Migrant Thrive: Thrive Space Colony Adventures Box Set Books 7-9

by Ginger Booth

  The two other ships joined Prosper on the surface an hour ago. He told Cupid explicitly to wait, and he’d send someone over with rebreathers, the air supply of choice on the planet. But of course Zhao had Sanctuary air masks available.

  He fixed a pleasant expression on his face and turned to greet her. “Ms. Zhao. I asked you to remain on Cupid.”

  The old woman looked only a decade younger these days, perhaps 65. The plan to give the envoys Yang-Yangs hit a timing snag. Although the nanites could restore them to an apparent age 25, that would take a month. No one wanted the envoys to negotiate with Cantons while visibly growing younger before their very eyes. Too distracting, since granting Cantons Yang-Yangs wasn’t on their to-do list.

  Zhao scurried to a spot below him, and scoffed. “Completely unnecessary,. I have –”

  “I did not grant you permission to board my ship, Ms. Zhao,” Ben said more pointedly. He softened the statement with a smile. “We are very busy today. As you can see.” Indeed, crew were trotting around the ship in a hurry. Half of them were simply packing to transfer to their proper berthing on Thrive, Prosper being overcrowded, but that was none of Zhao’s business. “Please return to Cupid, and contact me through proper channels. Hugo Silva is your liaison with Spaceways –”

  “I’m right here, young man, and I’m talking to you right now!”

  “True.” Ben pursed his lips without favor. “One minute, and not a second more.” He raised a finger to Wilder, who nodded and approached.

  “I should take over negotiations for our hostages,” Zhao began. “My mother, the great Captain Catherine Zhao of the Concordia, brought these people –”

  “Judge!” Ben called out, selecting a victim at random. “Who was the captain of the Vitality?”

  Judge turned from where he was supervising the new hands at cleaning the big guns. “Uh, beats me, sar.”

  “Thank you, carry on,” Ben said. “Ms. Zhao, I mean no disrespect to your illustrious ancestor. I’m sure she was a brilliant leader. And a killer at discipline.” With over a quarter million desperate refugees as passengers, the Colony Corps crews needed to apply a firm hand. Or waldos, like Sass and Clay. “Clay! You remember the captain of the Vitality.”

  “I do indeed, captain,” Clay agreed with a grimace, from another spot on the catwalk. He turned back to his conversation with Hugo and Abel.

  “My point, Ms. Zhao. Your mother’s reputation is likely much better with the Colony Corps than with the settlers she carried to this planet like so many frozen slabs of beef. The hostages are my people, not yours. We will deal with the local authorities.” When they return my rego calls.

  Zhao gasped, and her jaw dropped in outrage.

  “Wilder, get her off my ship.”

  Ben rubbed his forehead. Should he try this Schauble dude again? No, he and Clay brainstormed their best guess at their trade goods for bribes. He wanted Abel to go over it, then be on the call if he tried again. But he needed Abel to hand Thrive over to Clay before he was free. Ships first. Their ships needed to be ready for action.

  What Ben really wanted was for Schauble to call him.

  He glanced up at Clay and Abel. Give it an hour.

  He checked his comms again, but he knew he still had no response from Schauble. His comms would blast his ear off with an incoming alert. He could spare a few minutes.

  Time to deal with Nico.

  Nico’s closet door opened. He shielded his eyes from the sudden flood of light. Dad Ben stood framed in the doorway, feet apart and arms crossed. The boy gulped.

  “Welcome to Cantons, Mr. Nico.”

  “Hi D– sar. We, um, landed?”

  “Ye-es. Acting Captain Greer said you had information for me.”

  “Uh, yes, sar.” Nico frantically searched his puddled bedding to find that napkin he’d scrawled on. He’d jotted his notes, then numbered them in order. But the pencil was light and ripped the thin paper. He held the napkin up to the light, but then he couldn’t read anything.

  Dad-B flicked on the closet light. The switch was mounted on the bulkhead outside the closet.

  “Thanks! Um, I was – me and Bron – Abel told us to look over Kassidy’s video, and the laptops you sent, to see what we could, um…”

  “I recall the assignment, crewman. What did you learn?”

  “Right. It was too much data, so I gave it to Bloki. He learned lots. He thinks the Cant, um, what are they called?”

  “Locals.”

