by AM Scott
Captain Ruhger nodded. “Agreed, Scholar. That’s what we plan to do with our shuttles, so we’ll do the same with yours. We plan to bring vulnerable people up first, then food and water, then the final rear guard. If there is any active resistance, we don’t expect you to continue.” He looked over at her, a question on his face. “You don’t have weapons.”
Despite his blunt statement, Saree was pretty sure he was asking. “Very true, Captain. I’ve often thought having some might be a good idea, but it might make me more of a target too.”
“Yes. And it would make people curious, which you probably don’t want.” He shot a look at her. “Besides, to be truly effective, you’d need someone else on board to fire them while you fly. Automating either of those during an escape is a risky proposition.” Captain Ruhger stepped in front of her to lead the way through the maze of vehicles parked haphazardly in front of the bar. There were cargo lifts, bikes, and even a few wagons drawn by various sorts of animals. Fortunately, the animal-drawn vehicles gathered at the far end of the street, so they didn’t have to avoid droppings.
She laughed. “Captain, if I’m using weapons, I’m in a very risky situation already. I’d have nothing to lose.”
He snorted, a bit of laughter in the sound. “I guess that’s true.” Captain Ruhger opened the door to the Haven Bar and Grill, the noise level skyrocketing. He gestured for her to proceed, so she nodded a thank-you and walked in. Some of the tables were pushed together along the back wall, now covered with plates and dishes of food. The room was absolutely jammed with people, grouped in small clumps, children weaving around them in some sort of game. The cheerful chatter and laughter was deafening, and the plethora of scents overwhelming, especially with the sour beer smell of every bar on every world as an underlay.
Sisters Lashtar and Ani stood with shopkeeper Harlan and his wife Brooke, and some of the other town leaders, at the far end of the room. Most of the group tried to force a pleasant expression but they weren’t particularly successful. Lashtar wasn’t even attempting it—her face was downright grim. Saree made her way there, greeting those she’d met as she went.
Captain Ruhger didn’t say anything. He probably hadn’t spoken with most of these people, just the Sisters, the town leaders and business people. Saree stopped in front of the Sisters, Captain Ruhger stepping up next to her. They both made shallow bows with smiled greetings. Well, she smiled; Captain Ruhger just nodded solemnly. Neither one of them attempted to say anything; it was just too noisy. They got grim expressions and nods in return.
Harlan looked around the room, swept up a holo, nodded and swept it away again. Stepping up on a chair, he whistled, loudly. Saree winced at the ear-piercing noise, but the room quieted. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. As you can see, we have some special guests tonight. Sisters Lashtar and Ani, welcome. Captain Ruhger of Lightwave Fold Transport, thank you for bringing supplies and news, and for bringing Scholar of Music Cary Sessan from Centauri University.”
Everyone applauded politely. Harlan grimaced for a second. “Now, I know you are all looking forward to an evening of music and fun, but we’re gonna have a town meeting before that.” Groans resounded. “Yes, I know, nobody wants that, but we’ve got some news to share with all of you, and everyone needs to know.” He looked around the entire room. “Everyone,” he said bleakly, then forced a smile. “But first, we’re gonna eat. You all know the drill: families first, then the singles. Nobody gets seconds until everyone’s got firsts. Everybody clear?” People nodded. Harlan looked inquiringly down at the Sisters. “Sister, would you offer a blessing?”
Sister Lashtar started in surprise, but Sister Ani smiled and stepped up on to the chair Harlan vacated. “Thank you. I’d be very pleased to do so. Sisters, Brothers, we gather here today to celebrate our shared triumphs and sorrows, our joys and grief. Great Mother, bless this food and these people and share your bounty to provide us all strength for the coming days. May the Mother bless us.” She bowed her head, and a muted “May the Mother bless us,” answered from around the room. A few people scowled or whispered with their neighbors.
Harlan yelled, “Let’s eat!”
Excited chatter rose, mostly from the children, and people shuffled into a semi-orderly line. Harlan motioned to the two of them with a jerk of his head, and they filed outside as families moved down the food line.
