Hardshellz

by Morris Kenyon

  ***

  After Sepharvaim, any planet would look good but, as you know, Batavia VII is one of the most beautiful in the whole of Orion's Arm, especially when sunlight reflects off its oceans. I'd rested during the journey, been treated by the medic-bot, and felt good as new.

  Captain Nanisha put us in orbit and a shuttle shot up from the surface to dock with us. I didn't envy her as she'd be spending weeks being debriefed both by law enforcement as well as Economou's lawyers and security types. Not that I'd escape that rigmarole myself. All in a day's work for an interplanetary recovery agent, I thought.

  The shuttle docked. I was surprised when Sava himself stepped through the airlock, closely followed by Mr Fun himself – his bodyguard, Norin. I wondered what strings he'd pulled but if you're a gazillionaire, I guess you can put yourself first in the queue.

  Sava walked into the first class lounge. I stood politely as he walked past and kissed Julianna full on the lips.

  "I've missed you, I really have," he said as he gazed into her eyes. Possessively, I thought. I turned away and saw Norin staring at me with those cold, dead eyes of his. There was a man who regarded me as little more than an insect.

  Eventually, Sava broke apart from Julianna. "I hear you did well, Vargo. I'm impressed and I thank you for saving my shell. Shall we go and check it out?" Well, that was me told about his priorities.

  We all took an express travelator down to the star-craft's holds. We entered the huge chamber carved out of the asteroid's rocky interior. Summoning a multi-tooled cargo-bot, we stood before the crate.

  "Open it," I ordered the machine.

  Immediately, its arms whirled as it carefully unfastened the crate, dropping the reinforced sides and exposing the interior to view. I was eager to see it again – that object I'd fought so hard and risked everything to save.

  The cargo-bot's arms twirled in their complicated dance as it removed the packing material. There was a dull silence in the hold broken only by the machine's whirring servomotors and the rustling of packaging. Horror coiled around my heart like a snake; a snake poised to sink its fangs deep. Something was wrong – very, very wrong. Where was that massive sept-valve? Had the pirates removed it and put it within another container? My heart sank at the thought of returning to Sepharvaim and doing battle with the pirates once again.

  But it was worse. Far worse than that. At the bottom of the crate was a collection of shards and fragments. A few were about half a metre in diameter but they were rare. Most of the rest ranged from a few centimetres down to dust size. I stepped forwards and sifted them through my fingers. There was no doubt in my mind. This was Sava's Kississ shell, now in a thousand pieces. Like Çrámerr, it hadn't survived the fire-fight. That was sixty-six million Hydrans wasted.

  Standing, I brushed the dust from my fingers and turned around. I was in deep trouble – I felt I was at the bottom of a black hole's gravity well.

  "It's ruined," Sava said. Looking at his face, I saw how he'd become an oligarch. A relentless drive to succeed, single-mindedness and ruthlessness were all reflected. Worse, Norin's hand was within his suit jacket and it didn't take a rocket scientist to work out what he hid there. His cold, dead eyes were focussed on me. They had all the pity of an ice-world locked in perpetual winter. One word – that's all it would take to see me killed.

  Spreading my arms wide, I tried to smile. "Listen...," I started. Desperately, I tried to think of some way of exonerating myself. After all, it wasn't my fault the shell had been destroyed. He wanted me to get it back and I'd done my best. All the same, I knew my excuses would cut no ice with Sava. These guys were only interested in results – not self-justification.

  That said, I didn't fancy getting blasted to atoms before my shredded corpse got thrown out of an airlock to be flash frozen by the vacuum of outer space. My eyes flicked over to Julianna. She stood apart from our little triangle. Her hazel eyes looked alarmed and she was nibbling the side of her fingernail. I wondered if she'd say anything but swiftly realised there would be no help from that quarter. Either hi-man or gynoid, she'd be sticking with Sava. And my pride wouldn't let me shelter behind her skirts.

  Oh, okay – if my life was on the line, I'd hide behind anything. Licking my dry lips, I said, "Listen – there was no more I could do. I tried but there's no guarantee..."

