Risk Analysis (Draft 04 -- Reading Script)
Page 1
Risk Analysis
Stardrifter Book 03
David Collins-Rivera
in memory of my father
CHARACTERS
CIRCLET STATION
Siddel Ayagotanii Sr. Field Agent, for Meerschaum Assoc., ILLC
Emaross Basta Customer Field Rep. for Meerschaum Assoc., ILLC
Heloise Franka Field Administrator for Meerschaum Assoc., ILLC
Doris Malover Agent for Rapid Placers, Inc.
Annia Wi'iloni Strategic Account Planner for United Humanity, Inc.
***
SHADY LADY
John Barsons Sensor Specialist 1 -- hardware operations/analysis
Ejoq Dosantos Gunner
Christmas "Chris" Giordano Mission Leader
Stinna M'renda Sensor Specialist 2 -- software/analysis
Mavis Singleton Captain/Pilot/Navigator
Dieter Voxel Engineer
***
SPECSIGN
CPM08 Sydney Baily VP In Charge Of Special Assignment 228-1-L
Kwon Ti Stealth Analyst
CPM07 Branden Ursga Admin Coordinator (or AC)
Several engineers and gunners
***
R&D
CPM06 Jacob Hammerhülse Senior Engineer For Integrated Systems
CPM06 Ghazza Mattor Lead Technician and Group Leader for Onboard Defense (later Weaponry) -- Married to Bomand Mattor
CPM08 Indya Parqua Local Project Management Vice-President of Corporate Information Distribution
***
CORPORATE SECURITY SPACE BRANCH (TEAM)
CPS08 Amanda Kesselior Special Investigator, Team Counter-Espionage.
CPS09 Byron Maelbrott Regional Commander, Team Project Security
CPS07 Floyeen Nuellan Officer posted in R&D
CPS03 Neeka Stafross Guard posted in R&D
Several officers and investigators
***
THE VERNIER VIPERS
Tip bin Horro Member of "The Vernier Vipers"
Fanny Botelle Member of "The Vernier Vipers"
Barney Carsons Captain of "The Vernier Vipers" (Maintenance/Cleaning job on station)
Paul Fr'uu Member of the "The Vernier Vipers"
Elaki Kobb Member of "The Vernier Vipers"
Lili Mallorian-Janowski Member of "The Vernier Vipers"
Gussert Norris Member of "The Vernier Vipers"
***
OTHERS
Mark D'beers Cafeteria manager
Laydin Grenweir Waitress/barmaid at Samples pub
Doctor Joenne Cyber-Neural Specialist
Bomand Mattor Professor of Ancient Terran Studies (Middle East, and the African Continent) -- Married to Ghazza Mattor
***
FLEET
Bethany Dusane Admiral Silver Class, Under-Fleet Commander "Zulu Dawn" Detachment
Strom Jammud Senior Agent, Regional Director Spinward Border, Alliance of Independent Nations, Intelligence Branch
||||||||||
I knew what was happening as it was happening.
I expected complete darkness, yet the bubble was filled with light.
The noise was still loud, but nothing like before.
The deck below my feet shifted immediately, and I saw it tipping away -- a warped oval of metal plating, ripped from one universe and hauled into another.
No gravity. No up or down.
As the floor piece canted, it threw me through the air...
Air -- yes! Some had come along for the ride!
I was free-floating in jump space!
||||||||||
one
* * *
The message caught up with me while I was on a quick stopover on Benton, in Dereeva. I was walking over to my current berth's corporate office on-station, in order to sign up for a six-month hitch. Things had been working out well as a member of the support team for the Assistant Engineer aboard Pietr Zivkov, a huge mixed hauler on an established, dedicated run. The AE and I got along, and the others on the team left me alone, so we got along. I'd been offered a half-year position, subjective time, and had decided to go for it.
The note was from a placement agent I worked with over on Circlet, in Juniper System.
SUBJECT: UH Wants To Talk -- Final Meeting, I Promise!!!
I was about to delete it out of hand, because I was well and truly sick of United Humanity, with their back-and-forth, bureaucratic crap. This would mark the third face-to-face with them, on top of two conference calls, and a separate meeting with my lawyer to sign applications, forms, and NDA's. All this, just so we could meet long enough for them to decide if I was the right guy! First they loved me; then they were undecided; then the project was scrapped; then it was on again; then they loved me...
I'd only gone this far into the process because UH was a feather in any spacer's cap -- and a job reference from them would be a door-opener. The money was attractive too -- several times the going rate for a civilian gunner of my experience, and I was near the top of the curve. But their red tape was mind-numbing, and the delays had gotten so ridiculous, I'd had to take a number of short runs to pay the bills. For the six months previous, I'd been doing in-system materials transit, one-jump passenger busing, route courier work, and even a one-off on-station gig, helping with Circlet's big atmo system referb. Anything I had a cert for, in other words.
Except ship defense.
The industry was drying up.
I could say it now -- to myself anyway.