Harlan spoke in a quiet, but urgent tone. “So, Captain Ruhger, I understand from the Sisters that you’re going to take them off Gliese. Do you have room for more?”
Ruhger nodded grimly at him. “Yes. We have room for four Gliese shuttles and approximately fifty more adults, more if there are a significant number of small children. You already have the messages I drafted requesting humanitarian aid for additional folders. We’ve developed an application—anyone who wants off-world must fill one out—and we’ll check each application and put them in priority order. We will charge a fee, to cover our costs. It will be low.” Ruhger’s lips pressed flat. “Quite frankly, we know most people here can’t pay us. We will not take any Gliesians farther than Secundus—we have other commitments. Attempts to bribe us will result in elimination—those people will be left on-world. We’ll encourage follow-on folders to use the process we put in place, but you know there will be unscrupulous people looking to make credits. Some of those will be slavers and some will try for credits from the rich folks. I’m sure there are some.”
“And what priority system are you using?” a voice said from the back of the group, his suspicion clear.
“We’re drafting it now, but we’re prioritizing families with children, then those with disabilities, the elderly, then everyone else. Shuttles must help with the evacuation and house additional persons, unless the shuttle is already full with families upon arrival. We will check each shuttle before docking. Any shuttle lying about their personnel won’t be allowed to dock. All physically capable adults will be required to assist in the evacuation process before boarding Lightwave.”
“And what about the fat cats you already have on board?” the same voice said with a nasty snarl.
Captain Ruhger snorted derisively. “Nobody on our folder is a fat cat. We have a commitment to our current contract holders, however they have both agreed to help transport people to the folder in exchange for an extra fold, which I believe is more than generous on their part—” he leveled a deeper glower at the man “—and on ours.” He glared fiercely, his voice a menacing growl. “And let me make it very clear. Anyone attempting to subvert our process through force will be met with deadly force. Security of our crew, our folder and our current passengers is paramount.”
The snarling man said nothing else, probably because most of the group turned to glare at him. Saree was too short to see, but the voice sounded like the man who distilled the so-called brandy. She’d met him once and hadn’t been impressed—a short, paunchy man with the florid face of a heavy drinker, he reminded her of a smelly, nasty-tempered burrowing animal sure everyone was out to steal his food.
“It’s the Council’s turn!” a voice called from the door.
Harlan motioned to the Sisters, then her, to go ahead, so they did. They all served themselves—despite the table looking rather like a tornado tore across it, there was still plenty of food—and sat at the table reserved for them at the end of the room. Having the town leadership eat last, but with reserved seating, seemed like a particularly democratic process to Saree. She ended up toward the end of the table, with Captain Ruhger on her right, one of Haven’s school teachers on her left, the bar owners across from her, and the brandy seller next to them.
Intent on making polite conversation, both Captain Ruhger and Saree relayed some amusing anecdotes about their travels, the teacher about his children, and the bar owners about some of their customers. The brandy seller, with the unlikely name of ‘John Smith,’ told several stories of his sexual conquests. Evidently, he thought he was describing himself as a generous and expert lover, but all he r
eally did was convince every woman at the table that they wanted nothing to do with him, even if they could stand to drink his foul brew. He’d plopped two bottles on the table after they were seated, but nobody touched it. Saree stuck with water, as did Captain Ruhger.
After they finished eating, Torin and another child served them dessert, some sort of cake. Saree ate hers slowly, as did the rest of the table, clearly not eager to spoil the mood of the room. As they finished, men and women cleared the remains, moved tables out and away, and set the chairs in rows. The children were herded outside to play.
Picking up one of his bottles, Mr. Smith waved it toward her. “Scholar Cary, join me in a drink?”
She smiled tightly at him. “No, thank you.”
Narrowing his eyes, he said, “What, my brandy isn’t good enough for Centauri University?”
Saree kept her smile with some effort. “Not at all, Mr. Smith. I never drink on-world. I travel for research, not for my own pleasure. I have work to do tonight. But thank you for the offer.”
