by T. R. Harris
“Correct, and the Gracilians report that negotiations have resumed as of yesterday,” Jym reported.
“They have? How?” Adam asked.
“Unknown, yet obviously not by video link.”
“That’s it! Jym, you’re a genius. They’re not broadcasting with video,” Adam said. “They would try to remain anonymous and broadcast by audio only. Can you create a program that will search for words and phrases instead of video images?”
“Yes, but that will generate magnitudes of additional hits.”
“Search for Human English only and include words like dark matter, collector, Aris, negotiations, I’ll work on more.”
“I can do that. But out of trillions of conversations, there will still be hundreds, even thousands of hits.”
“How about by region? Can you isolate it to just the Kidis?”
“That I cannot do, not until I get the results. Then I can define each by location.”
“Good, write your program and then rerun the data from yesterday. You haven’t dumped the data yet, have you?”
“I was preparing to. It will take me a couple of hours to work this through. I will link with you when I get the initial results.”
Jym got back to Adam three hours later, and he was right. There were fourteen thousand results, although none mentioned the Aris or Sherri and Copernicus together. There were a lot of hits identifying people named Sherri, but none with enough of the other terms to be considered in the final batch.
Adam had added the phrase cut a deal in the search terms, something he figured would be distinctly Human when discussing business negotiations. He was right. There were fourteen hundred references. It seemed there were a lot of Humans out in the galaxy trying to cut deals.
In the end, Jym and Adam weeded the fourteen hundred down to six hundred eighty. From there, Jym was able to screen by comm district. They eliminated all but those coming from the Kidis Frontier, leaving one hundred nine. From here they began to look at the individual results, and the ones that sounded the most like what was being negotiated.
With the locations pinpointed, Adam then compared these to the proximity to the research station. One stood out from the others.
“Navior…what do we know about it?” Adam asked.
Both he and Jym had the planet called up in the galactic internet called the Library.
“The Gradis Cartel runs the planet,” Jym said. “Believed to be the headquarters, although they are diversified throughout the Frontier.”
“Coop used to work for the Gradis. He would know the planet.”
“Does he intend to sell the collector to the Cartel?”
“I don’t know. All they would do is turn around and sell it to someone else. I don’t see why Sherri and Coop would want to involve a middleman.”
“Middleman?”
“Someone to get in between them and all the money they could make. That would cost them millions if they did. They’ll want to go direct.”
“How far are you from Navior?” Jym asked.
Adam did some quick calculations. “I can be there in about nine hours. Where’s Kaylor?”
“He left Formil five days ago with a new power module. He should be in the Frontier in three more days. He’s on his way but may not be able to provide much support should you needed it, not in nine hours.”
“I’ll be fine. He’s just a backup anyway. Keep him on track. It sounds like the negotiations are still going, so we may have time to stop them.”
Jym beamed on the screen. “We have found them!” he exclaimed.
“Possibly,” Adam said. “Let’s just hope we’re not too late.”
8
To Sherri and Coop’s amazement, the spaceport operator had six hundred eighty JCs on him. That was a lot of money for a native to be carrying around. Coop figured he received five hundred just for letting the Cartel take the starship.
They drove the native’s car to another city two hundred miles to the west, one with a sub-orbital transportation hub. They couldn’t very well drive halfway around the planet, not in the time they had. They would ditch the car and take a quick hop to the Cartel-rich city of Vansis.
Copernicus had considered trying to sell the car for some quick money but that wasn’t possible on Navior. One would think that a planet rife with illegal cartels would be a cesspool of crime and debauchery. But that wasn’t the case. With so many Cartel members within the population, it wasn’t wise to steal a car, rob a house or even mug a person for fear of a Cartel member being the victim. That wouldn’t be a healthy thing to do. So instead, Copernicus and Sherri opened the windows in the transport, and under the cover of night, pushed it into a lake not far from the spaceport.
In the terminal, they took turns catching some sleep waiting for the midnight jump to Vansis. The flight was only twenty minutes from liftoff to touchdown, just enough time for them to go through half a dozen plans for reacquiring the dark matter collector—and then to reject them all. They had no idea what they would be up against, so any initial plans were just speculation, even wishful thinking.
The Cartel had its own spaceport, but the commercial flight landed at the municipal facility twenty miles away. They needed another car, yet had no qualifying identification with which to rent one. So they entered a transport cab and instructed the driver to take them to the sprawling complex where the leader of the Gradis Cartel lived.
Copernicus had been there several times before, although never in the actual living quarters. At the time he was active, he had been something of a novelty—a Human working for the Cartel. As a result, he was often challenged to not-so-friendly fighting matches among the enforcers of the syndicate, testing to see if the rumors of the short, pink creatures were true. It didn’t pay for Coop to reveal too much, just enough to earn their respect. After all, he was a mechanic, not a warrior. He gave them a show and then humbly returned to his tasks.