  “Right. The locals are suffering from extreme environmental stress. Like poisoning. Um, there’s a particular kind that blocks nutrients? So they act kind of autistic. And it gets worse with age. He was just guessing. But the role-playing, and the masks. So there was that.” He scrunched his face up. There was more, but his fun dad acting all severe on him was really off-putting.

  “Correct, I believe,” Ben acknowledged. “Nothing else off the laptops?”

  “Oh, yeah! We got all their surface installations mapped out. Um, the mines? You need to be careful of the mine guns.”

  Ben crooked a lip. “We spotted their mining guns, Mr. Nico.”

  Nico felt like an idiot. Dad-B was Thrive’s original gunner. Of course he saw the guns. The boy gulped. “But the masks, and the guilds, and very regimented society. Bloki thinks it’s to compensate for mental damage, physical and psychological.”

  “Also correct.”

  “You got all that,” Nico said, deflated. “He thinks there was a major epidemic, maybe a generation ago. And he compared the records and satellite surveys. He suggested Hellada, Benelux, and Scandia are the most likely city-states for the Sanks.”

  “True. Or possibly Deutschland,” Ben confirmed with a sigh. “Deutschland is currently holding some of our people hostage. Not to worry. We’ve just begun to negotiate. I’m sure it will work out. Anything else I need to be aware of, Mr. Nico?”

  Dang. Nico had been so sure Bloki figured out something useful, too. “I wanted to explain why I did it.”

  “Now isn’t the time for that,” Ben replied. “Now is the time to check on Thrive’s computers and make sure every last trace of that AI is eradicated. Mr. Bron has been helpful about the physical connections between your…sandbox…and the ship. Are you aware of any other access points Bloki could leverage? That maybe Bron wouldn’t know.”

  Nico shook his head. “Sar, you’re not going to destroy Bloki, are you?”

  “Did he locate the children?”

  “What?”

  “My party and Sass’s were both unable to find children on this planet. It’s unclear the natives know where they are.”

  Nico bit his lip and thought back. He didn’t have access to his notes or Bloki. “There were big facilities in the center of Zentrum? Bloki guessed school or prison.”

  “Good confirmation,” Ben acknowledged. “Any smaller ones, distributed between the city-states? The cities speak different languages. Language is imprinted young. It seems unlikely they’re raised much above age two in Zentrum.”

  Nico nodded. “Something like that in the interior of each city. Bloki said he was astonished at how many prisoners they had, working hard labor in the greenhouses. But it’s hard to see into the greenhouses from orbit.”

  Ben looked sad. “Of course.”

  “Bloki just wants to be a person, Dad!” Nico begged.

  Ben murmured, “Dad is unavailable at this time.” His comms beeped him and he checked the call. “Wilder, security. Gotta go. Thank you, crewman.” He closed the door softly, and turned off Nico’s light.

  “Is Dad furious at me?” Nico knew he sounded like a whiny little kid. “When do I get out of here?”

  “Not yet,” Ben replied. “Don’t worry, Nico.” His boot steps trotted away.

  Nico hadn’t reached item three. Bloki’s future was number eight on his list. And he knew better than to bring it up out of order. Dammit! Where was Dad? Cope, his real dad?

  Ben found Wilder outside on his way back to Prosper. He p
rivately loved the mask rebreathers they wore between ships. Wilder chose the same snarly bat Remi favored. Ben stuck with Pinocchio, himself.

  “Sar, there are pikemen forming just over the rise.” Wilder pointed northeast. “British costumes. No cavalry.”

  Ben snorted. “How perfectly fabulous. Any cannon?”

  “Don’t know their full armaments, sar. They have archers. Possibly swords. I have this idea. I bring Zan and two other crewmen, armed to the gills with blasters. We borrow the electric emus from Cupid, and sally forth.”

  “Sally,” Ben echoed. “On ostriches.” Wilder’s mouth hid behind the bat snarl, but his eyes were laughing.

  “We carry a white flag of truce to parley, sar!”

  “And uniforms?” Ben inquired.

  “We could get Jules and Corky started on them for next time. But the advancing army should reach the crest of the hill in twenty minutes, sar.”

  “Right. Gosh that’s tempting. And highly, um, creative. The emu cavalry is a nice touch.”

  “Yes, sar!”

  “What I’d like you to do instead, sergeant –” Ben broke it to him gently.

  “Aw!”