Glaring at her, he then turned to Captain Ruhger. “Captain?”
“No. I’ll be speaking in a moment.” The Captain obviously had reached the limits of his patience for John Smith.
Waving the bottle at the rest of the table, he glared when everyone declined. Before Smith could make a scene, Harlan stood and whistled again. Saree’s ears were happy to be farther away this time.
Harlan poked at his holo, making selections, nodded sharply, and spoke. “Gentles, thank you for the delicious food and drink. It was wonderful and all of us appreciate it.” He smiled. “Now, I know you are all looking forward to music and fun, but we have business first. I am broadcasting my words on Gliese-net, so please keep it civil, Gentles, and if you are invited to speak, wait for me to send the broadcast to you. Sister Lashtar, please tell us what you’ve discovered.”
Lashtar stepped up next to Harlan, her back to them, her voice grim. “Thank you, Councilman Harlan. Gentles, we have discovered a world-level threat to Cygnus-Gliese. Many of you may not know, but the corporation who owned world-rights to Gliese went bankrupt and their assets were sold off. Gliese is now owned by Galactica Corp.” Gasps and mutters echoed around the room and cheerful faces became grim.
Sister Lashtar waited, letting the exclamations of distress and whispers die down. “Not only that, but Galactica has dropped at least one cohort of Inquisitors here. Again, most of you may not know, but the Inquisitors are a semi-independent arm of Galactica. They specialize in prospecting for valuable minerals, mostly precious stones and transuranic metals. They are dropped on a world, and they steal, loot and enslave to support themselves while they prospect. If they find valuables, they send word to Galactica Mining and are rewarded with a share of the find. They are led by experts, but the majority of the beings are pulled from prisons and labor camps across the universe. They are evil personified and they lie, steal, rape and kill indiscriminately. Do not think you can bargain with these individuals—you will die. Even if you survive the initial encounter, you will die, or wish you were dead, shortly thereafter. If they find anything valuable, Galactica will strip mine the planet, and abandon it once everything’s gone. Usually there’s nothing left except piles of slag, worldwide dust storms and poisoned water. The group we know about it is holed up in the Badlands to the north of our compound. Several family ranches have been attacked, looted and burned and many people are missing. Today, a group of our novices and grazing animals were attacked and taken, the Sisters guarding them killed. One Sister managed to get a warning to us, but when we got there, everyone was dead or gone.”
Lashtar scanned the room, and continued. “Even if we killed all of the Inquisitors, which is unlikely because they are well armed, Galactica will send another group; they’re pretty sure there is something valuable on Gliese. Our only option is to leave and leave quickly. If our world was owned by another corporation, we might get help and assistance, but with Galactica?” She shook her head. “There is no chance. We must evacuate, the sooner, the better. I am deeply sorrowed to bring you this news, for our children as well as yours.”
She surveyed the room again, but rather than calling on the many hands rising, she spoke again. “In case there is any question, the Sisters of Cygnus will leave Gliese. We will be nothing but refugees, like many of you when you arrived. We no longer have the resources we’d gathered before emigrating. We, just like many of you, will be leaving with nothing but the clothes on our backs and the powers of our brains and bodies to bargain with. We are fortunate that our personal connection with Lightwave Fold Transport will get us off-planet, but we will be starting over deeply in debt to them and to whatever world we end up on. Many of us will probably end up indentured or dispersed across the universe for work. I tell you this not to gain sympathy, but to explain that asking us for help is useless.” Sister Lashtar’s martial stance abruptly wilted. “We can’t even help ourselves.” She straightened somewhat. “Still, we will count our blessings from the Mother and persevere in her name.” Turning toward them, she extended an arm. “Captain Ruhger, perhaps you should speak next.”
