13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  The group turned and looked at their naive children once more. Wind ruffled through their fur as they silently watched the children play. “Their innocence must be protected,” the elder murmured, noting that the children didn't care what shape a person had, just what their hearts held. Sometimes the better children were like that. If you took the time to teach them. If you took the time then all children could be like that, and the lesson could even change your own heart.

  “Protecting our children here and on other worlds, that's what you're saying?” Bengali asked flicking his torn ears. She nodded, feeling relief as one of them finally grasped the concepts she'd tried to get across to them.

  “Think about it carefully. Think about having enough food for the pack, and sitting in a nice warm place during the worst winter storm as I have these past seven centuries. Of not watching your children suffer when there is no food. Of not having to look in their eyes when they are starving. Of not being forced to choose between the life of a hunter and that of a child or an old one. Of watching them play as they do now, as they should. Think of having medicine when you need it and learning to use tools. Tools you've only heard stories of,” she said, voice rich in charm and wisdom. Her laughing eyes turned on the alpha, challenging him.

  He turned to his mate, she snorted softly. As a female she was always mindful of the welfare of the cubs. Already the priestess Hypatia had started schools, mixed schools for all the young. It allowed the packs to range further away from the dens to hunt. Her soulful eyes looked into his. He shrugged and flicked his ears, knowing in his heart that they would have to change. “We'll think about it,” he said grudgingly nodding to the others.

  “You do that. While you think, I plan on doing what I can, while I still have the time. No more Peter Pan for me. It's past time I fought for my future. Our future,” she murmured, looking up to the stars above.

  The end.

  Hauling Freight

  Time: During Yard dogs and Plague Planet.

  After leaving Antigua, Captain Turtle of the medium freighter Mariah's Mischief decided to avoid double backing to the Agnosta chain into Pyrax and instead headed south following in the admiral's wake.

  No one said so, but rumor was rife that the Captain might have been hoping to catch up with the fabled Irons. They had picked up a lot of interesting stories about the man, and if he was half as much as others made him out to be, he'd be an asset to their ship... even though it seemed he had one of his own. The tales of how he had restored Io 11, Destiny, Kiev 221, Pelican, and other ships have them anxious to catch up.

  They'd made good time, passing through the empty systems of B450a and B449b in six months of transit time before they'd arrived in Centennial orbit. When no one responded to their hails they'd taken note of the damage to the planet's surface and then hastily moved on. It was dismaying that the pirates had ravaged the world.

  With careful rationing they'd headed to the southern jump point and to Gaston. They'd had just enough fuel to make it in Gaston, coasting inward on ballistic for an extra 2 weeks before they'd arrived in orbit.

  On fumes they were desperate for fuel and supplies. It was always a game for the pursers to pull off the impossible, sell of cargo for fuel, parts, food, and other supplies. When you added in the cost of the port fees and the bills the crew racked up it was no wonder George Darling had had a massive heart attack and died at his post.

  Many didn't care for the bean counters of the ship, but they served a vital purpose. Wendy Darling as assistant purser warned the crew to keep their shore leave to a minimum, keep the costs down, and heaven forbid anyone who got into a bar fight with damages. “You break something we may damn well leave you here. Got that?” she growled.

  Knuyuk, her Veraxin boss who had taken over her father's post as well as his own as Cargo master bobbed a nod of grim agreement. “We just got word, Admiral Irons and his ship the Phoenix just left south to Epsilon Triangula.”

  “Darn,” Wendy murmured.

  “Yes. I know many wanted to meet him. I know Mr. Bannings did at any rate,” the Veraxin chittered. “Anyway, I understand the Captain is returning to our original course. We're heading to Pyrax after this stop. So, anyone on the ground who can scare us up some income, paying passengers and the like, please let us know.”

  “Aye sir,” Toodles said. John snorted.

  “John be careful down there,” Wendy said, in older sister mode.