  Sava looked at me. In his hard slab-like face, his eyes scrutinised mine from beneath his heavy brow. He frowned – and it was an uncomfortable sensation being on the receiving end of his inspection. But far more comfortable than what I expected would happen to me in the next few seconds.

  "Totally destroyed. The most beautifully decorated Kississ shell to appear on the market within the last half century. I was going to donate it to the Hermitage Museum in Russia itself but now I can't – do you have any idea how much status I have lost?" he asked. His voice was calm – deceptively so.

  "You can explain – it wasn't your fault," I said.

  "You do not know the Tsar. Excuses are rarely accepted."

  Norin's hand was deep within his jacket. I could see he was looking for the go-ahead to doom me. It was hard to tell from that impassive face but I thought nothing would please him more. My hand slipped down to my belt, reaching for my diamond-blade's hilt. Not that it would be much use – a knife against a pistol – but if I was going down, then I wouldn't go meekly.

  Then Sava's ugly face split in two with the widest grin I'd ever seen. He bellowed with laughter, his guffaws echoing around the hold. He doubled up with laughter, giving himself over entirely to his humour. Leaning up, he clung onto the cargo-bot, which was still hovering there, for support. He slapped his thigh, looked up at me and then hooted with laughter again. I'd heard about the mercurial Russian temperament but I couldn't see any reason for his sudden mirth.

  All the same, it was better than the alternative.

  Norin didn't share in the laughter. He looked at me with those cold ice-blue eyes and his hand never strayed from inside his suit.

  Julianna also wasn't laughing. She looked at Sava, at first with alarm and then relaxed. Maybe she'd seen it before. Her eyes flicked to mine and the corners of her mouth lifted in a brief smile. That sight reassured me more than anything else could have done.

  Eventually, Sava's laughter subsided. He stood up, still holding onto the motionless cargo-bot.

  "You did exactly what I wanted – more – you succeeded beyond what I expected," he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

  Now it was my turn to frown. I wasn't the only one as Julianna looked confused. "What do you mean?" I asked.

  Through his grin, Sava explained. "You don't think I actually wanted that shell, do you? I'd never see it again once it entered the Tsar's collection in the Hermitage Museum."

  "I thought that's what you wanted it for. To donate it to the museum."

  Julianna stepped over and stood by me. "Yes, that's what you told me as well."

  "Originally, yes. That was the idea. But the Tsar's gratitude is short-lived so I insured it for one hundred million Hydrans. Then I got in touch through intermediaries with Knofahgginarebagz who agreed to raid the President Perseus P. Porter."

  "How did you find a bunch of space pirates to do your dirty work?" I asked.

  "As you can imagine, I have lots of business interests. Some of them involve some rather unpleasant people. Norin was very useful in that regard."

  "You put us at risk – we could have got us all killed," Julianna said. She didn't look at all pleased with Sava's revelations. "And Çrámerr did get killed – he didn't deserve that."

  "It's alright – Economou will have him cloned again. He'll soon be back as good as new – even better than new," I told her.

  "I had enough respect for Vargo's abilities to think he'd keep you safe. He is supposed to be the best interplanetary recovery agent in the galaxy. And I think he's lived up to that reputation."

  That was high praise.

  Sava laughed again. "And killing Knofahgginarebagz
was a bonus. He was the only one among the pirates who knew about our link. So you did me a favour. A tax write-off plus one hundred million from the insurance – not that the money matters..."

  Nice to be one of the super-super rich.

  "...But it also means that the ungrateful Tsar won't get this shell for his collection and he can't complain about how it got destroyed. Maybe now he'll detach more warships to help combat the pirate scourge near Khabarovsk."

  So that was what this was all about. Some political machinations within the Russian spheres of influence. I shook my head. What are small-fry like me to big hitters like Fedoseyev Yemelyanovich Saveliy? We are merely pawns in their astral-chess games. Best to do what they tell us and grab the crumbs from their table. Though in my case, they were big crumbs.

  "You know, you're a real hardshell yourself, Mr Fedoseyev," I said with a smile. Despite myself, I held out my hand, swapped data, and we shook.

  THE END.