by Peter Grant
“Not in a New Orkney Cluster court,” Cousins pointed out gloomily. “They don’t care about what the law or the contract says – only what the First Families want.”
“True. That’s why my contract specifies that any legal dispute will be subject to arbitration or legal action under Neue Helvetica law, in a court on that planet.”
“That was damned crafty of you! And they signed it without havering?”
“They did. It gives us a lot of room for maneuver. I’m hoping we’ll get enough out of Mycenae to buy the warships we’ll need to become a credible space security operation. I’d like us to end up as well-equipped and powerful as the System Patrol Service of a middle-grade planet, if not better.”
A rustle of astonishment ran around the table. “But, sir… you’re talking about tens of billions of kronor to do that,” Cousins pointed out. “Warships aren’t cheap. What’s more, if we’re to secure the Mycenae system against intruders from day one, we don’t have any warships of our own. How the devil are we going to operate without them?”
“I have some ideas about that, but I won’t share them in this gathering. One of our cardinal principles, at least at first, is going to be compartmentalization. Each of you will only know what you need to handle your own areas of expertise and operations. The rest will be kept out of the loop. You all know the old saying: ‘Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead’?” A murmur of agreement ran around the table. “We’ve got to be hyper-vigilant about security. Among her other responsibilities, Lieutenant-Commander Ross will be supervising that aspect of our operations. That includes truth-testing everybody who works for Eufala, including ourselves. There will be no exceptions.”
“Well, sir, if you reckon you know how to get us what we need at such short notice, I won’t quibble. You’ve proved many times before that you know what you’re doing.” Cousins sat back.
“Thank you. Now, let’s get to the point. I need each of you to commit yourselves to work for me, full-time, harder than you’ve ever done before. For the next few years, we’ll all be overloaded, running at full speed just to keep up with everything on our plates. I’ll pay you all good salaries during that time. In due course, after at least five years but not more than ten, you’ll have a choice. You can carry on as a Director of our new security operation, with a guaranteed profit share. If you don’t want that, or if things don’t work out, you’ll have a minimum of five million francs, payable anywhere in the settled galaxy, in any currency you wish. I’ll set that up within the next month, using an escrow account with a lawyer on Neue Helvetica. Even if our operation folds up, or anything happens to me, all of you will get your money at the end of five years, no matter what. Note that five million is a minimum figure. It might be several times higher than that, if all goes well.
“To earn it, you’ll have to do anything and everything I tell you. That will include some things that are against the law in this system, and perhaps in other systems as well. I don’t feel any qualms of conscience about that, because they’ll be directed against the powers that be in the New Orkney Cluster, particularly the First Families. We’ve all been screwed over by them, one way or another, often enough that we need feel no loyalty to them. We’re going to make them help us to get out from under their thumbs, and set ourselves up in a better part of the galaxy.
“Before we go any further, I need you to commit yourselves. If you back out now, the only condition is that you don’t say a word about what we’ve discussed this morning. I believe I can trust all of you to do that. If my trust is misplaced, and one of you talks out of turn, you should understand there’ll be… consequences. Bad ones. That’s just the way it is. If you agree to join me, then from now on, you’re committed. You’ll see this through to the end. There won’t be any early quitting clause. It’ll be root, hog or die. What do you say?”
Sue McBride spoke up at once, a cheerful grin on her face. “Count me in, boss. You’ve proved yourself before. If I can ride your coattails to a fortune, I’m in!”
“You won’t be riding anybody’s coattails. You’ll be working your ass off!” Cochrane assured her.
“I’m in, too,” Henry Martin said quietly. “There are too many hard men moving in to the criminal scene here, bringing too many drugs, too much of the worst of the worst. If you try to stand against them, they’ll kill you. I need a way out. I’ll help you.”
“I’m in.” Commander Cousins’ voice was emphatic. “I’m not part of the First Families. I saw several of their young sprogs, with service records shorter and poorer than mine, and lower performance ratings, promoted over my head, just because of their surnames. That’s why I quit the service. I reckon I’ll do a lot better with you, sir.”
“I think you will.”
One by one, the others signified their assent. The last to speak was Dr. Masters. She hesitated. “Why did you invite me, sir? I’m just a doctor. I don’t have any expertise in operating spaceships or setting up security systems.”
“No, you don’t, but you’re a damn fine doctor and emergency surgeon. I expect we’ll face opposition from time to time – smugglers, pirates, perhaps even others who want to do what we’ll be doing. Someone’s already stolen three of NOE’s satellites, remember, and I’m pretty sure they’ll be back for more. I want us to have a fully-fledged emergency hospital in the system, properly equipped, stocked and staffed. All of us will sleep easier knowing it’s there, particularly those who have families depending on them. I think your role will be essential.” A loud chorus of agreement rumbled around the table.
“All right, sir. I can bring in a locum for my practice within a month. I’ll try to sell it, but that’ll be difficult if I’m not there to supervise it.”