Cartel runners often used their own ships to haul the gang’s contraband, be it drugs, guns or slaves. They didn’t earn a lot for their efforts, which often meant their spaceship weren’t very well maintained. When they broke down—and they did often—it was imperative that they be fixed quickly and discreetly. That’s where Copernicus came in. He would take any job, and keep his mouth shut. That made him a favorite of the Cartels, and not only the Gradis. There were five different gangs operating within the Kidis Frontier, but Gradis was the largest.
Frandon G’Bur had been a brilliant organizer back when Copernicus knew him, but more of a behind-the-scenes guy than the bombastic, forceful leader type. However, times had changed for the cartels. When Lila took over the Expansion—and by extension, the Union—she set out a strict law-and order policy which extended even to the fringe areas of the galaxy such as the Frontier. The Juireans had once occupied the Kidis in an attempt to stage an invasion of the Union from the neighboring spur of the galaxy where the Frontier was located. Adam Cain had messed up their plans when he took a trans-dimensional starship—powered by Zee, the recently-discovered service module of the Aris—and proceeded to launch a scorched earth campaign from the Kidis all the way to the planet Juir. Union forces followed in his wake, and when he was done, the Juirean grip on the galaxy—including the Kidis—had been broken.
That’s when Adam’s daughter Lila took over and moved the capital of the galaxy to her homeworld of Formil. Being an immortal mutant genius, no one could stand against her, and for the first time in four thousand years, there was peace in the galaxy.
After the Juireans left the Kidis Frontier, there was a major effort to make the region more civilized, more organized, at least enough to join either the Expansion or the Union, or to create a third galactic empire. The influence of the cartels began to wane, or at least for their most-abhorrent criminal activities, such as slave-trading. But even budding empires needed weapons, and the cartels were the most-natural conduit for such commodities. And drugs. The truth was that people—be they Human or alien—always needed drugs.
As a consequence of the new direction the Gradis Cartel was taking, they needed more of a Chief Executive Officer rather than a Godfather. Frandon G’Bur was the natural choice.
The Humans still needed independent transportation, free of the cab driver’s scrutiny. So in a moment of weakness and desperation, Sherri came up with a plan she truly felt sorry for.
She had the transport driver drop her off, leaving Coop in the car. Copernicus then instructed the driver to continue on before having him turn around and drop him off a little ways down the road.
The driver called into his base and reported that the fare had been dropped off and then continued down the road looking for a new customer. That’s when Sherri appeared and flagged him down. He didn’t call in the stop, since he knew Sherri. Had she left something in the car? He pulled over…and that’s when she knocked him unconscious and took the transport. She sincerely hoped the driver wouldn’t get in trouble for getting his car stolen. It wasn’t his fault.
She picked up Copernicus and the pair proceeded to the Cartel headquarters to scope out the landing field and the grouping of huge, oddly-shaped buildings that made up the complex. Coop figured Frandon wouldn’t keep the dark matter collector on the ship; it was small enough to be carried into one of the buildings. And something with such value would be placed closed to the leader, just so he could gloat over it. Frandon would have the device with him.
But where was Frandon?
Before leaving the spaceport terminal, the Humans had bought a pair of huge rain coats, although it wasn’t raining. But the outfits had hoods. They also picked up a pair of binoculars, knowing they would have to survey the complex. Now Coop stood on top of the stolen cab looking over the low wall of the complex.
As mentioned, there was very little crime on Navior, and especially against Cartel members. That was also true for the organization’s headquarters. Sure, there were guards around, but not many. The syndicate’s enemies were off planet, in the form of governments and other cartels. They had very little to fear on the surface.
Even so, Sherri and Coop figured Frandon would expect them to come after the collector. It would be suicide, of course, but they were Humans after all, so nothing could be counted out. If anything, extra guards would be posted and sentries on the lookout.
“He’s in that large bubble-like building on the left,” Coop reported. “It’s the tallest, and big-shots always want the penthouse suite. The other buildings are offices or apartments.”
The apartment building was a long, six story combination of domes stacked on top of each other. Large windows, spacious balconies and manicured landscaping all made the cluster housing a nice benefit for the higher-up capos of the Cartel. Coop frowned. They never offered him a nice apartment with all utilities paid and free cable….
He hopped down from the top of the car.
“Hopefully they’re having the same trouble with their CW links as we did and haven’t cut a deal yet,” Sherri said. She looked to her left and the cartel spaceport, with the silhouettes of several starships off in the distance. “Once we get the thing, we still need a way off the planet, and chem drive will only get us so far. After that we better make sure the gravity drive is working.”
“And we won’t be able to disable any of the Cartel ships. They’ll be on us like stink on s—”
“Then maybe we should hide out on the surface, at least until we can close a deal with one of the bidders. Then we’ll have the money to get away.”
Coop smiled. “Do you realize how big a load sixty million credits would be? We’d have one hell of a time hiding that. And when we left the planet we’d have to hire an army of guards just to make sure no one steals it from us.”
“You wouldn’t have them put the credits into an account somewhere?”
“After what happened to us on Earth? Not a chance. Besides, I’ve dealt with people like this before. Real deals are always in cash. We’d only tip our hand that we’re rookies if we did otherwise.”
“I bow to your superior knowledge of back-alley deals and Cartel cutthroats. So, how are we going to get the DMC?” Sherri asked.
