ARMS War for Eden

Home > Other > ARMS War for Eden > Page 11
ARMS War for Eden Page 11

by Arseneault, Stephen


  Dawn replied, “Cheap. Two credits a month. Buy five years worth and you get a 20 percent discount. And it’s on a first-come, first-served basis. You want the prime pieces of land, you’ll want to get in early. That’s the plot map over on the wall.”

  Tawn walked over to examine the valley layout.

  Harris crossed his arms as he looked around the sparse office.

  Dawn gestured toward his weapon. “I like your Fox.”

  Harris smiled, “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  Harris replied, “Well, we actually used to sell them. We were suppliers.”

  Dawn reached out her hand. “Can I see it?”

  A suspicious Harris pulled it from its clip, turning it over to the slug.

  “Mmm. I’ve missed my Fox. Kept the same one with me for twelve years. When they rolled us out I was kind of despondent about having to give her up. Would love to have another one.”

  Harris asked, “Nobody out here to sell you one?”

  Dawn sighed. “Nobody out here has one. The colonel is the only resident with a weapon. Not that there’s a ban or anything, just most couldn’t afford one before coming out. Since we discovered a gold vein about three miles from here, everyone has been clamoring for a trader to come out here to take orders.

  “We still only have a modest amount of wealth, but no traders are willing to come this far to supply fifty people. We have one government ship that comes out once a year, but they only deliver the basics. And weapons are not considered a basic.”

  Harris nodded. “I could probably get you a few weapons. Make up a list of what you’d want and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Dawn returned a grin as she handed back the pistol. “You do that, and you’ll make a lot of friends out here.”

  Harris replied, “For my people… I might even be willing to do it at wholesale.”

  Dawn reached down to pet the robotic dog on the head as it eyed her leg. “He’s friendly.”

  The mechanical pest hopped up, grabbing around her kneecap as it began its routine.

  Harris chuckled. “Well, look at that. He just seems to be fond of slugs.”

  Tawn walked back to the woman at the desk with a scowl. “You’ll have to push him away or he won’t respect you. And I’d like to lease plots G16 to G31 please.”

  Dawn pulled her head back slightly in amazement. “Sixteen plots? Did I hear you right?”

  Farker released her leg, taking a seat on the floor beside his new friend as he looked up with admiration.

  Tawn nodded in disgust as she looked at the mechanical pet. “At two credits apiece, it sounds like a bargain.”

  Harris asked, “And what are you gonna do with a hundred sixty acres?”

  Tawn smiled, “You heard her… whatever I want. And I want fifty-year leases on those.”

  Harris said, “Sounds permanent.”

  Dawn tapped away on a tablet at her desk. “That’s fifteen thousand three hundred sixty credits. You sure you want to do that?”

  Tawn glanced back at the plot-map. “You know what? Add from H16 to H31 on to that. And stretch it out to seventy standard years. That’ll take me past a hundred years of age.”

  Harris laughed. “You think we’ll make it to a hundred?”

  Tawn shrugged. “Who knows? We were the first to be genetically engineered this way. We might live to be two hundred.”

  Harris replied, “Or we might live to be fifty.”

  The woman totaled up the lease fee. Tawn gave her approval stamp and transferred the credits.

  “Miss Freely, you are now the proud leaseholder of three hundred twenty acres of prime Retreat real-estate. Welcome to the community!”

  Tawn turned to face Harris. “You might want to get in on this while it’s cheap.”

  Harris laughed. “If I want in at some point I’ll just come and camp on your massive estate in the middle of the valley.”

  Tawn shook her head. “No you won’t. Now go lease something. If anything you can sublease it to needy stumps or slugs in the future.”

  Harris looked at Dawn. “Is subleasing allowed?”

  Dawn nodded. “It’s yours to do with as you will, so long as you follow the rules, respect your neighbors and be a stump or a slug.”

  Harris walked over to the plot map. “I and J, same plots right next to hers. If I don’t make use of them, at least I can sublease to someone that will be a nuisance to her, within the rules of course.”