“If necessary, Eufala will buy your practice from you at market rates, then re-sell it through a broker. I don’t mind if we take a small loss on that. I think you’re the best fit for what we need, medically speaking, and I’m willing to pay to get you.”
She smiled. “All right, sir. I’m in.”
“Good! Thank you all very much. As of right now, you’re each on a salary of ten thousand francs per month. It’ll be paid in Neue Helvetica, in accounts you’ll set up with a bank there. I’ll leave you to make your own arrangements as to how much you want to bring here every month or quarter, depending on your local needs.”
There was silence for a moment as everyone converted the amount into kronor. Cochrane knew it was substantially higher than any of them were earning at present. Satisfied smiles dawned on most faces.
He rose and went to the sideboard, taking out a tray with a bottle and nine glasses on it. “I think we deserve a drink. I happen to know most of you enjoy a good port, as I do, so I brought along a bottle to toast our future together.”
They watched as Cochrane uncorked the bottle and carefully filled the nine glasses half-full. The heady smell of the thick, aromatic wine set more than one pair of nostrils twitching with pleasure. He handed the glasses around the table, then took up his own.
“The first Marquess of Montrose, James Graham, back in the seventeenth century in Scotland on Earth, had a favorite toast. It went like this:
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all.
“I think that’s a pretty fair summation of what we’re all going to do over the next few years. We’re going to put it all ‘to the touch’. We’ll either triumph, and make a new future for ourselves, or find ourselves on the trash heap of the galaxy, because the First Families won’t forgive us.” He raised his glass. “To gain or lose it all!”
“To gain or lose it all!” they chorused in response, and drained their glasses.
Cochrane put down his glass. “I’ll meet with each of you individually this afternoon, to outline what I want you to do, and where and how to get started. After that, I expect each of you to take the ball and run with it on your ow
n. Work as hard, as fast and as smart as you can, because each of us will be depending on all the others to bring their part. There’s no room for passengers or deadweight.
“Now, let’s look at the plan in broad outline.”
4
First Steps
ROUSAY
“That doesn’t look like it’s worth thirty kronor, let alone thirty million!”
Sue McBride winced. “Sir, you don’t understand. These robotic prospectors often look this beat-up – on the outside, anyway. They spend their working lives in near-absolute-zero temperatures, a total vacuum, and close to zero gravity, fergawdsakes! They’ve got propulsion units to move around on the surface, anchors, laser drills, core samplers, spectrometers, gravitometers, a pretty advanced assay module, and a bunch of other stuff. Without them, you just couldn’t mine asteroids at all.”
Cochrane shrugged. “If you say so. You know a whole lot more about it than I do. How do you use these things?”
“You start with a remote survey from your mining boat. If an asteroid shows enough signs of being interesting, you deploy one or two of these to it, then go off to look for another. Over the next few weeks, this will hop around the surface, drill holes, analyze the mineral content, and figure out whether the asteroid’s worth your time, based on what you’ve told it you’re looking for. As soon as it’s done, it activates its beacon to tell you to come pick it up. You do that, then look at its results. If they’re good, you mark that asteroid to be hauled off to the refinery ship. With luck and careful selection, you might get something good one asteroid in five, maybe one in ten. Without that… maybe one in a hundred, or, if you’re real unlucky, one in a thousand.”
“I see. Well, at thirty million kronor apiece, we simply don’t have the money to buy our own – at least, not yet.”
“You’re going to have to, real soon, boss. To make an asteroid mission worthwhile, you need up to a hundred of these things, in much better shape than this one, plus three or four prospectors with their own boats – and they’re upwards of two hundred million kronor apiece, fully equipped. Alternatively, you can buy more expensive prospector bots, with artificial intelligence systems to guide them, and their own miniature gravitic drives to move between asteroids under their own power. They’re about twice the price of this one.”
He nodded ruefully. “You didn’t mention the cost of a mother ship, with her crew, plus the prospectors’s salaries and profit share. That, or the more expensive bots, will probably bump everything to a mission cost of about five billion kronor, or one and a half billion Neue Helvetica francs. That’s out of the question for us right now.”
“But, boss… if it’s out of the question, how do you plan to raise the money we need?”
“I think there’s a way. Forgive me if I don’t go into details. I’m going to have to work very carefully to prepare the ground.”
“OK, boss. I trust you.”
Cochrane studied the robot for a moment, then said softly, “You know… those bloody great stones have been swimming in space, in as near to absolute zero temperatures as makes no difference, with no air, no life… nothing at all. Silence and darkness is all they’ve ever known for millennia. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this bipedal race comes along and dumps one of these things on them. If they pass muster, they’re hauled off to be reduced to dust and rubble, then put through a raging inferno to separate the ore from the rock. Their silence is gone forever. For the asteroids around them, that don’t pass muster, it’s back to more millennia of silence. It’s a strange thought.”
Sue said slowly, reflectively, “The stones of silence. That’s almost poetic, boss. I like it.”
“I have these odd moments of whimsy sometimes.” Cochrane heaved a sigh. “How’s your planning for our engineering setup?”