Captain Ruhger glowered at her, then looked at Harlan, who nodded in agreement. He sighed, pushed up from the table and strode around it, nodding and adjusting his e-torc settings when Sister Lashtar swept the world-net controls over. “Gentles, we are sad to hear this news. Cygnus-Gliese has been a rest and refuge for us in standards past, and we will miss it. We want to make it completely clear, we are not offering armed resistance to the Inquisitors in any way except self-defense. We will defend ourselves with deadly force if necessary, against all threats.” His voice dropped to a menacing growl. “Do not make it necessary; we will not hesitate.” Ruhger regained his previous tone, although it was still grim. “We will take the Sisters of Cygnus with us. We have limited room for additional people and shuttles. An application will be posted on world-net shortly. This application must be filled out completely and honestly and we will check each shuttle and being in person. There will be a charge, although it will be minimal, and you’ll be required to bring provisions as a part of your weight allowance. We will not be able to take everyone and the trip will not be comfortable. Your leadership is requesting additional help. Be cautious about the help you accept, although I will warn you there is little worse than the Inquisitors. Or Galactica.”
“Can’t we just bomb them from orbit? Galactica might send more, but it would give us more time, right?” a voice yelled.
Captain Ruhger and Sister Lashtar both looked at Harlan, who motioned helplessly toward them. Captain Ruhger spoke up. “With what? Gliese doesn’t have a military. You don’t even have a police force. And if you’re thinking Lightwave can do it, you’re wrong. We’re a fold transport company, armed for defense, not offense. We have no idea how many Inquisitors are on-world; we only know the one group is dug into the caves in the Badlands.” He smiled grimly. “Good luck digging or bombing them out.”
Hands went up, and Harlan, rather than transferring the broadcast, walked over to each person. Many of the questions were in the same vein, asking why they couldn’t just get rid of them. Finally, people began asking more relevant questions.
“Since you’re broadcasting this, won’t these guys hear it?”
“Likely they will. Would it be better if they didn’t? Of course. Will they step up attacks against you now? Maybe.” Captain Ruhger shrugged. “But they’d be smarter to wait until everyone leaves, then they can have everything left on-planet without any chance of getting killed or injured. I would encourage those of you who live in the outlying areas to return to your homes in groups, gather what you need, then come back here and mount a defensive perimeter around the town.” Nodding sharply, he walked back around the table, signaling he was done talking.
Harlan said, “You can bunk in the school until you leave the planet. Classes are suspended. We—” he motioned to his fellow town council members “—have already sent a request for humanitarian ass
istance and military assistance to Secundus and Prime, but they don’t have real militaries either. If anyone official comes, I expect it will only be an evacuation.” He shook his head grimly. “And I don’t expect much of that. I think most of the help will make credits off our misery. Nobody’s gonna want to go up against Galactica. When we do get to Secundus, you can bet we’ll end up in a camp, if we’re even allowed on-planet. Update your work experience world-net entries, send messages to off-planet family and friends, gather whatever valuables you have. And pray.”
Captain Ruhger leaned over and spoke in her ear. “Scholar, I’d suggest we leave. This is going to devolve into nasty accusations pretty soon and the best you can hope for is bribery attempts.”
Nodding, she stood and they edged their way toward the back door. Harlan saw them and jerked his chin slightly toward the door, clearly in agreement with their escape. He obviously wanted to escape himself, but he took his responsibilities seriously.
They made it out the door and headed back to the shuttle field in silence.
About halfway there, a voice yelled at them. “Hey, wait a minute.”
Saree wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure the voice was John Smith, the brandy maker, and she grimaced.
Turning back toward the town, Captain Ruhger said in an undertone, “And so it begins.”
Smith jogged up to them, huffing and puffing, but he choked out his words between breaths anyway. “I heard all that sunburn you threw, but you’re just trying to keep people from overrunning you, right? I’ve got credits, more than anybody else on this planet. I’ll pay you triple.”
Captain Ruhger said, “Mr. Smith, I meant every word I said. Put in your application with everyone else.”
Smith glared, his hands on his hips in a belligerent pose. “Oh, come on. You need credits just like everybody. I’ve got them. I’ll give you four times what you charge.”