  Dawn pulled together the lease and Harris gave his stamp. A transfer of credits sealed the deal.

  Tawn smiled. “Howdy, neighbor.”

  Harris chuckled. “Not happening anytime soon. Miss Eureka? Is there anything else to see here in the valley?”

  Dawn glanced at the plot map. “The colonel occupies the north end of the valley. You’ll find the occasional home on the leased plots. This building and that spaceport are the only official buildings. So one quick flyover and you’ve seen it.”

  “And what about the lands outside the valley?”

  Dawn replied, “Those belong to Domicile. You’ll have to register as a pioneer to make a claim. Have to show a valid use at that time. And pay a registration fee. If approved, it becomes yours. Just keep in mind, you have to take up permanent residence for the claim to stick.”

  Harris turned toward the door.

  Tawn asked. “Where you going?”

  “I’m gonna take one quick flyover and then head back to civilization for some lunch. You coming or you want to start work on your homestead?”

  Tawn replied as she followed, “Well I would like to at least set foot on my property. Can we do that as a minimum?”

  “Fine. But we’re flying there and not walking. I can feel the gravity pull on my legs already.”

  As they walked out of the round building, Farker was torn between the two genetically altered, female Biomarines that he so admired. A whistle into Harris’ bracelet saw the robotic dog scampering for the door. The scooters were collected as they approached the ship.

  The Bangor lifted off with Harris at the controls. “Were those on the left or right side of the valley?”

  Tawn replied, “Eastern… right side. From there we’ll get to see the Rabid sun setting.”

  Harris laughed. “You mean you’ll get to see the Rabid sun setting. Unless I can see it from my hotel room back on Chicago Port, I won’t be watching.”

  Tawn shook her head. “You trying to be a buzz-kill? I’m actually excited at the prospect. First time I’ve ever owned land.”

  “You don’t own land. You’re leasing it. And you suckered me into leasing some as well. I guarantee that if you move out here, you’ll be moving back after the first month.”

  Tawn replied, “How about this… if I do move out there, I’ll wager five thousand credits that I would stay at least six months.”

  Harris smiled. “Six months and you can’t leave the planet for any reason. You throw that in and I’ll take that bet.”

  “Agreed,” Tawn said. “I can do six months standing on my head.”

  Harris smirked. “You couldn’t do a week in a luxury hotel. You spending six months out here was a sucker’s bet. And you fell for it. This should be yours coming up on the right.”

  Tawn looked out the viewport. “That’s perfect! Set us down!”

  The hatch opened. Tawn Freely stepped out onto her property with a huge smile on her face. She reached down, taking a clump of the bright green grass in her hand, picking it up and smelling it with her wide nostrils. A glance upward at the ultra-blue sky brought a tear as she shielded her eyes from the bright sun.

  Harris stood behind her in the doorway. “Gonna ruin your sight.”

  Tawn took three steps, climbing up onto a piece of granite that sprung from her property. “This is awesome. I might have to move out here sooner than I thought.”

  Harris looked around. “Granted, it isn’t a bad piece of land. I’d be wanting a few more of the conveniences a cit
y has to offer though.”

  As Tawn turned back to face the ship, two of the muscular dog-like animals emerged from some nearby brush. Both offered intimidating growls along with sharply fanged teeth. Tawn casually pulled her Fox-40, firing off a round into the ground in front of the wild animals. A lump of dirt and grass flew into the air with a zap as the native dogs retreated to the brush from where they had come.

  Harris laughed. “Looks like the local wildlife is friendly.”

  Tawn scowled. “They just need training.”

  The ship was boarded and the run up to free space made. After a jump and a short ride, the Bangor was back in its slip at Chicago Port Station. A quick visit to see Baxter Rumford had a new cache of weapons delivered, but only after the promise was made for another large run to Bella III.

  Once the rental ship was dropped off and the insane transfer of credits again made, the Bangor and her crew made another run out to the Rabid system and down to the colony of Retreat. Feeling generous upon their arrival, they donated enough weapons to form an armory the locals could draw from as needed. As a like-kind measure, Robert Thomas reassigned full ownership of their properties to Tawn Freely and Harris Gruberg.

