Each container removed from the Blue Jay was a check mark in his mental book, and in many cases, a literal entry in the ship’s ledgers. Unless he’d missed his math, even with the repairs from the pirate attack, the revenue from this trip would allow him to make the last payment on the ten billion dollar note he’d taken out to finance acquiring the Blue Jay a decade ago. It would take time for the funds, encoded in a deep bank cipher, to make their way back to the Martian banking syndicate that had financed him, but under Protectorate Law, once he sent the money, the Blue Jay was completely his.
Now if only people would stop shooting at his ship.
#
“Is there any part of the matrix we can let another Mage inspect?” Kellers asked as Damien crawled under the fresh welding in Rib Four.
Damien’s ‘holiday’ had come to an abrupt end as soon as the two days of offloading were complete and the repair crews started swarming over the ship.
“In theory, anywhere not attached to the seven matrixes I highlighted on the chart,” Damien told him. Those seven were the matrixes that prevented a jump matrix from acting as a general amplifier for all spells instead of just the jump spell.
“In practice,” the young Ship’s Mage shrugged, eyeing the glitter of energy along the runes and checking for errors, “I would want to review all of the runes around the work anyway, so not wanting someone to see what I did to the matrix just adds to the urgency.”
He paused, noting a set of runes where the energy didn’t flow quite right. “Pass me the inlayer?” he asked the engineer.
With a bright white grin, the engineer passed the tool over.
“I’ll sell it to my guys as professional skepticism, I think,” Kellers told him. “I don’t think we want to explain to everyone on the ship just what you did.”
Damien carefully drew the engraving tool along the line his gift showed him. A tiny laser burned a trench into the steel, and a soldering iron attachment filled the trench with silver inlay. He pulled the inlayer away and looked at the runes again. He wasn’t actually sure the runes had been damaged when the repair crew had replaced the conduits, or when they’d originally burnt out from the corona of the pirate laser that had disabled the engines. Either way, it would work now.
“The fact that it’s not supposed to be possible helps with that,” he said dryly, shivering a little at the thought of the entire crew knowing what he’d done to the ship. The Blue Jay’s crew of eighty-plus were good people, but spacers weren’t exactly known for their tact and discretion.
Kellers laughed sharply.
“I thought ships were supposed to blow up if you jump with a damaged matrix,” he continued, his dark face grim for a moment.
“They usually do,” Damien admitted, shivering again, and sliding out from under the conduits. “These runes are good. They’re still working on the bow cap?”
“The engineering firm said they’d have the new RFLAM turret installed by the end of today, but weren’t going to be working on the plating until tomorrow,” the engineer told him. Rapid-Fire-Laser-Anti-Missile turrets were mounted on all merchant ships, their first defense against pirates with missiles.
“Hold on one moment,” Kellers continued as Damien continued to pack up. “What do you mean; ships with a modified matrix usually blow up? How the hell did you know we wouldn’t?”
Damien sighed and finished packing up the tools he used to maintain the ship’s runes.
“To put it as simply as I can,” he said slowly, “the runes are like a circuit diagram – they control a flow of energy, right?”
“I follow so far,” Kellers agreed with a nod, his eyes dark as he held Damien’s gaze.
“Most Mages know the runes we’ve been taught – think of them as standard circuit diagrams,” Damien continued. “Scribes are taught how to combine the runes into new matrices.” He touched the quill on his collar – he’d qualified as a base level Rune Scribe along the way to his Jump Mage certification, mostly because runes came very easily to him.
“We have to know the runes and the language around them, because like an electrician, we can’t see the power that flows through the runes, right?”
“Yeah, but an electrician uses a voltmeter,” Kellers objected.
“Yep,” Damien agreed. “And we don’t have anything like that. So we don’t modify existing matrices or runes, because it’s dangerous. A damaged jump matrix could leave a ship in pieces across an entire light year.”
“So why didn’t that happen to us?” the older man demanded.
