Piece of Nicias: A Sci-Fi Novel

by Francis J Coyle

  Simmons grabbed Ire’s arm abruptly.

  “We need to go now.” Simmons said.

  He keyed his comms and asked Mercer to send assistance. Behind them they heard a shout.

  “Faster.” Simmons said. He glanced back.

  Four of the marines had drawn weapons and were hurrying after them. A tourist started to scream at the sight of the drawn weapon and the people on the concourse scattered like frightened quail.

  “Just a few metres more.” Simmons said.

  Ahead he could see his ship. Lieutenant Hammond exited the ship with half a dozen Peace Officers. One of the Peace Officers, Lea was her name Simmons remembered, was carrying a very heavy looking gauss rifle.

  “Stop or we’ll shoot.”

  The shout from behind them sounded very close. Simmons glanced behind. One of the strange marines had halted and was pointing a laser pistol at his back. Simmons grabbed Ire’s arm again and dragged her to the floor.

  “I’ve got a clear shot shall I take it sir?”

  “No, hold your fire.” Hammond shouted. His voice echoed across the concourse. “Everyone hold their fire or this is going to get very messy.”

  Simmons looked back under his arm from where he was lying on the concourse floor. The four strange marines were closer but had stopped. Hesitation played across their faces as their realised that they were both outnumbered and outgunned. One of them keyed his radio and Simmons could hear him asking for instructions.

  Hands grabbed his shoulders. Hammond helped him up and they walked with Ire towards their ship. Lea covered their retreat, her gauss rifle looked enormous in her elegant hands. Lea saw him looking.

  “The rifle belongs to Stan.” She shrugged, which made the huge weapon wobble slightly. She corrected it. “When you called for help I thought the sight of this elephant gun would be more eloquent.”

  “Who are they?” Hammond asked.

  “You do not want to know.” Simmons said. “But it will mean trouble for us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Stan could never make an entrance without making a lot of noise. The ship was no different.

  “Why is everyone looking so glum today?” Stan shouted.

  He had got as far as the kitchen before demanding some food. The seven Peace Officers sat at one of the kitchen tables. Tyler Hart tried to sit next to them but slid off the chair, landing on the floor in a heap. He was noisily sick. Stan hauled him back to the chair.

  “Hart is my hero.” Stan said.

  “What happened to you?” Lea asked.

  All eight of them, Hart included, were very drunk. They were also covered in cuts and bruises. A lump on Stan’s forehead was starting to discolour and swell.

  “We had the chance to exercise our extremely honed fighting skills on several of the locals.” Stan said. “The local security reviewed the tapes and agreed that the fight was not our fault. We were awarded enough compensation to pay for several rounds of beer as well as a bottle of Bubbles for this fine chap.”

  “Why is he the hero?”

  “He single handedly argued for our immediate release and used some obscure rule for compensation.” Stan said. “It must come from all those years spent arguing with us Peace Officers.”

  Hart blearily raised his head.

  “It helps that I’m very anal with details.” Hart said. He said the word ‘anal’ again and then started giggling.

  “He can’t hold his drink either.” Stan said. “Half way through the bottle of bubbles he dropped the bottle and started complaining the whiskey was not triple distilled then threw half of it back up.”

  Stan jumped aside as Hart threw up again.

  “Come now hero, let’s get you to bed.” Stan said.

  He helped Hart to his feet and staggered towards the door. The passageway was narrow so it was difficult to carry Hart to the engine room.

  Rawlins wrinkled his nose.

  “Not only do we have to put up with this incompetent weasel but the compartment is going to smell bad for the next week.” Rawlins said.

  Rivan and Rawlins managed to manoeuvre their drunk companion to his bed. They left him there, a bucket next to his head in case he threw up again.

  “Your turn for some R and R.” Rawlins said. He glanced once back at the sleeping compartment. “Mind you don’t come back quite so drunk and be careful.”

  Rivan muttered his thanks and ran to get changed. Rawlins checked Hart was still sleeping and left him alone. At least he couldn’t cause any more problems while asleep.

  *

  “I think it is an honest offer.” Mike Leyland said.

  Paul Simmons could see that Leyland was in a coffee shop drinking. There was a large glass window behind him with the view of several pedestrians walking past.

  “But he still didn’t say what he was going to use the naval ships for.” Rosie Ire said. “It’s obvious from the things that he has said on his campaign rallies about blockading and destroying Soros that this is the first step down the road to building a new fleet.”

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean that he will use them against us.” Leyland said. “They have problems with pirates as much as we do. The war between Jewel and our planet left a power vacuum when neither of our planets could afford the additional warships to seek and destroy pirates. This just looks like a first step in protecting themselves as he says.”