  John rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He took them off, cleaned them with a handkerchief and then put them back on. “We'll be fine. Michael's the one you need to be concerned about. All running around with security,” he said. “Whoever thought giving him a gun must need their head examined,” he said with a sniff. Wendy winced but also sniffed in agreement. Michael would always be their baby brother, even when he was old and gray.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “I do say, are you going to Pyrax?” a rather fat man asked. Rose looked up to the man. He had a gray cap on, white muttonchops framed a bushy white beard, he was portly, with a green sweater on and farmer slacks.

  She smiled. He reminded her of her late grandfather in some ways. It must be the twinkle behind the glasses. “Are you asking me sir?”

  “Yes, I was told someone from the ship in orbit was around here. Since you lovely lady are someone I don't recognize...” he smiled and bowed over his hand slightly.

  She dimpled. She had to admit, she was always a sucker for a charmer. “Yes sir. “Rose Worth, Navigator and helms-woman for the good ship Mariah's Mischief.”

  “Ah!” he said nodding. “And are you going to Pyrax?”

  “Yes,” she drawled slowly, studying him. “Are you interested in passage?” she asked.

  “Why, no, not for me,” he said. “But I do have a consignment destined for Pyrax. If your Captain is willing to haul it.”

  “That's what we do sir, we haul freight,” Rose said with a shrug. “And occasionally people and animals when the price is right.”

  “Yes well, it's quite a lot, about two hundred tons of material, are you certain you can handle it all?” he asked, cocking his head.

  “You know, let me put you in touch with Mr. Knuyuk, our purser and cargo master. He'd be the one to talk about that sort of thing. I just fly the ship,” she replied with a wry smile.

  “A woman after my own heart then, as honest as she is lovely,” Mr. Fenly said, bowing again. Rose couldn't help dimpling a bit and blushing.

  “Um, let me um, just put a call in,” she said, pulling out her phone.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Is this legit?” the Captain asked, looking at the Veraxin. The Veraxin purser Knuyuk had just laid out the order from a Mr. Fenly. It was interesting that it was seconded from Admiral Irons. The terms were more than fair, but they had to take it on a leap of faith. In other words they had to trust a stranger, this admiral.

  If it had been from anyone else the Captain would of dismissed it out of hand right off the bat. He would have left them on the planet and gone on his way. But it was from the admiral, and all the stories they had heard about the man told them he was not only on the level, but also that they'd get ten times what they invested in on the project. Besides, it was right up their alley, just haul freight. Well, freight and passengers.

  “I'd say it is sir. And if it isn't we can always refuse delivery,” the Veraxin replied.

  “We can check around sir. I know a couple of people ground side,” Wendy replied. “John is there now. He's been talking to a blacksmith near the spaceport named Jerry. We can ask him if he knows anything about it.”

  The Captain nodded, thumbs in his belt. “Do that and get back to me. I'm leery about the rest though. I'm not at all happy about hauling passengers without pay.”

  “He's trusting us sir.”

  “He? Oh you mean the passengers?”

  “No sir,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “Irons.”

  “Irons? What about him.”

  “It ma
y seem, oh, just a tiny bit naive to just leave sensitive military cargo laying around sir. And to trust it to a complete unknown? Without his even being here?”

  “We can be trusted! We've never jacked... oh. I see,” the Captain nodded.

  “But it is still naive. Dangerous. But he's doing it anyway.”

  The Captain nodded slowly. “I'd thought as much.”

  Wendy frowned. “I think he's tracking the load. I bet everything he said was true too, that if the load is jacked it will self destruct.”

  The Veraxin purser nodded. “Sensible. He'll know who took it at least. And eventually he'll find out if it was delivered.”

  “Right. He's left enough of an incentive for anyone who carries the load to do it. I mean, who would turn down an overhaul? Every ship needs one. Fully refueled? Parts? Are you kidding me?”

  “True. If it's legit though. We only have his word on it.”