Damien sighed. “Because I can see the flow of energy through the runes,” he admitted. “I’ve never met another Mage who can, but it lets me adjust runes with a far better idea of what I’m doing than any other Mage.
“It’s why I could tell that those seven matrices were limiting the matrix to just a jump spell,” he said quietly. “And how I knew that jumping wouldn’t blow us to hell. I could look at the matrix and know it would work.”
There was a long moment of silence, and the engineer shook his head at Damien.
“You may be damned crazy, son,” he told the Mage, “but I’m glad you were aboard!”
#
On the fourth day in Corinthian, David Rice found Damien under the forward radiation cap on his own, putting the final touches on a re-inlaying of the forward rune matrix. This section had survived the pirate attack relatively intact, but had needed to be cut around when the repair crews had replaced the forward turret.
“You realize we’re supposed to be on station meeting Bistro in less than two hours,” the Captain observed, slowing his drift through zero-gravity to come to a rest next to the Mage. He glanced over the rune matrix that the young man was working on. Even to his eyes, it looked different than the old version – most notably, there was a blank space where one of the youth’s ‘seven limiter sub-matrices’ had been.
“Hadn’t been watching the time,” the Ship’s Mage said distractedly, carefully connecting a final set of runes with an odd looping line that Rice was sure meant something quite specific to the Mage. The Captain noticed, with a minor pang of envy, that the Mage was standing on the deck to work, in his own magically generated field of gravity.
“I need to get down to the engineering spaces once I’m done here,” Damien continued. “The repair crew is working on the main hydrogen feeds for Engine One. I’ll need to check for rune damage when they’re done.”
“I note, Damien, that there are no runes on the hydrogen feeds,” Rice observed dryly. “We were told to bring the ship’s officers, which includes the Ship’s Mage.”
“There are runes close enough to the feeds that a Mage need to check they’re intact,” Damien replied. “Those include the runes on the main heat exchanger, which I really don’t want anyone else taking a look at.”
Rice shook his head as his youngest officer. “They’re not going to be any more or less damaged tomorrow,” he told him. “I appreciate both the concern around strangers looking at our runes now, and your dedication to overseeing the repairs.
“That said,” the Captain continued, “I believe I am ordering you to take the evening off. Finish up the runes in this section and then get yourself cleaned up. Clear?”
The youth looked at his boss and sighed.
“Clear, Captain,” he replied.
“We’ll meet in the lobby of the hotel in ninety minutes,” Rice concluded. “It’ll take you fifteen to get there, so you’d better work quickly.”
#
Damien stumbled out of the hotel room shower with about five minutes to spare on Rice’s deadline. The hotel Bistro had put the senior officers up in was located next to the docks to allow easy access to the ship and had floors marked with gravity runes throughout to avoid the dock’s lack of gravity. Maintaining the spells that allowed artificial gravity required weekly renewing by a trained Mage, which explained much of the cost of the rooms.
To Rice and most other ship’s captains and officers, the extra pr
ice was worth it to be close to their ships and still not have to sleep in zero-gravity. Damien agreed completely, as the rune work he’d been doing around the new forward turret had taken longer than expected. If they’d been staying at a hotel any further away, he wouldn’t have been able to be ready in time for the Captain’s deadline.
As it was, he carefully rushed dressing. He slipped into black slacks and the black mock-necked dress shirt common for Mages. Where a non-Mage’s shirt collar would fold down over the tie, Damien locked the warm leather of the rune-inlaid collar that carried his medallion over the half-neck. That gold coin, with its three stars and quill, marked him as a recognized Mage of the Royal Orders and Guilds of the Protectorate of Humanity. Without it, he would feel naked.
In the end, he was two minutes late into the lobby. David, Jenna and Kellers were all waiting, the ship’s two senior officers in quiet conversation with the dark-skinned engineer. He joined them wordlessly, exchanging nods with the other officers.
