve been ordered to close that case, Rylie. Empire doesn’t wish to get in the way of the Black Crest or the SPF.”
“You didn’t delete it, did you?”
“No. It’s not our policy to do so. You never know when something like that might be useful for twisting someone’s arm.”
“Ha. Passive aggressive, as always. Can you send me the data recordings?”
“Not without being noticed. I can do it in person.”
Fernwyn leapt to her feet. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’ll contact you upon arrival to let you know which landing platform I get.”
“Okay. I’ll prepare a disc for you. Have you had lunch yet?”
“What? Er, no.”
“Then why not meet on the food concourse? It’ll be a perfect cover for our meeting.”
“That’s not a bad idea, except that Rakhar generally don’t approve of interspecies relationships.”
“Did I say it was a date? Besides, things are a lot more libertine here than other parts of the galaxy. I doubt even if that’s the impression we give that we’ll raise any eyebrows. Half the guys here think I have a hairless fetish because of you anyway.”
Fernwyn laughed. “Good enough. I’ll see you on the concourse. Rylie out.”
After stretching her limbs Fernwyn began to gather her things. If she was lucky, there would be something in the data stream that would help her find a way around the invisibility shield. She wasn’t comfortable confronting the crew about their intentions until she knew more about them, and doing it alone certainly seemed like a poor idea. She needed more evidence to convince her superiors that the case deserved their attention, evidence compelling enough to overcome the influence of the Black Crest. So far she had almost nothing. If she couldn’t find a way to track the ship before they departed Alpha, she’d be back to square one.
After spending a moment trying to decide how many magazines to take with her, Fernwyn holstered her sidearm and headed for the door. Something stopped her before she exited. There had been a thought gnawing at her subconscious, a memory that couldn’t find enough daylight to surface. It was catching a glimpse of herself in her civilian clothing in her hall mirror that did it. She wore a long, brown coat, high boots and a tunic belted at the waist, and looked very much the rogue. Everybody knew that the Zendreen bounty had been renewed, and everybody assumed that the ship was Umberian. The memory in question had more than just stopped her in her tracks. It scared the hell out of her.
The Zendreen were not the only enemies of Umber.
14.
The ship did not have a name. To name a ship required either imagination or inspiration. To the captain, it needed a name no more than a hammer or a vise.
It was a small ship, relatively speaking. Four decks and fifty-two meters from stem to stern. It hadn’t been built for style or for show, and in the eleven years since it was built the captain had used it in a manner directly related to the ship’s purpose.
The Umberian Mark XVII was a long range, search and destroy fighter craft. It nominally employed a crew of forty, but the captain had never needed more than half that number. The design was only a year old when the captain had acquired the ship, and for most of the following decade it was the best fighter craft in the entire Magellanic Cloud. Only recently had one or two Residerian/Z'Sorth designs matched it, and such a weighing was a dead heat. In fact, it was this ship in particular that had inspired the designs that rivaled it, as survival is often the best impetus for advancing technology.
The captain’s name was Aldebaran, terror of the Tarantula Nebula.
The first mate’s name was Tomn Harrish, and he was the second man to hold the title. The first one had ceased to be useful to Aldebaran, and then he had ceased to be. That was five years ago, a length of time that had passed rapidly for Harrish.
The first mate on this ship had to be capable of everything the captain was not, so it was fortunate for Harrish that he was so versatile. Morale was one thing that was Harrish’s responsibility. It had been more important this year than previously. It was not a good year to be a pirate.
The new ships to come out of the Residere system could repel Aldebaran’s ship if they met on a two-to-one basis and if their captains were of above average skill. With both Empire Security and many mercenary guilds now running escorts with these ships, it was becoming more and more difficult to take a prize. Many pirates had either retired or left the cloud in search of easier pickings. Word of turf wars between pirate ships had even begun to circulate, violating the code of honor that usually bound them. All of this served to discourage everyone, including those falling under Harrish’s concern. He usually only had to remind them of their place in the pecking order, however, for those grumblings to be quashed.
Aldebaran was the most prolific and successful pirate in the cloud. His crew was the richest as a result. Any one of them could retire as a millionaire whenever they chose. The eighteen men and women aboard currently chose to stay to seek further fame and fortune. It was because of this unending desire to increase their wealth and reputations that Aldebaran kept them aboard beyond their ability to simply do their jobs. Occasionally a crewmember would take stock of their wealth and lose their willingness to die for Aldebaran, at which point they were invited to retire. A pirate cannot be concerned for his or her own life, that was a central tenet.
Harrish was in the galley finishing his evening meal and preparing the daily briefing for his captain. Today’s briefing included an important preliminary report that Harrish had been carefully preparing for a few days. He was waiting for that critical moment
when the report would be important enough to give to the captain, but not so pressing that it would seem to be late in coming. Leitke, the engineer, dozed quietly at the next table over. He’d just spent several hours straight working on a crucial repair, and had barely finished a meal before falling asleep.
Satisfied in both repast and reconnaissance, Harrish stood up and climbed the stairs to the ‘tween deck. It was a short walk past the officer’s quarters to the door to the grand cabin, where the captain spent most of his off hours. He pressed a key next to the door three times, triggering a corresponding flashing light on the interior. The door opened, indicating the captain’s willingness for company. Harrish entered, closing the door behind him.
As always, the grand cabin was completely dark save for the starlight through the windows. Aldebaran sat silently behind his desk, his expression unseen but easily guessed. Despite having done this almost every day for five years, Harrish still felt a twinge of adrenaline upon entering. He crossed to a leather sofa chair on the right side of the desk.
“Would you like the daily report now, sir?”
“Yes,” said Aldebaran in his typically flat tone.
Harrish sat down and cleared his throat.
“No unusual transmissions or activity from Distare, first of all. No ships have passed within a hundred thousand kilometers of us. No sensors have been aimed in our direction.” Harrish paused as if waiting for a response, even though he did not expect any. “The Mark Sevens are fully recharged. Leitke figured out why the energy was bleeding off and repaired them. I took the liberty of deactivating the dissipation field after that since it was no longer needed. All other systems are nominal, and the crew is sound. I have a special report for you, too.”
“Proceed.”
“Four days ago a ship arrived at Umber and began attacking the Zendreen defense satellites. Shortly thereafter the Zendreen renewed their bounty on Umberians. Three days ago this same ship landed at Gleeful Complexium on Residere Beta. The energy signature was confirmed to be Umberian. Mercenaries from the Black Crest attempted a corral at the Complexium, but were not successful. The ship escaped to parts unknown. The Solar Police Force is not pursuing the case, but the merc frequencies are buzzing about it.”
The Tarantula Nebula Page 18