  An order for supplies was taken, and the small transport returned to the civilized world to fulfill it. A new business opportunity had fallen into the Biomarines’ hands. Harris was all too happy to take it on. As Tawn had predicted, the luxury hotel life of constant eat and drink was beginning to get old.

  Chapter 12

  _______________________

  The Bangor was moored in her slip on Chicago Port Station. Tawn was out looking over materials that could be used to build a home at Retreat. A local architect had been hired to design the home of her dreams. Dreams that she had never before had or contemplated. Everything was new, and every design suggestion exciting and fresh.

  Harris sat on his ship with Farker at his feet, waiting for a delivery from a local supplier. He had promised an immediate return of the materials to Colonel Thomas. The colonel, as it turned out, had trained him in combat maneuvers in his early years as a cadet. Hours of stories had been exchanged during each of the prior visits. Harris had found the talks to be cathartic.

  Farker nudged Harris for a rub as he watched a local news channel.

  An anchorwoman gave a special report. “The unrest on the colony of Eden continues to grow. The protest marches and riots from last month have been replaced by violence. Last week, two of the colony councilmen were found dead of plasma wounds. This week, a new colonist, who had previously been seen in protest opposition, was found dead of a knife wound in an apparent tit-for-tat execution. No suspects are in custody at this time.”

  A second anchor commented, “I thought Eden was a pacifist colony, Kim. They’ve always claimed to abhor violence of any kind.”

  The anchorwoman replied, “Maybe we’re seeing a new Eden, John. As more colonists move out there, and with their lack of any official police force, you are bound to eventually have people with differing opinions come to blows. Anyway, the colony board is sending out a team of investigators.”

  John winced at his co-anchor. “We’ve been hearing about more violence in the outer colonies of late. Given the recent spate of shootings on Bella III and now this. Just this morning there was a report of the chief customs agent on Bella taking his own life. An illegal repeating plasma rifle was found by his side. Are we seeing the beginnings of an epidemic?”

  Kim shrugged. “Hard to say. Kind of makes you appreciate our safe, secure environment here at home, doesn’t it?”

  “Indeed it does,” replied the anchorman named John.

  Tawn stepped up into the ship. “Got some great ideas today. The goods come yet?”

  Harris shook his head. “No. News was just talking about Eden and Bella. You think any of the talk about titanium is real? They seem to have had an influx of colonists lately that don’t share their pacifist beliefs. Three are dead in the last weak. And on Bella they found Mr. Vontmier dead this morning. They’re saying it’s suicide by a plasma weapon. We gave him that rifle.”

  Tawn frowned. “He was nice guy. Must have had problems.”

  “They also said the colony board is sending a team out to investigate. If they look into that they’re gonna see our visits in the logs.”

  Baxter Rumford stepped into the cabin. “No they won’t. Those records have been scrubbed. It seems Mr. Vontmier was on the take for more than one set of deliveries. And with that data gone and now him gone, we have nothing to worry about.”

  Tawn winced. “You did this?”

  “Pfft. No. Look, we aren’t violent people. That was much more likely to have been drug related. I’ve heard Bella is a partying place.” Bax said.

  Harris asked, “How’d you get in here?”

  Tawn replied, “That would be me. I left the hatch open for the delivery.”

  Bax said, “Speaking of that. Would you be interested in making a run out to Geldon? I have a buyer in wait out there.”

  Harris shook his head. “No thanks. We’re out of that business. Have a lawful, regulated supply business going now. We don’t need anymore credits.”

  Bax crossed her arms. “Too bad. Pays the same as the last two. Just a simple drop and run.”

  Tawn said, “You know, we could actually spend those credits at the Retreat, for the other residents.”

  Harris frowned. “I’m really not interested in doing that anymore. You’re welcome to make that run yourself, but I don’t want any part of it.”

  Tawn rubbed her chin. “Would you just meet me out there for a pickup?”