“Where’s Narveer?” he asked.
“There was a problem with one of the heavy lift shuttles,” Jenna explained. “He didn’t make it back to the hotel until after you did, he’ll be a few more minutes.”
The Captain shook his head with a smile, and was about to say something more when the ship’s First Pilot bustled into the lobby, his turban neatly tied, but his dark blue tie flapping loosely around his neck and the jacket of his charcoal suit wide open over it.
“Stop,” Rice ordered flatly as the Pilot reached them. “Hold still.” The squat Captain swiftly grabbed the loose ends of Singh’s tie and knotted them in a blur of motion. “Better. Are we ready?”
Kellers and the Captain wore the same style of charcoal gray suit as Singh, similar enough that Damien suspected they’d all been acquired at the same time. Jenna wore a plain black suit that looked somewhat newer than the men’s, though still worn.
All four of the ship’s officers, including Damien, nodded their readiness to the Captain.
“Alright,” Rice replied. “Let’s go collect our paycheck.”
The Captain led them out and drifted into a transit pod that would take them to the Spindle. Damien kicked off after him, stepping out of the gravity in the hotel lobby and into the zero-gravity of the docks.
He caught the handle on the side of the pod and swung in, managing not to embarrass himself too badly he thought. The other officers quickly followed, all moving with the practiced ease of professional spacers that Damien had not, quite, picked up yet.
The pod shot away as soon as the five were all aboard, a small acceleration pressing the officers into the back of the cushioned seats.
“How are the repairs proceeding, James?” Rice asked once they were on their way.
“Better than I was figuring,” the engineer shrugged. “Forward repairs are basically done, and the repair crew promised to have the engine conduits fixed up tonight. If they manage that, we’ll have the new rear turret bolted on and wired in by the end of tomorrow.”
“Those turrets are getting expensive to replace,” Jenna observed. “That’s two sets in as many trips!”
“I’d rather replace them than not have them,” Rice told them all grimly. “So we’ll be done the major repairs tomorrow then?” he asked, sounding surprised to Damien’s ears.
“We’ll have dozens of tiny repairs throughout the interior of the ship,” Kellers admitted, “but the major work will be done. I’d like a couple of days to test everything too, but technically we could jump out tomorrow evening.”
“Let’s not,” Damien said dryly. “I’d like a couple of days myself to review the entire rune matrix. With all of the repairs, there may still be issues I’d missed.”
“I don’t expect to be leaving tomorrow,” Rice assured them both. “I do want to be able to tell Bistro how quickly we can depart if he does have a cargo for us.”
The conversation was interrupted by their arrival at the Spindle. Damien felt a bit better about his own original awe at the sight of the interior of the cylinder when he saw Singh and Kellers both stop and stare in shock.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Jenna told them with a chuckle. “The Captain and I came through here back before we commissioned the Blue Jay. It’s a bit of a shock to see for the first time.”
They could only spare a few moments to look at the impressive view down the rotating cylinder with its parks and towns, though, as the cab Bistro had sent was already waiting for them. Rice gestured them forward, and the freighter officers piled in.
The conversation in the human-driven taxi, Damien noted, was far sparser than it had been on the entirely automated transit pod. Like the others, he kept in mind that there were ears listening, and they talked little in the five minute trip before the cab delivered them to a sprawling mansion, tucked away off a side road from one of the main LengthWays and concealed by a forest that looked to have been planted when the Spindle was built.
A uniformed butler met them as they exited the car, gently directing them into the house. Damien almost took him at face value, until Singh bumped him, directing his gaze with a jab of the chin. As the butler opened the door for them, his suit jacket opened enough to reveal a shoulder holster. Secure Bistro might be here on Spindle, but he clearly took no chances.
#
Bistro was waiting for them in the front hall of the mansion accompanied by another man that David didn’t recognize. The stranger was younger than Bistro, tall and slim with dark red hair and piercing green eyes. Dressed in a demure dark gray suit, he fit into the elegant furnishings of the mansion like he belonged.