“I’ve got the basic outlines in place. I’ll need to know more about what ships we’ll be using before I can finalize them, and start buying equipment to install in our depot ship. A lot of gear is tailored to the sort of vessels it’ll be used on.”
“Very well. Carry on with that. I may have some good news for you soon.”
NEW WESTRAY
“It ain’t right, dammit! It just ain’t right!” Master Chief Petty Officer Mike Wallace shook his head angrily, and drained his tankard of beer.
Seated at the small table with him, Tom Argyll nodded sympathetically, and gestured to a waitress to bring them another round. He glanced idly around the barroom. It was noisy and smoky, a typical spacer’s dive. Scantily clad waitresses squeezed between tables and chairs, slapping away prying hands, exchanging coarse remarks with the regulars.
“It never has been right, the way they treat us enlisted spacers,” Tom agreed. “Rousay’s System Patrol Service was the same. Damned officers made sure a lot of what we recovered from smugglers never got sent to the Prize Court at all. They siphoned off all the good stuff for themselves, then took their half share out of what was left as well.”
“Bastards! I figured on getting at least twenty thousand out of the last seizure. I waited a year for the Prize Court to rule – and then they gave me only a lousy three thousand! Three!”
Tom waited for the waitress to set down their fresh tankards and load the empties onto her tray, then handed her a twenty-kronor note. “Keep the change.”
Her eyes widened. He’d tipped her as much as the beers had cost. “Thanks, spacer!” She sashayed off, swaying her hips and rear suggestively at him.
“You got money to throw around, Tom.” There was more than a little jealousy in the speaker’s voice. “What’d you do? Rob a bank or somethin’?”
“Let’s just say I’m in a line of business that pays well – real, real well.”
“What is it? Is there room for another spacer? I reckon I’ve had enough of service life, an’ I’d sure like to have somethin’ more than my pension to live on.”
Tom regarded him quizzically. “How far are you prepared to go, Mike?”
The other NCO’s voice was suddenly wary. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re serious about making a lot of money, you might be able to do that, right now.” He reached into his pocket and handed something to Mike under the table. “Careful how you look at that. Don’t flash it about.”
Mike looked down, cautiously opening his hand, and sucked in his breath as he saw the flash of gold. “Wha… what is this?”
“It’s a hundred-mark gold piece from the Bismarck Cluster. It’s worth about… oh, around two thousand kronor.”
“It’s heavy, an’ real pretty,” the older man said enviously. He made to hand it back, but Tom shook his head.
“Keep it, and think about it. If you’re interested, and willing to take a chance, there’s four hundred and ninety-nine more of them – all with your name on them.”
“That’s… that’s a million kronor! Where’d you get your hands on gelt like that?”
“That’s not important right now, and it’s not in my hands – at least, not here. I just work for the people with the moneybags. The thing is, are you interested?”
“Hell, yeah! What have I gotta do to earn it?”
“You’d better be serious about that, Mike.” Tom’s voice was deadly earnest. “Once you’re committed, you’re in – or else. You’ve got to go through with it. If you don’t, you’ll pay dearly – not to me, but to the people I work with. They don’t play games, and they play for keeps.”
“Sounds like they’re a dangerous lot. What sort of trouble might this get me into?”
“You bet they’re dangerous! As for trouble, if you play your cards right, I don’t think you’ll be suspected of anything. I won’t deny there are risks, but the people I’m working for are the most professional I’ve ever seen. If anyone can pull this off, they can.”
“Pull what off?”
“Come on, Mike. You understand security. Until you commit yourself, I’m not saying anything more. I’ve got to cover my own ass, too, buddy.”
“Yeah, I guess you have.” The older man picked up his fresh tankard of beer and half-emptied it in a single swig. “Dammit, if you can make sure I don’t suffer for it, I’m in! I’ve got less than six months left of my final hitch. A Fleet pension ain’t great. A million kronor will make my life a lot more comfortable.”
“Yeah, and it’s tax-free, remember. That makes it worth half as much again. If you don’t declare it, and only turn one or two of those coins at a time into kronor, it’ll give you a very healthy retirement. It’d better not be here on New Westray, though. If you’re seen to have more money than you should, people will ask questions.”
“You got that right! I know a nice resort on the coast, over on New Sanday. It’s a tourist harbor, with a nice beach on one side for the ladies while their menfolk go out after the big fish. A guy I know owns a bar and a seafood restaurant there. They’re nice places – much nicer than this dive. I reckon if I pay him in cash, in gold, I can buy in with him; maybe as a partner in both places, maybe buy the bar and let him run the restaurant. That’ll give me something to do in my retirement. My wife likes it there, too, which is a bonus – and on another planet, it’ll be light years away from awkward questions here.”
“Sounds great to me. If you do that, I’ll come by now and then to sample your beer.”
“The first one will be on the house, every time, buddy! Now, what do I have to do?”
“Drink up. We’re going to take a walk, and have a long talk where no-one can overhear us.”
MARANO
