“Got our order. T-bone steaks, medium rare, haricot verts in butter, duchess potatoes and porters.”
“What? No filet mignon?” I asked, kidding with a grin. He shrugged and laughed, setting the plates on the table from the tray. Another svelte, shapely looking mech came by and took the tray away.
“The beers are half off because of happy hour. Out here they ain't much into service. You get what's available for the week.”
“I'm impressed. It looks delicious either way.” And my mouth was watering.
“So what kind of stuff can you find on this station?” I said quietly, tucking into my meal. He raised a brow.
“All kinds. This is one of the more upstanding places. There are worse places. I was thinking of picking up a few things before we leave besides the plasma coil. I know some people here. Got a few friends here still.”
“Things such as?”
“Some miniature nuclear detonators. A few moisture pills since we're going to Mars. Maybe a more powerful lasgun. Trackers.”
“Ah! Moisture pills. Great idea. And what are the detonators for?”
“Considering where we're going, you never know what you might need. They'll come in handy.”
“You have the money or the credit line for all that? Doesn't sound cheap.” I said. He snorted.
“I ain't broke if that's what you're thinking, Mr. Astor. Far from it. Also. . .well, I have a few favors I can call in.”
“Mighty big favors by the sound of it.” I inhaled my steak meal and after having done that, I savored my beer, sitting back to relax a bit.
“So how's that blunderbuss pistol been workin' out for ya?” He asked.
“The dragon?” I touched its holster absently. “I love using it. It's a marvelous piece of work. I've been wanting to ask you, where did you get it? Nobody makes weapons that look this good anymore.”
“Through a friend of a friend. It's a very old original. Not a replica.”
“Wouldn't making these kinds of changes cause it to lose value?” He shrugged and popped a slice of steak into his mouth.
“To some folks but not to all. Depends on the market you're selling to. It's a rare piece because it's both old and new. Many people would kill for a weapon like that these days. Your friend Fred mentioned that you had an old rifle transformed to use atomics. I thought you might appreciate the dragon.”
“I do, I do,” I said. I lowered my voice and leaned in. “How many of these kinds of guns to do you have?” He smiled.
“I ain't exactly at collector's status but I have a few. You ain't getting any more from me. They take a lot of practice to really use efficiently but I think they're worth the cost. They ain't cheap, pal. I'll tell ya that.”
“I don't doubt that.” I threw a surreptitious glance over to the female team of smugglers to the left side bar at the far end of the room. They didn't seem to be paying anymore attention to us.
“So, any enemies here you might have run into?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant. He chuckled.
“You mean the women in black over there? Sure. But this is a “no beef” zone. The whole station is. And it's strictly enforced.”
“So what's their problem?” I asked, sliding my eyes over to the left bar and then back to Diamond.
“They're pirates. A few years ago they robbed a small smuggler's vessel of its most prized goods. I was contracted to get those goods back. I was good at my job. I won't say what the goods I stole back were but she and her crew have had it in for me ever since. She's known as Livilla the Black. Also known as Livilla the Killa in certain circles. It wasn't personal but she made it personal. Something she took from that company meant a lot to her, I think. A whole lot. It meant even more to the owner. As far as I was concerned, it was just business.” He sighed and took a sip of beer. “She, of all people should have known that. She taught the concept to me when she robbed me back when I was new and inexperienced.” He lowered his voice. I leaned in to hear better. He went on.
“The guy that owns this place is head of one of the wealthiest rings in the solar system. They're known as The Legion. This place is also the most powerful and best run trading stations out here. You can get everything you need. No one in their right mind who isn't running their own major station or isn't a privateering vessel is going to cross them. Some have tried but if they do, they know what'll happen.”
“What's that?”
“Any number of things. Usually they'll get banned. Might not sound like much but when you're out there and in desperate need of supplies or you come in contact with enemy gangs and you're by yourself that could spell disaster if you've burned a major bridge like this one. Having ties here can mean protection against other gangs. Some of the biggest trading profits come through this station. I know them pretty well and I've never been in their cross hairs. It might be illegal what folks do out here, but there are unspoken rules. This place is well established. They control a large share of the fuel and energy distribution out here in space and on the moon. If you want your ship and your business to reach beyond the orbit of Remus Station, if you don't want to find yourself caught and turned over to a privateering vessel, you follow the rules. If you break the rules, you do so at your own peril. In some cases, people who've crossed them end up ejected out into space like so much trash, their ships and goods confiscated.”
“Wow. Do these guys know about what's happening on-”
“Mars? They know something's going on out there. Most as far as I know haven't been out that far but people do bring back information. There are a few that have been to Mars and do business there. They bring back all kinds of interesting things that folks on Earth never seen or heard before. Individual explorers, prospectors and privateers working for some government or other. There are a couple of privateering ships that play both sides of the fence. Wouldn't trust the bastards but they do bring back pertinent information and these days information is more important than fuel, hard money, credit, gold or any other resource. Most don't go farther than the asteroid belt though. There's not much profit in going farther, yet, unless you're fabulously wealthy already and have the infrastructure and resources in place to go out here and set up an operation.”