“Captain Rice, welcome to my home away from home,” Bistro greeted him, offering his hand for a firm handshake. “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Carmichael, a business associate of mine. I am only going to be on Prime for tonight, so I decided to combine two dinners into one. This isn’t an issue, I hope?”
Rice shook his head – he was hardly going to object to whoever the billionaire magnate chose to include in the evenings events.
“Mr. Carmichael,” he greeted the stranger with a nod and turned to present his crew:
“My first officer, Jenna Campbell,” he introduced Jenna. “Then this is my Chief Engineer, James Kellers, my First Pilot Narveer Singh, and my Ship’s Mage, Damien Montgomery.”
“I have heard of some of your crew before,” Carmichael murmured, shaking hands with each officer in turn. “But Mr. Montgomery is new to me. I believe you had a McLaughlin aboard before?”
“Yes,” Rice said shortly. “He is sadly no longer with us.”
“Of course, my apologies,” the stranger murmured. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”
Bistro shook each officer’s hand in turn as well and gestured everyone towards a door off of the wood-paneled hall.
“The dining room is through here,” he announced. “I believe the cook should have dinner just about ready, if everyone can take a seat.”
David waved his crew ahead of him, and eventually ended up seated at the right hand of the head of the table, directly across from Carmichael and next to Bistro. Jenna sat to his right, with Damien opposite her next to Carmichael, the youth looking somewhat out of sorts, though David suspected he had more experience with high society dining than the other three officers put together.
As the food arrived, Bistro slid a small black chip across the table to David, which the Captain took and pocketed with a nod.
“Payment for a successful delivery, Captain Rice – and I hope, only the beginning of our commercial relationship,” Bistro told him quietly. “I have managed to confirm some details around that commission we spoke of, but nothing is set in stone yet. You still have some repairs to complete, you said?”
“It will be at least two or three days before we’re even ready to begin loading cargo, let alone planning on shipping out,” David agreed. “If you’re thinking you may have a cargo for me, my ears will be open for a few days more.” More than that could put his ability to fi
nd a cargo in Corinthian at risk, something he was unwilling to do.
“What is the cargo we’re speaking of?” he asked. “I’ve learned in the past that not asking too many questions can get me in more trouble than I’m prepared to accept.”
From the way Carmichael nearly choked on the extremely good clam chowder the cook had served, the other man knew something of the events David was referring to. That was… unexpected.
“It will be a load of machine parts and antimatter,” Bistro said calmly. “The only -- complications -- are that it’s shipping to Legatus, one of the UnArcana worlds, so there is always more paperwork.”
David nodded. Of the just over a hundred known colonies, fourteen had officially banned the practice of Magic on their planetary surfaces, a decision that put them in sharp dispute with the over-arching government of the Mage-King of Mars. They sent their representatives to the Council at Mars like every other world, and jump ships still carried Mages to the worlds and Mage-commanded Martian warships guarded their worlds… but no Mage was allowed to set foot on the surface except on the King’s business. Collectively, those fourteen systems were known as the UnArcana worlds, where Mages feared to tread.
“That makes sense,” he agreed. “As I said, it will be a few days before we can begin to load cargo, so I can wait and see if your commission comes through.”
“It will,” Carmichael observed quietly, laying his spoon down on his empty bowl and leaning back. “The right requests have all been filed; it’s just making its way to the desk of the man who signs off on these things. Antimatter shipments are especially sensitive, as it’s so damned hard to make the stuff without magic.”
David nodded silently as the soup plate was removed, and a plate of chicken and vegetables was placed in front of him. From the looks of it, the chicken breast had come from an actual bird, rather than a vat as most ‘meat’ aboard a space station or starship did. Neither Bistro nor Carmichael, however, acted as if this was unusual.
Starship's Mage: Omnibus: (Starship's Mage Book 1) Page 9