  “Don’t be naive.” Ire said.

  Simmons raised his hand for silence.

  “We were attacked in the concourse earlier today by several men dressed in uniform.” Simmons said. “They were wearing the same red and yellow insignia that the pirates who attacked us were wearing. That suggests that Jewel is helping the pirates rather than destroying them.”

  “Hammond said that he had recovered a diary from the pirate ship.” Leyland said. “Did he find anything about their base in the diary?”

  “Only the mention that the imperials were watching their base closely and that they had to be careful.”

  “Which might also point to Jewel One space station as being their base.” Ire said.

  They were silent for a moment.

  “What do you want me to do Mr Simmons?” Leyland asked.

  “Well it’s obvious really.” Ire said. “Decline his offer.”

  “We can’t afford to do that.” Simmons said. “It is ironic that I’m in the same position as him. Neither of us want to work with the other. From all the evidence I can see, Sammy is the most conceited and corrupt politician on the planet. His one redeeming quality is his dedication to the cause of wiping us out. Obviously that is not a quality I find endearing, however it is the cause that his base of supporters believe in and they love his dedication.”

  “We can find other support. We can’t let him have those ships.”

  “The appropriations committee will not continue to hold back on those navy ships forever.” Leyland said.

  “But at least we can stop them for a time.” Ire said.

  “This is our best chance to get the asteroid bill passed.” Simmons said. “Do you have everything in place Leyland?”

  “I have one more senator to speak to, I should be able to get a moment with him this afternoon.” Leyland said.

  “Make the deal.” Simmons said.

  *

  “We have agreed to the payment of all the provisions we have ordered as well as the condensers.” Captain Stone said. “This will be on condition that I inspect them first before they are delivered to the concourse.”

  The chandlers had refused to deal with him any more. They still argued that the provisions were spoiled and that he would need to pay additional compensation to them before any release of the provisions or the condensers. Stone had approached the space port authority directly to mediate between the chandlers and himself for a fair solution. A Captain Oscar had offered to help. He was a large energetic man with a no nonsense air that Stone instinctively liked.

  “That sounds a fair compromise.” Capt
ain Oscar said. “Do you have any objections?”

  “The provisions are held in a temperature controlled compartment.” The chandler said. “Obviously we cannot allow anyone access, only robots have access. They are placed there directly after they are stamped for export by customs.”

  “He raises a fair point, Captain Stone?” Oscar said.

  “He needs to remove the provisions to deliver to me anyway.” Stone said. “I can stand at the entrance and key acceptance to every crate of provisioning as it is removed from the storage.”

  “That sounds acceptable to me.” Oscar said.

  The chandler nodded in defeat.

  “What about the condensers?” Stone asked. “Surely they are not kept in a temperature controlled room as well?”

  “I can show you the condensers as well.” The chandler said. “I do not have the ability to deliver them at this time as the haulage trucks are too large to be allowed on the concourse during daylight hours, but I can get them delivered in a few hours when we change to the night cycle.”

  “Is that acceptable to you?” Oscar asked.

  Stone nodded in thanks. This was easier and more enjoyable that he thought. Nothing could go wrong now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I’m feeling very uncomfortable here.” Rivan said. “Shall we try somewhere else?”

  Rivan was delighted to see that Lea was one of the seven Peace Officers to be allowed on the concourse. The other six officers had wanted to find a bar and get drunk so Rivan had offered to help Lea with some shopping. He noticed that she simply drifted from one clothes shop to another in an aimless fashion. The clothes that she did touch, she neither enquired about the price nor checked the sizes.

  The latest shop they entered bought and sold second hand goods. Some of the customers seemed to be exchanging one item for another, for a small fee of course. The shop was full of interesting curiosities. On the same shelf as several delicately wrought china doll heads, were a number of different sized gun holsters. A selection of gardening tools from someone’s hydroponics system sat next to a tub of candles. Who would use candles on a space ship? Rivan wondered.

  Both he and Lea were getting stares from other customers. Some of the stares were curiosity, but some were hostile.

  “Do you think they heard about me with the gauss rifle on the concourse?” Lea asked.

  “I’m not sure we want to find out.” Rivan said. He gestured towards the door. “Would you like to have dinner instead?”

  “You’re taking me to dinner?” Lea said. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They walked slowly along the hub towards the restaurant quarter. There were more tourists in this section and they had to stop to avoid tripping over a crying child.

  “Sometimes I wonder what it is to be a child, about to be shipped out to a new colony or perhaps on their first space cruise.” Lea said.