“So people out here have heard about these things,” I said thoughtfully. He nodded and finished his beer. The tattooed-faced woman and her friends cast us another round of dark looks.
“I don't like the looks of them, man,” I said, straightening up in my seat. He shrugged.
“Whatever you do, don't show fear. Folks around here feed off of that. They'll eat you for breakfast.” I pushed my plate away and decided to keep them within my peripheral vision, kind of hard to do as the place was beginning to fill up. I wasn't particularly excited about meeting her and her friends in some dark corner out here and I couldn't figure out if Diamond was for real or only pretending not to be nervous. I changed the subject. At least I had my laser dragon at my side and I knew how to use it.
“You have any idea what kinds of contraband that's made it past the belt out there?”
“Well, before I had my own team I carried cargo for a guy who worked as a contractor for a large corporation. Won't name any names. On the side he bought and sold alien technology. A lot of people didn't believe it was alien, just brand new, secret, stolen military technology. It was hot and very desirable stuff. Even more so now. I carried a load of cargo for him out to Gan Ning.”
“Where?” Diamond gave me a level gaze before wolfing down the last bite of his steak and speaking again.
“It's a station beyond Atticus. Near the moon.” Things were clicking into place in my mind.
“The one most people don't know about?” I asked. He snorted.
“Well, the right people know about it. There's a lot of interesting stuff that slips through that station. If you pay the right people the right price to keep quiet.” A thought suddenly occurred to me.
“And no random surprise inspections are ever conducted there?”
&
nbsp; “Like I said, pay the right people the right amount of money and you can move anything through there and you can make it through any inspection. They don't call Gan Ning Smuggler's Paradise for nothin'.”
“Well, well, well. How very interesting. Tell me, if you're not smuggling anymore Diamond how did you still know how to get in here? You seem to still know the pulse of this place.”
“I have one friend left who's still in the business. I talk to him every now and then to keep myself up on any news. I keep in contact with a few others I know in the business. Information is currency. It might be useful to U-net.” At first I was getting suspicious of him again, bringing me here but this turned out to be very helpful indeed. I was lucky to have Diamond Dog as a new ally.
So that was the station with no name. Gan Ning. I never would have found that out by myself. I made a mental note to write this information down once I got back to the Phoenix. A spy could use important information like that. I wondered if Diamond's old smuggling contacts might come in handy one day. I was thinking that they just might.
. . .
We sauntered through the crowded walkways of the outpost, a riot of unfettered and exotic shops of all kinds. Off of the main thoroughfare were narrow inroad walkways full of alcoves, shops, quarters private offices and other businesses, closed to outsiders who didn't know certain passwords, according to Diamond. It reminded me of a cleaner, more organized Syzygy in space. There was a sense of order here and a loose sense of security although many here operated far outside of the law.
I passed by an apothecary shop with a blinking neon sign attached to the outside of the door: Apothecary. Obvious.
“Don't get lost. Easy to do that here,” warned Diamond. We passed by a group of burly guys. I instinctively put my hand on my hip near my lasgun but they paid no attention to us. Diamond was looking for someone specific for his mini-nuclear detonators. Then there was another guy he'd contact to get the plasma coil. He made a call on his comlink ear piece. As we rounded a corner and walked across an amphitheater a laser light show in the guise of a colorful waterfall was being displayed. A song from DJ Krush's timeless, seminal Message At the Deep was playing in the background, Lost Voices, as the lights pulsed in time to the music. I could feel the powerful bass rumbling in my kidneys. Some people were longing around watching, others smoking or talking. Or playing craps or dominoes. Suddenly I saw a flying security mech alight down where a few men and women had gathered for their own craps game.
“Take that to the gaming room or get the hell out of here!” It demanded, powering up and getting ready to shoot. They raised their hands in protest.
“Alright, alright! Don't hulk out!” Said one of them. Another woman said something in Chinese and handed over a pile of money to the mech, who took it and stuck it inside a slot in its chest.
“I don't care what you say!” Snapped the mech to the woman. “Gunner's Run takes twenty percent of every non-gaming room win. You know the rules around here. Wanna bet without paying the twenty percent tax? That's what the gaming tables are for. This is the last time you'll be told.” Other security mechs came on the scene and the small gambling crew started to disappear into the crowd.
I glanced over to where the huge mech was pointing. An open air casino adjacent to the amphitheater lay just beyond. This room was packed with gamblers.
“That's too bad,” I muttered to Diamond.
“They know better. That rule's been in effect for years. You only pay ten percent at the tables. Some folks like to play stupid. They get greedy.”
“Like you, perhaps?” Said a deep, sultry voice behind us. Trouble. I whirled around, my hand on my lasgun. Diamond stopped without turning around immediately, his expression a mixture of wariness and amusement.
“Let me guess. Livilla. You just can't let me go, can you?”
“Hard to do that when you've been robbed. And don't flatter yourself.” Her sultry voice had a sharp edge to it. He turned, grinning wickedly.
“Tell that to Boska the next time you and your girls decide to help yourselves to stuff that don't belong to you.”
“You accusing me of something?”