Fleet had been focusing on piracy and inter-system conflicts for the last couple of years, and they had really made space a safer place to travel. That meant civvie gunnery, as a profession, was looking less tenable. Owners and companies alike were beginning to question the financial wisdom of installing and maintaining dedicated fire control stations on their ships, to say nothing of the expertise to run it. A few automated defense products had come out, too, which were selling big. I hated to admit it, but some of those dedicated AI's were pretty good, and if the ship could defend itself, why would anyone need me? That had been said to my face several times within the previous year, and I was beginning think there was some handwriting on the wall I couldn't read.
So I used my Class IV Systems Engineering Certification, and my Alliance Cargo Mate's Badge, and even my 2nd Degree Commercial Passenger Handling License, instead of working in the one field I considered my calling. It kept me in motion, and kept wildly-differing pay rates coming my way. It was work, in other words, and I had no right to complain.
So here was UH again, offering me a shiny gunnery carrot. Really good money; sole responsibility for ship defense; travel and accommodation differentials; and even a (vague) promise of buying out any current contracts, if it all worked out.
It was an echo!
Why should I should trust it? Passing on a solid six months aboard Pietr Zivkov was flat-out risky.
United Humanity, Inc. was a massive negotiation outfit, a go-between for hire with a track record that spanned the stars. Big corporations and government bodies all across settled space used UH for ending union squabbles, military uprisings, student sit-ins, and company takeovers. No job was too small, no cause too obscure, and they were very well known and admired. It was exactly this rep that made me say yes to the first meeting. Doris Malover, my agent of several years by that point, had mentioned a couple of freelance job notices, but she'd stressed this one as a prime opportunity. Now it was just seeming like a lot of talk.
My first impulse aside, I grabbed an espresso at a coffee bar on the far end of the docks, and opened her message as I watched traffic trundle by on B-Dock Avenue. Doris' perky, matronly face and preternatu
rally sculpted hair (black and blond this time), jumped into my field of vision with a head gesture. My ocular display implants (or retinals) were convenient for this sort of thing, with the associated bone conducting speakers implanted in my upper jaw providing a thin version of Doris' bold grumble. She was a real pistol, and I liked her -- but this song and dance routine had gotten wearisome, so I watched and listened with skepticism.
"Hey, Ejoq, it's me. Okay, Emaross Basta stopped by. From Meerschaum? We met him at the second meeting. He says they have the go-ahead from UH at last. I know, I know we've heard that before, but this time it's happening: I looked over the Fourth-List details of the job, and it's pure! I had to sign a confidentiality just for that! They showed me the budget outline, and I saw names. You never see names until it's real, trust me. Get yourself back here! I have until Day 227 to produce a gunner with your certifications, so it's either you or Beth Fl'torra -- and I hate her, so don't make me give her any work! Between you and me? I'm trying to get her to drop us. She's high maintenance and low profits. You, on the other hand...you are my golden boy! We love you, and want you to book this job! Emaross told me they usually recruit from Prill and Associates, but they had a directive come down saying they had start opening up their bids, and spread the love around. Prill does supply Defense Techs, so, if Meerschaum can't get what they need from Rapid Placers, they'll go right back to those guys. Where are you anyway? Get over to Circlet right now! Love and kisses!"
I'm not sure she took a breath the whole time, but that was Doris all over.
So it was really happening this time.
Or not.
Again.
I wasn't sure what to think, so I tried not to.
I spent time watching the news...
Local political squabbles. (Something about a new tariff the retailers are up in arms about.)
A stationer, here on Benton, has won the Interstellar Sweepstakes for this quarter. (Lucky so-and-so!)
Churchspace has unveiled a huge vessel, christened Ataxite, that they carved from a single asteroid. Referred to as a cathedralship, it's beautiful to look at, but ridiculously slow to start and stop; while the cost overruns have thrown their entire Territory into recession. (Idiots!)
A few new comedy vids will be hitting the nets soon. (One or two seem pretty good.)
Oh! Hailey Gardette has another album out. She looks great for her age! And without any gene-sculpting. (Or so her publicists swear.)
As I say, I tried.
As soon as Pietr Zivkov off-shifted its current load, my contract with them was complete. The ship would then be off to Stereon Waypoint, twelve light-years away. Now would be the time to re-up for a long-term position, while the ship's office was handy and the offer was fresh.
On the other hand, Circlet, over in Juniper System, was just one stop from here.
I took a sip of coffee, and made a few quick gestures in the air that the wristcomp strapped to my left arm recognized as a search command. It piped the ship arrival and departure schedule for Stereon directly to my retinals, and I scrolled through tables and announcements superimposed over my vision. Regular passenger jumps were being pushed out every single shift to Juniper (and then, on to Circlet Station, only a few hours inside the primary's gravity shadow). That would make for a fast trip in cold passage.
It would also make me lose a berth I'd been recommended for by an officer. A written endorsement from a lifer like that would easily snag a half-year hitch from the home office...
As one of seven assistants to the Assistant Engineer.
"Doris," I dictated, after a gesture brought up my mail program, "I'll be in your office by late midshift on 224. I'm in!"