“I thought we could go in with guns a-blazing and kill every alien in sight.”
“Now you’re channeling Adam again. Not that I’m not tempted, but let’s try the subtle approach first.” She leaned over and gave Coop a hard, sloppy kiss. “In case we don’t make it out alive.”
“Not going to happen,” Copernicus said with a smile. “We’re the heroes; we always make it out alive.”
They spent the next hour driving around the complex before deciding their best approach would be from the spaceport. There were few guards along the way and even fewer four-wheeled carts moving between the port and the complex. It was nearing dawn, and already the sky to the east was growing lighter. This was the time when guards were tired and the new ones hadn’t started their shifts.
With the huge coats covering their bodies and dragging the ground—the garments were made for the taller Navioreans—Sherri and Copernicus hopped the wall surrounding the spaceport and ran among the silent starships, towering above them like dinosaurs in the night. There was a maintenance shack along one side of the field with an electric cart parked outside. A dim light burned within the building.
It only took Coop a second to take out the worker inside the shack. The cart didn’t need a key, and a moment later they were cruising along at the breakneck speed of eight miles per hour so as to not draw any attention.
They received no challenges as they entered the main complex and pulled up to the base of the tallest building. It was a decidedly alien structure similar to the others surrounding it, only larger and taller. This is where the leader of the galaxy’s largest criminal syndicate would live. Looking to be made of hardened polyurethane foam, it began with a grouping of twenty-one domes at ground level, and then smaller groupings stacked on top, reaching into the sky. Balconies and windows were cut within the levels all the way up. At the top was a single dome with a wrap-around terrace and wide windows.
Coop continued around the base of the building, avoiding the main entrance and the cadre of guards on duty. There were several side entrances, used by workers and for deliveries. He parked the cart within a row of others before he and Sherri headed for an open door that a native, pulling a handcart with boxes loaded on top, had just entered. No one stopped them as they followed the native into the building.
The bright light inside assailed their eyes, blinding them momentarily. The room was filled with workers, all preparing for the new day in the huge building. There was food to prepare, housekeeping to be done and maintenance to be performed. Coop saw a worker’s tool belt lying on a table and scooped it up. They stepped into a long corridor and hurried away.
Fifty feet along, they heard a group of aliens approaching down the curved hallway, talking loudly as they drew near. Coop rushed to a panel embedded in the wall, pulled out an extracting tool and removed the cover. He and Sherri buried their hooded heads inside the opening, tools in their hands, as the group of nine guards paraded by. No one questioned the maintenance crew at work in the corridor, even if they were in raincoats instead of uniforms. It was the end of the shift and the guards were going home.
Like in all tall buildings there were elevators, but the bank of doors they came to were color coded. They had no idea which one would take them to the top. Frandon would take the highest floor in the complex so he could look down upon his empire. But which elevator would take them to the penthouse?
They looked for one with a security lock but found none. There had to be an express elevator, but they had no idea of the color priority of the natives. Did green mean the same here as it did on Earth? Or was gold the universal sign for wealth and power? They studied the doors, having to duck around a corner when one opened and two aliens exited the cab.
The Gradis Cartel was made up of hundreds of different species, so the number of native Navioreans was fewer within the building as com
pared to other species. This helped the Humans, since their size and odd clothing fit in well with the menagerie of other creatures now walking about.
Sherri noticed an elevator door at the center of the row. Thinking how the building tapered to a point at the center of the structure, she reasoned the other elevators could go only so far before reaching the limit for that part of the building. The one in the center could go all the way up. She ran to the door and pressed the panel.
The Humans stepped inside and were rewarded with only two buttons on the wall. The bottom button would send the elevator down, the other one up…all the way to the top. The door closed and the journey began.
They took out their MK-17s and checked the settings; level-two, good enough to kill most aliens, and full charges. They wished they had the new MK-88X model, but they were on the missing starship. Even without them, Sherri and Copernicus were ready when the door opened.
It was a long ride to the top. Fortunately, there were no other stops along the way, and when the door opened, their intuition was rewarded. They were in a circular corridor with plush carpeting, walls with waves of built-in relief and strange artwork resting in various crevasses. A number of wide doors lined the corridor, leading to rooms that would reach to the outer walls of the dome. There was also an odd smell, which wasn’t unusual. All aliens had an odd smell.
Coop led the way into the corridor, with Sherri backing him up. All was quiet, too quiet. There wasn’t a guard in sight, which was unusual if Frandon was expecting them. Maybe they got here faster than he was—
The corridor suddenly went pitch black, followed by heavy footsteps on the carpeting. Coop was laid out by a heavy blow to the back of his head, while Sherri took an electric shock to the chest. Neither of them saw their attackers before falling to the soft, almost welcoming, cushion of the floor.
9
Consciousness came reluctantly to Copernicus. He remembered the room going dark and the teeth-jarring hit to the back of his skull by something hard and metallic. Now he was on his back, on a soft bed of some kind, hesitant to open his eyes knowing that the bright light penetrating his eyelids would bring even more pain to his already throbbing head.