  “Which is where faith and past behavior plays a part. Irons has been a straight shooter from the start. We know about Io 11 and his other adventures, even if it's all second and third hand. His reputation, even that crap in Pyrax,” She made a face and waved an angry hand. “He played it straight. He could have been a hard ass, gotten people killed but he hadn't. He may get the short end sometimes, but he did it anyway.”

  “Honor,” the Captain murmured. Wendy nodded.

  The Veraxin shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “So what about the passengers? What about them?”

  “Same deal sir. He's trusting us to get them to where they have to go, and we have to trust him that we'll get compensated.”

  “Oh. Point I suppose.”

  “Mr. Fenly is offering a discount on food and life support materials sir,” Wendy replied. “That will help.”

  “Interesting. What is Fenly getting out of all this?” Mr. Banning asked.

  “I'm not sure chief. From what I've gathered of the man, he was incredibly impressed with the admiral and his aide to his planet and wanted to return the favor in some small way.”

  “That good?”

  “From the sound of it yes. But also if he can pull this off he has an in with the Navy if they're legit. He's taking a chance. Risky, but with all the stuff about Irons out there...”

  “A risk worth taking I suppose,” the Captain said. “How many passengers again?”

  “Six sir. All want to join the military.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes sir. Apparently admiral Irons put out the word that the Navy is hiring. Both for their own projects, as civilian contractors, or for the Marines.”

  “Interesting,” the Captain said with a nod.

  “It is. Apparently other ships have passed through coming from Pyrax with similar news. So it's not too much of a leap of faith there.”

  “Hmmm...” the Captain mused, rubbing his chin. “Fine, Peter, find them something to do. Keep them busy and out of trouble.”

  “That is if we do go for it. I'd like to see if they offer a bit more before we jump on it,” Knuyuk replied.

  “Don't go all dad and get greedy,” Wendy warned. Her father had been a cut throat businessman. He'd paid for it, all the angst he'd built up over the years had felled him by a massive heart attack a few years ago. It was just as well, if he'd heard about what Admiral Irons was doing, just giving stuff away he would have dropped then and there too.

  “George had the right idea.”

  “Yes but Irons himself isn't here to negotiate. They may not like going out beyond the parameters he set for them.”

  “Ah, true,” the Veraxin chittered.

  “Do they understand it's a 4 month jump to Pyrax for us? We're not exactly a speed demon here. We haul freight.”

  “Aye Captain, I'll let them know,” Rose said.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Peter put a call in to his assistant but Wendy had beaten him to the punch. Rodrick put them in on a three way. “You know, I'm supposed to be enjoying my shore leave. What little I get of it,” John growled.

  “Fine, pass the phone to Jerry and let him talk,” Wendy said tartly.

  “Speaker phone,” John said, smarting.

  “Yes?”

  “Jerry right?”

  “Yes. Jerry Smyth. Who is this?”

  “Sorry, this is John's sister Wendy Darling, assistant purser and the ship's chief engineer Peter Rogers Banning.”

  “Pan the man,” John said softly.

  “Hush,” Wendy growled at his interruption. He muttered a sorry, she ignored it. “We've been approached by this Mr. Fenly and we were looking for references.”

  “What sort of references?” Jerry asked slowly.

  “Well, we want to know if the whole thing is on the level? It's for the admiral, or so Mr. Fenly said.” She'd heard a bit from the Delgado clan but wanted another take on the whole thing.

  Suddenly Jerry snorted. “Ah, I gotcha. And yes, it's all on the level. The admiral told me about it when he helped me.”

  “He helped you?”

  “Yes. He's been a big help here. He, well, the last time he was here on Io 11 he did all sorts of stuff for us. He found an old combine harvester with Miss Pine and fixed it, that helped us a lot come harvest time. He set up trades with the ship, and even got them to clean up some of the rocks in orbit. That's helped a lot.”

  Wendy nodded. This Irons was a man after her own heart. Too bad she was happily married. “Ah.”