  “– is draw a line in the sand. Thou shalt not cross!”

  “What sand, sar?”

  Ben sighed. “It’s a figure of speech. Take the shuttle, and burn a line on the ground cover in front of the troops. How many are there, by the way?”

  “Maybe eighty.”

  “Eighty guys with sharpened toothpicks. Right. So you burn a line. Not too close, don’t hurt anybody. Fly high enough to keep the shuttle out of range of their weaponry.”

  “That’s three meters, sar.” He wouldn’t ordinarily fly a shuttle that low.

  “Don’t buzz them on the first pass, Wilder. Do not harm anyone. Do not tease. Quietly approach, burn a nice fat black line, and withdraw. You’re making a statement. Then fly around our periphery. Check if anyone else is trying to be a hero. If so, burn another line. Watch out for the guns from the mine. Got it?”

  “All day?” Wilder whined.

  “Unclear. Check back after a couple circuits.”

  “And if they cross the line?”

  “Burn another line, closer to them. The second time you may buzz them. But stay above their…pikes.”

  “And if they’re still resolved?”

  Ben clicked his comms. “Zan? You have a backup site already picked out? Good. Please remind the crew on all ships that we may relocate on short notice.”

  “Aye, sar.” But Zan offered, “We could make our own pikes.”

  The two were in cahoots. No surprise there. Ben finally lost restraint on his chuckles. “Perhaps tomorrow, Zan. Thank you, gentlemen, for brightening my day.”

  “We try, sar.”

  Wilder accompanied him back to Prosper to mount the shuttle. Along the way, Ben’s alarm finally blared with a response from the Grand Wizard, and he broke into a run. Show time.

  42

  Ben sealed the pressure door to the galley, and took a seat across from Abel, closest to the camera pickup from the big screen. Clay, Eli, Hugo Silva, and Elise Pointreau sat further up the table. Jules wasn’t invited to the meeting. She stood on her side of the galley prep island, not pretending to work.

  “Sure you want to be here, Clay?” Ben asked. “Sass as hostage might be upsetting.”

  Clay coolly arched an eyebrow. “And you?”

  Ben nodded acknowledgment. They both had partners on the line. “Good. What’s this on the screen?”

  Eli Rasmussen, as chief of scientific mission, supplied, “Toxicology reports on your French student, Milo, and the bunnies. Executive summary. It’s amazing anyone on this planet can walk and chew gum. The nutritional deficiencies can mimic autism, psychosis, paranoia, compulsions, severe depression. The toxins even more so. Effects are cumulative. The older they are, the more disabled.”

  “Scrubbers?” Ben asked. Unlike the Yang-Yang nanites, crafted to the recipient’s genome to repair cells to perfect health, the old-style Mahina Actual nanites included ‘scrubbers,’ which simply cleaned specific environmental toxins out of the body.

  “Effective to halt the damage,” Eli allowed. “Not to reverse it. The psychological impacts…I’m not sure what would reverse that. Not me personally. Tikka did our analysis, our Denali physiologist.”

  Ben nodded acknowledgment. Tikka was Eli’s pick of the Denali migrants for their science team, a quiet woman only gradually resigning herself to wearing shirts. Ben recalled the phase from the envoy Aurora’s struggles to fit in on Thrive years ago.

  Eli continued, “And the contamination is inside their domes, assuming the baby bunny never left Hellada. Clean out someone’s system, and they’ll just start building up toxins again.”

  Abel added, “I brought a thousand scrubber doses.”

  “Excellent. Thank you,” Ben acknowledged. “Let’s see what Schauble has to say.” He put the video message from the Prince of Wizards on the screen, paused for him to take in the man and the surroundings. Schauble didn’t play Renaissance dress-up like Reynaud in Paris. His office looked luxurious, but functional. The same could be said of his suit, in a latter 21st century style, jacket in tailored charcoal without lapels, over a lustrous heathered bronze sweater. Iron gray hair showed short and tidy behind full facial laughing mask.

  Ben grimaced at the prospect of reading someone hiding behind a mask. He hit play.

  “Greetings to Thrive Spaceways, and its clients from Sanctuary,” Schauble began. He then reached a hand and detached his mask, setting it on the desktop. “Captain Acosta. I hold your wizard Copeland hostage. He has been most forthcoming.” His eyes narrowed. “I wish to keep him, and all of your wizards. I await your call.” He steepled his fingers and cut the broadcast.