  Harris sighed. “You’re gonna have to start closing the hatch. Too many flies getting in.”

  “So is that a yes or no?”

  Harris gave a half smile, half frown. “If you’re set on doing this, I guess I could swing out there after I drop off the colonel’s stuff.”

  Tawn turned to Bax. “Sign me up. When do we leave?”

  Bax grinned. “We’re ready to go now. I can take you out.”

  Tawn placed her hand on Harris shoulder. “I’ll be waiting at the spaceport on Geldon.”

  As the Biomarine followed Baxter Rumford out through the hatch, Harris looked down at his dog. “I don’t trust her. None of these deals are right. Are we burying ourselves here? Can we expect Colony Board agents to be knocking on our door?”

  Farker farked three times.

  Harris laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. And I’ll see to it that this is the last run with Rumford.”

  ***

  The drop at the Retreat and then the pick up from Geldon was made. A return to the Retreat saw the establishment of a fund, seeded with ten million credits, that would be used to bring slugs and stumps to the Rabid system. Free leases, starter homes, and food for a year would be provided, giving any who chose to come a chance to get established.

  After an ad was taken out on Domicile, three hundred thirty-two applicants were flown out to their new homes. All were grateful, and all promised to do their best to not only contribute, but to also welcome any others that would come. In the month that followed, the population of the Retreat swelled to more than twenty-two hundred… all slugs and stumps who had chosen to try life among their own.

  The Bangor docked at Chicago Port Station.

  Baxter Rumford was waiting outside as the hatch opened. “I have another job for you.”

  Tawn shook her head. “Sorry. We’re finished. I appreciate the offer, but we have our own thriving, legit business going making supply runs to outer colony customers. Certainly not as profitable as what you offer, but we’re not under any legal threat.”

  Baxter winced. “Hmm. Not what I was hoping to hear. Too bad though. My suppliers need this last run done immediately. The pay is double the last one, same type of drop.

  Tawn replied, “Not interested.”

  Baxter sighed. “OK, but just so you know, my suppliers are the ones who made those records on Bella disappear. I supp
ose they could make them reappear as well. Would be a shame if that were to happen.”

  Harris stepped forward. “So it’s come to blackmail? That fast? You know if we go down, you’re going down with us. We have all the logs of our interactions recorded right here on the Bangor.”

  Baxter laughed. “Well that just makes you an idiot, doesn’t it? An investigation is getting underway and you’re keeping records of your criminal activity? I would have thought you two would be better than that.”

  Tawn scowled. “Where would this delivery be heading?”

  “To Bella. There’s a new customs agent there who’s in need of paying off a few debts. And I promise you, this is the last delivery. After this, you won’t see me or the Fargo again. This is my ticket out of the arms trade too. And just so you know this isn’t a setup, I’ve been asked to ride out with you. I will require a ride back though.”

  Tawn scratched her chin. “Pays double, you say?”

  Harris shook his head. “You aren’t seriously considering this are you?”

  “And you’re certain this is the last haul?”

  Bax nodded. “It’s the last of the supply they have available, so I’m certain. Look, I want out of this business, too. I’ve made my share of profits. Time for Baxter Rumford to go out and enjoy the spoils of wealth.”

  Harris said, “I still don’t get why you can’t make this run yourself.”

  “As I said before, you two are registered as licensed traders on Bella III. Just as before, the records will state it was a delivery of household goods. There will be an equivalent record on Domicile showing the same. Unless they catch us with the cargo, there’s no tie back to us.

  “Oh, and did I mention Bonn Herrick is no longer around? And before you get upset, his flyerlight went down in a windstorm. We had nothing to do with it.”

  Tawn replied, “There’s still the several hundred buyers who attended the first auction. They all got a good look at us. You aren’t likely to forget a stump and a slug.”

  Bax shrugged. “I can’t help you with that one. I can’t fix stupid. Anyway, this run and we’re done.”

  Baxter Rumford clasped her hands together. “So who’s ready for one last payoff?”

 

‹ Prev