* * *
"This is a Priority Account, gentlemen," Heloise Franka explained to us.
Us was a Meerschaum mission supervisor named Siddel Ayagotanii, who was familiar with the bordering star systems in Corporatespace, and me.
It was Heloise's job to make sure we wowed the UH folks: they weren't legally bound to agreements with sub-contracting services until they signed off on all the people involved. In this case, that would be after the first personnel meeting. United Humanity had a mission that needed to be performed, and Meerschaum and Associates, ILLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Swain-Bellows Diversified Holdings, Inc., was a mid-level sub-contractor specializing in space-based security operations.
I would also meet the crew then (or the proposed crew -- UH could ask for changes in the roster), and finally learn the general nature of the cruise. Siddel was, essentially, a field rep, and as a friend, my personal advocate for the job. He'd worked hand-and-hand with Doris, and was the inside man, putting my name forward. He wouldn't be on the actual cruise, but his help in getting the job had been essential.
I was past the NDA's, contracts, and forms by this point. My IDent verification, Cross-Border Pass validity, and professional certifications had all been confirmed. Doris, wishing me the best, was now past her own security clearance, so she was out of the picture. From this point on, it was up to me to secure the position, and help make the cruise happen. The other crew members should have been in this stupid little meeting, too, but I was the only one on-station yet. The other five were scheduled to converge here within the next couple of days, but for the moment, I had to smile and look eager for all of us.
"If Meerschaum delivers what United Humanity wants on this one, we'll be looking at a long-term relationship. UH is required to verify that all their negotiated deals are maintained. They need covert action groups, but they don't need us, specifically. Our Senior veep for Long-term Planning, Danny Grecco, took me aside and strongly emphasized the importance of this contract. Now I'm telling you boys. UH ends up happy. No other outcome is acceptable. We're clear on that?"
I affirmed that indeed I was -- doing my eager, smiley best to seem like this mattered for all the reasons she said it did, and wasn't just the first gunnery gig I'd been able to score in almost a year. Siddel simply nodded like a vaguely menacing spook, which always sold the image of complete competence and comprehension to the management types. I knew him from outside the company, and he was actually nothing like that. The cagey spy crap was a show, and the suits ate it up with a spoon. It was hard to keep a straight face when I looked at him, in fact, so I concentrated on Heloise's tie, which was hideous. To be sure, Siddel did have some experience and training, though maybe not as much as he implied to his bosses. We'd met about a year before at a general DefTech conference over on Raindrop, and hit it off immediately.
He was a Senior Field Agent for the company, and Designated Planner/Handler for this mission. He hadn't been legally free to talk details with me beforehand, but we'd gotten together at various points in the hiring process, and he'd at least been able to toss out some monetary ballparks that had made my wallet stand up and take notice.
"Now, I won't be here for the meeting on 230," Heloise continued. "I have a supercorp conference on The Moors. Yes, that's right: every branch of Swain-Bellows. If I can't report that Meerschaum has UH in the bag, I may as well stay home...and I'm not staying home."
"Oh...they'll like us all right," Siddel spoke with such gravitas and implied consequences for failure that I had to cover a guffaw with a coughing fit.
"Wrong pipe," I croaked, pushing my water glass away, then I muttered something reassuring, and held my face as still as I could manage.
After that, our Meerschaum manager ran down a list of other nonsense and details we were already fully versed in, then jumped to gather up her jacket and bags when her retinals popped up a reminder of her impending departure. She gave us the Tough Face, then shook our hands, wished us luck, and walked out. Siddel and I gave her a count of ten to get fully out of earshot, then burst into laughter.
"Okay," he said, after our mirth, "now that we have the go-ahead from Heloise, I can give you a general overview. This is your last chance to bow out without breaking your contract. If you don't like the job, you aren't obligated to press on. If
you agree to go forward, though, you will be bound to the agreement. I know you know all that, Ejoq, but I had to say it anyway. Clear?"
"Yeah, yeah, Sid! Give."
"All right. This is a treaty verification job. You probably guessed that much, with UH involved."
"I did. The question is which side of which border?"
"Corporatespace. Their side. Covert."
I'd been to Teamspace many times, on commercial runs, but never on a job like this. The tech of the military/security branch over there was uniformly high, and their weapons and training uniformly impressive. A secret mission on that side of the border would require extra care.
"Suspected violation?"
"I haven't been told yet, but it seems likely. The UH reps will be here by the end of the week, and they'll give us the rundown. Keep in mind, whatever this is, it'll be a legal mission -- covert or no."
I grunted in derision.
"For whatever that's worth when weapons go hot."
He nodded in agreement and spread his hands.
"If you get caught, Corporatespace authorities are supposed to just impound the vessel, and deport you all, unharmed, under a special immunity clause. Things can, and often do go wrong in those circumstances, so failure's a poor option. I was field rep for a job that went south over in Noblespace a few years back. They threw the crew in detention and beat them during interrogations. Put the Mission Leader into a coma."
"Well, there's motivation for excellence."