  “Last time he was here he was all over the place. He got me into an industrial start up, I'm not sure if I should thank him or strangle him the next time I see him.”

  “Oh?”

  “It's a headache. Right now a big one, but I'm finally making progress. We're starting to move away from cottage industry. See a year ago I was just a county blacksmith. Now I'm running a factory.”

  Wendy nodded. She could tell from the sound of his voice he was out of his element. She could imagine it, going from shoeing animals to overseeing dozens of people. “Right.”

  “I'm a bit in over my head, even with Rosepetal and Mcvine's help.”

  “I can understand that,” Wendy replied with sympathy. Peter nodded.

  “Irons did all kinds of stuff for us too. Medical supplies, radios, satellites, the works. He also cleaned up some of our orbitals with his ship the Phoenix. I wish he could of stayed, but I know a man with itchy feet when I see one.”

  “Ah,” Peter replied with a smile.

  “Besides, we needed a bit of a break, he'd winded us but good,” the former smith replied dryly. That got a snort from Peter and John.

  “So yes, it's on the level. Fenly's a good sort. Nice guy, donates to the schools, dotes on his grand kids. Sharp as a tack when it comes to business matters. Irons set us up with the beginnings of a constitutional government. I'm betting Fenly is a shoe in for the financial cabinet posting if he wants it. If that is. He sounds pretty comfortable wheeling and dealing right now.”

  “I see,” Wendy murmured. She shook herself slightly. “Well, we thank you for your time good sir.”

  “Happy to help if it's for the admiral. He deserved better. Hell, I don't know why he's giving this stuff to Pyrax, they treated him like crap. But he's got a good heart, I can see that.”

  “Yes sir, I believe you,” Wendy replied. “Thank you, have a good day.”

  “You too,” Jerry replied. The phone signal changed to a normal one as John took it.

  “That it?” John asked.

  “For now, thanks John. We'll call you if there is anything else,” Peter said.

  “Yeah, I'll remember to put it on vibrate or lose it or something,” John growled. “Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go see the sights.”

  “Right. Sure thing.” There was a click. Wendy snorted. “Touchy, touchy,” she murmured.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “So... this is on the level?” the Captain asked again at their next meeting. Wendy and Peter both nodded. “It is sir. I'm 100 percent positive it is,” Wendy replied. “I've
talked to Rose who talked to several other people including the town's mayor. Irons is on the level. Hell, they are also offering a discount on fuel and food to do the job. That doesn't come around that often. He really made an impact on them.”

  “I see.” The Captain mused.

  “We're getting ten percent off from Fenly, and the mayor offered another ten percent. That will put us in the black Captain even if we don't get paid.”

  “What are we hauling again?”

  “A couple of hundred tons of material to the Navy.”

  “The Navy. The admiral's Navy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did they say what it was?”

  “No. Classified. He put a lock on it.”

  The Captain snorted. Wendy frowned. “From what I understand from Mr. Fenly there are proscriptions against tampering. Pretty severe ones. If someone opens the packages they melt down.”

  The Veraxin chittered in dismay.

  “So, we'll have to keep our noses short,” Peter replied with a slight smile. He looked expectantly to the Captain. Slowly the others did as well.

  “Well...” the Captain mused. “I suppose. Nothing else lined up?” he asked. The Veraxin shrugged.

  “It is too early to pick up goods from the farms or the growing industry. Right now the industry is filling needs on the planet. They won't have a surplus for some time to come.”

  “Okay.”

  “We could wait...”

  The Captain held up his hand. “No, we'll take a chance.” He sounded amused by that now. “And as you said, we'll keep the cargo if they try to gyp us.”

  Reluctantly they agreed with slow nods around the room.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The last three shuttle loads came up with the admiral's cargo and the passengers. There were 6, 4 humans a Veraxin, and a Gashg. All seemed excited, looking around. “We have two cabins,” Wendy warned, waving a tablet to indicate the direction that she wanted them to go in. “You will have to hot bunk.”