“Let's not go over all that again. It was just business. You knew that.” She looked him over, and then grinned a wide toothed smile. Her bright, white teeth had been filed down to sharp points. Big trouble! Her team stood fanned around her, appraising us both. It took all my composure to remain calm.
“What are you doing here? I'd thought you'd never show your face around here after The Collector sent you and your crew scurrying into the far corners of the system.”
“What's it to you?”
“Nothing.”
“So why bring it up? We've got things to do, Livilla.” he said, tapping his earpiece. It lit up with light. “See you around,” he said, smiling. This time, however she didn't smile. She bared her frightening looking teeth at him. Good lord! She didn't even so much as glance my way, for which I was grateful.
“You'd better watch your back,” she threatened and then she and her crew stalked off. We both watched them leave.
“That doesn't worry you?” I asked when we rounded the corner down another busy corridor. He sighed.
“A little. Livilla's middle name is treachery. Loves to do her dirty work under layers go-betweens when she's got a grudge. But I've still got a few friends in the business. And even though she's made a name for herself she ain't exactly at the top of the food chain around here.” He sighed again. “At least not yet.”
. . .
We managed to find someone to purchase our plasma fuel coil from. It needed some changes made to fit and work within the fighter ship. We went back to the ships and watched as the crew of worker mechs replaced the coil. Then it was time to look for the detonators. To be honest I was ready to go but Diamond insisted we get the detonators. Immediately I had a niggling feeling something or someone was following us.
“What the hell are you doing here, punk,” said a low, gravelly sounding voice from behind. We both turned around to face the source of the voice and saw three large men standing behind us, the first one's face curled into a nasty scowl. Diamond's face became stony, cold.
“What?” He said. He drew himself up to an aggressive stance.
“I said what are you doing here?” The other man drawled, his eyes flashing. I recognized him from the steakhouse.
“I didn't know you owned this place. Last time I checked, you didn't.”
“I asked you a question, moron.”
“I don't answer to you, moron.” I stood my ground with Diamond, not knowing what to expect. The smuggler's eyes narrowed belying his cunning. His smile was oily and vicious looking.
“I told you before years ago that I didn't want to see you around here again. Now I'm gonna have to do something about it, Diamond.” He sneered.
“Like I said, I don't answer to you. I'm not looking for trouble but if you want some-” everyone had their hands on their lasguns now and people milling around us were backing up toward safer distances to enjoy the shootout about to unfold.
“Hey, jackasses! For the last time, this is a no-battle zone! Get the hell off my station!” The three men sneered at us until the voice clarified.
“Ingram, get out of here now before I have you and those idiots you call crew members ejected out the trash chute!” The sneers were gone and a look of worry spread across his face.
“Huh?” He said, sounding slow.
“You heard me. I'm sick of you. Don't want to see your ugly faces in here anymore. Get out. Now.” Said a man by the fountain. Pushing through the crowd from the fountain was a large phalanx of heavily armored security mechs with small canons mounted on them and heavily armed body guards and in the very middle of them was a dwarf who carried a very large lasgun. He glowered at the three smugglers causing the uproar. He wore a purple three-ringed hat which made him look even more comical but no one was laughing.
“Ready!” He said sharply and the power an
d venom in his voice made me jump. The mechs and guards aimed their nasty looking weapons right at the smugglers powering them up.
“Hey, hey hey! Look we don't mean no trouble!” The first guy put his hands up. “You don't really mean that we can't come back, do you?”
“No, of course not.” The dwarf said sarcastically. “Don't come back here. Ever. Or you'll be dog food,” said the dwarf. “Go on! Get those rotten garbage scows you call ships out of here. Tell your boss, Mr. Collector,” he spat, his voice thick with derision, “that he needs to hire new carriers if he's gonna keep doing business at Gunner's Run or the Paradise!” The dwarf looked around the crowds.
“What the hell are you all looking at?” He snapped. “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.” The other three men backed up and left in a hurry with the phalanx of mechs right on their tails.
“I'm betting Livilla sicced him and his guys on us. Manipulating dimwits to do her bidding is one of her specialties, besides piracy.” Diamond mused. The crowds quickly dispersed back to their own business. The dwarf and the rest of his security team then turned to face us. The dwarf cocked his head to the side. Then he made a tsking sound.
“Always on the wrong end of somebody's weapon. Nothing's changed on that front. And yeah, she did sic them on you. Ingram was never all that bright.”
“You know that?” I asked, probably sounding way more incredulous than I should have. The dwarf gave me a condescending look.
“I always know what's going on here. I run the place.” He turned his attention back to Diamond. “I'll have a little chat with her soon enough. Well! Never thought I'd see you here again, kid. Who is this guy you brought with you?”
“A friend. This is Bob. I've been calling you, Jinx. You don't answer calls anymore?”
“Your code is unlisted. I don't take calls from unlisted codes unless I'm expecting a specific call and I haven't heard from you in years, kid! But come! I'm glad to see you and I got what you're looking for. Sit a spell and let's talk!”
We were ushered into an elevator and scanned by a thin blue beam.
Mission: Attack on Europa Page 3