  Ben steepled his fingers likewise, and leaned his lips into them, studying the man’s face, which remained frozen on the display.

  “Where’s Sass? And Kassidy,” Clay asked the obvious.

  Ben nodded. “And this is a bogus opening position. Ready?” He glanced around the table at their nods. He connected his call. Schauble answered immediately.

  “Greetings from Thrive Spaceways,” Ben hailed him. “I wish to see all three hostages, and speak to them, to confirm their well-being.”

  Schauble spread his hands. “Copeland. Join me.”

  Cope stepped into the pickup. “Hey, Ben. I’m OK. Sass and Kassidy were taken away this morning.”

  Ben’s eyes drank in Cope hungrily. His clothes appeared disreputable and weird, but he stood straight and relaxed. The thought of these hostage negotiations going sour, of losing Cope, was unbearable. Ben wished he could reach out and touch him. “He hasn’t hurt you?”

  Cope shook his head slightly. “Nico?”

  Ben grimaced. “Is a boneheaded teenager. Currently under punishment for same.”

  Cope grinned crookedly. “Can’t wait to see him. And you.”

  Schauble cut this off with a raised hand. “Your women are in the hands of the enchanters. That guild is not under my control. But I speak to you on behalf of both.”

  Ben countered, “Do you also represent the legal government of Deutschland? Sorry, I’m unclear on your authority.”

  “I am Grand Wizard to the Kanzler, yes. Ah, Chancellor of Deutschland. But the Wizard and Enchanter Guilds transcend national boundaries. We bear higher authority in certain matters. And we have custody of your people.”

  Ben nodded. “I trust the computers found their way back to Master Reynaud in Paris? And Master Adamos of Hellada is unharmed.”

  Schauble’s eyes narrowed. “That was you.”

  “Yes. We took two parties to ascertain how to open a dialogue on this world. Mine escaped Hellada. You caught Cope’s.”

  Schauble shook his head. “You’re nothing but a young punk. How old are you?”

  “I am thirty-six. Our technologies differ from yours. Some we are willing to share with you. Others are more challenging. Releas
ing my people is a prerequisite.”

  “I think not. We will keep the hostages against your good behavior. The woman – Sass Collier? – made an interesting offer. That you would take three individuals and evaluate their health status. Prove that you can cure them.”

  Ben inclined his head. “We already have one. Eli, I trust Milo is well?”

  Eli nodded his head so-so. “He’s healthy. Getting happier. I gave him Engineer’s Joy.”

  Ben pursed his lips repressively to suggest Eli stop talking. Unlike most of his crew, this worked on Eli. Good man.

  “I’m willing to honor Sass’s promise,” Ben allowed. “But I have to hear her make it. Live. My other hostage, Kassidy Yang, as well.”

  The negotiation was tedious, but eventually produced Sass and Kassidy live on his screen. Ben turned to Clay, and pointed.

  “Sass, you’re alright?” Clay pounced.

  “Fine,” Sass bit out. “Hacked off.” She scowled at someone offscreen.

  “I’m not fine,” Kassidy cut in. “Thanks for asking! That rego bitch had a goon give us pelvic exams!”

  “Not forgiving that anytime soon,” Sass allowed.

  “But you’re alright?” Ben asked uneasily.

  “Alright?” Kassidy demanded. “I’ve been sexually violated!”

  “Both of us,” Sass allowed, rocking her head so-so. “I mean, technically. Sort of.”

  “You suppose!” Kassidy screamed at her. “Ben, how would you like it if someone gave you a rectal exam!”

  Ben bit the side of his finger delicately and narrowed his eyes.

  Their video feed cut out and returned to Schauble. Cope struggled to keep a straight face. Great minds think alike.

  Ben forced his face straight. Cracking a smile wouldn’t do. “Our womenfolk believe they have been violated. This is unacceptable. I demand all three hostages returned to me immediately. We can send a shuttle to pick them up at any location you specify.”

  To which, of course, Schauble refused.

  Inch by inch, deliberations proceeded, with many centrifugal side trips. Schauble wanted all three of Ben’s ships to park next to Deutschland immediately, and the crews to disembark. Ben shared with him the destructive capacity of his mining guns, and promised him that surrendering his ships wasn’t going to happen. And so forth.