  “Is that the romantic side of you trying to break through? Dreaming of what could have been.” Rivan asked.

  “This has been my first space cruise, believe it or not.” Lea said. She laughed. “It’s not turned out to be the adventure I hoped it would be. When I was young I dreamed of being a marine in space, conquering new worlds. Now I am a Peace Officer who just happens to be in space because Simmons twisted a politician’s hand to get us assigned to him. What about you, did you always want to be an engineer?”

  “An engineer, me?” Rivan said. “I’m here by accident like you. Rawlins is good to work for, I guess. He praises me, which has never happened before. I guess I’m content.

  “What did you used to be then?” Lea asked.

  “I was a cat burglar.” Rivan said.

  He stopped and turned to face Lea. She seemed more amused than shocked. “I climbed the outside of tall buildings and broke in. I got caught because I trusted the wrong person.”

  “Now you’re part of the crew.”

  “I guess I am, I never thought of that.” Rivan said. “I feel like I’ve been accepted and trusted by everyone. I’m part of a big family.”

  *

  Paul Simmons walked briskly next to Lieutenant Hammond. Four Peace Officers trailed some distance behind them ready to offer some support if there was any trouble. After the last bit of excitement when he was attacked on the concourse, Simmons did not want to take any chances.

  “I hope you do not mind me accompanying you Lieutenant.” Simmons said. “I did not get a chance to explore the hub and, when you said that you were going shopping, I thought this was the perfect opportunity for me.”

  Hammond nodded, his eyes were scanning the crowds of tourists for any potential threats.

  “I would prefer that you stayed on the ship.” Hammond said. “But, as you rightly pointed out, with the ship we think is a pirate ship leaving, the space station is safer now.”

  “I also wanted to thank you for helping to save both my life and Rosie Ire’s life.” Simmons said. “I think the pirates were looking to drag us back to their ship and, if not, shoot us.”

  They turned down the inner spoke towards the hub. Both the floor and the ceiling of the spoke was made of glass. Above them, through the clear windows, they could see the imperial frigate floating in the distance.

  “We certainly got lucky sir.” Hammond said.

  They walked in silence across the hub through throngs of bright plumed tourists. Hammond led them to a small specialist shop. Outside he could see his officers taking up positions.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?” The shopkeeper was small. Hammond could see a growing bald patch on the top of his head.

  “We are looking to outfit our ship with a number of vacc suits.” Hammond said.

  The shopkeeper led them to the back of the store. He disappeared through a small hatch into a back room.

  “How much is this likely to cost?” Simmons asked.

  “If we were looking for Imperial standard vacc suits, we would be talking thirty to forty thousand credits per suit.” Hammond said. “They would be perfect for boarding actions not least because they are bulletproof. The Peace Officer Corp produce a range of vacc suits which protect against small arms fire. They would cost about five to ten thousand credits but we would not be able to live in them the same way that the Imperials can.”

  “I doubt we could buy them here either.” Simmons said in a dry tone of voice.

  “Standard vacc suits to purchase would cost perhaps three or four thousand credits.” Hammond said. “They are however made individually for the person and take about a week to make and fit. I’m looking for a basic model, which is not much more than a plastic bag with a respirator attached. It does not need to be fitted to individuals so most chandlers keep a selection of them handy. They cost about five or six hundred credits.”

  “You want enough to fit all your officers?” Simmons asked.

  “We will not be much use for boarding actions if we’re unlucky enough to fight in a vacuum.” Hammond said. “This should be quite cheap. We could make a profit just by shipping them back to Soros.”

  The shopkeeper returned with several sheets. He keyed them open and offered them to Simmons and Hammond.

  “Here are the wares that we currently hold in stock. As you can see, they are quite reasonably priced and have all been tested to the appropriate standards.”

  Hammond glanced at the board. The basic model was actually selling for just over four hundred credits, even cheaper than he thought.

  “We are looking for the basic model.” Hammond said.

  “At four hundred and ten credits each, they are quite reasonable as you said.” Simmons said. “We are looking to place an order for fifty of these. How much of a discount would you offer for that?”

  “I could probably offer them for four hundred each.” The shopkeeper replied.

  Hammond tuned them out. One of the Peace Officers was waving to attract attention. Hammond stepped back a moment and keyed his comms.

  “There is a disturbance further along th
e hub.” The officer explained. “It does not appear to involve any of our officers or crew, but can I ask you to finish up as soon as possible just in case it spreads.”

  Hammond acknowledged him and broke the connection. He touched Simmons’s arm lightly.