by C. R. Daems
"As we discussed the other day. This is the Rim. Two thugs got what they deserved. Even better, they were dead when the police arrived. No paperwork, lawyers, courts, or jails. Port security was very appreciative." I had invited them into the Tykhe and discussed the incident over several beers. They left laughing.
Dave just shook his head. "Where are you headed next?"
"Bijapur," I said and awaited his reaction, since I wasn't sure what his business on Plata had been or where he was headed next. He nodded. "Anything illegal in that bag?"
"No. I understand the rules and approve. I'd rather come and go without undo notice." He smiled as he walked past me toward his quarters. I concluded he was good at whatever he did and very dangerous, which was not going to make for a relaxing four days travel to Bijapur.
I spent the next several hours on the Flight Deck, plotting my course to Bijapur and performing a preflight check of all the systems. I lifted on schedule, relieved Dave's business hadn't resulted in any trouble.
CHAPTER THREE
Star System: Bijapur
I spent most of my time on the Flight Deck wanting to minimize exposure to my passenger.
"You’re a very cautious person," Dave said when he caught me in the galley making dinner. We were about a half-day from Bijapur.
"I'm alone and suspect you are a very dangerous person, Mr. Williams," I said with a slight shrug. He snorted a short laugh.
"I could say the same."
"True. But you have nothing to steal, whereas I have a ship and its contents."
"True, but there are those who would pay very well to know my location and more to see me dead."
"You're not so trusting yourself," I said with a grin while alerting Shadi for possible trouble, although it wasn't necessary—Shadi seldom became distracted—but the direction of the conversation made me nervous. He seemed to sense my mood.
"Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you reason for concern. I was being cautious and dancing around the subject. So let me be direct. Like you, I take contracts that aren't legal. There are lots of individuals like us, however most of them can't be trusted and are less dependable when things get messy. They are thugs not professionals. I think you're a professional and I'd like to be able to call on you from time to time and willing to be of help if I can. I know lots of people."
I sat looking at him with conflicting thoughts racing through my head—I had no proof but was certain he was a contract killer and not sure if I wanted to be linked with him or could trust him or how he could help me or…
"I'm a small time…"
"You're careful, professional, and dependable. That's the kind of person I'd prefer to do business."
"And what would this arrangement involve?" I asked, having trouble keeping my paranoia out of my voice.
"Relax, Zen. I'm leaving at Bijapur. Just testing your possible long-term interest in a working relationship."
"All right," I finally said—nothing ventured nothing gained, as the saying went.
"I'll keep my ears open for any hint of snow leopards. Where can I reach you if I need to?" Dave asked.
"Merchant guild on Tanzan. What about you?"
"Mr. Jere Sigler, Clara City, Poona." He smiled. "A token of trust."
To my relief, Dave left the ship an hour after landing.
* * *
I wasn't sure how I was going to find the person with the snow leopard, if he existed. I couldn't take out an ad. So I decided to visit a few expensive nightspots, hoping Shadi's presence would trigger a remark about someone else having one. I sat at the bar in each club, thinking the bartenders would be the most likely to have heard any such talk. Besides, I couldn't just join people at their tables. I visited three nightclubs but didn't hear even a hint of another snow leopard. The next night I visited three clubs I knew had ties to criminal activities. There I asked if anyone had heard of an interest in snow leopards, implying I could maybe get one. Nothing. Bijapur had four major cities, so after a week in Crystal City I moved to Piper City, which was the capital, although smaller and more rural. On the third night I got lucky.
"That's a beautiful cat," said a well-dressed man as he approached, smiling. He looked to be in his early thirties, was clean shaven, and wore an expensive leather jacket and a green silk shirt open at the neck. I guessed he worked in an office. "How old is she?"
"Fourteen," I said, hoping he wasn't just making conversation to hook up with me.
"Minister Jackop has one but smaller and not as heavy," he said while studying Shadi. "At the time I thought it funny the animal wasn't in a cage. They look damn dangerous. They must be tame by nature."
"Don't touch," I said, stopping his hand, which looked about to pet Shadi on the head. "They aren't normally dangerous but you don't want to touch one. Those claws are razor sharp." I bought the man a few drinks and found that he had only been to the minister's house a couple times as a guest at a large party, celebrating some event or other. The leopard had only been restrained by a thin collar and a leash. He had heard that the cat normally ran loose in the minister's house. Much to the stranger's disappointment, I left alone.
The next day I made an appointment with Minister Jackop on the pretext of having heard he had a snow leopard like mine, and that I lived on the only planet to have snow leopards.
The minister's home was an enormous two-story white-plastered structure with a three-meter wall surrounding it. An armed guard stood inside the gate into the courtyard. After surrendering the clips for my Bahr I was allowed in the house and shown to a large reception room with two facing couches, several padded chairs next to small coffee tables, and beautifully woven rugs. Pictures of people in robes with colored sashes decorated the walls.
Jackop entered the room with a young snow leopard, but before he could say anything the leopard raced across the room and landed on Shadi, and I could feel the mind-to-mind connection. Just as quickly, it whirled and landed on me. Jackop stood looking ashen and terrified, shouting "NO, Rosheen," over and over again. Finally, I managed to stand with the cat still draped around my neck.
"Sorry, Minister Jackop. Rosheen is one of my leopard's cubs. She's just excited to see us," I said. Jockop's relief was immediately apparent as he staggered to the couch and collapsed.
"I thought…" he stammered. Eventually, Rosheen joined him on the couch, curling up next to him. "You sold—"
"No, Minister Jackop. Rosheen is one of three cubs born to my snow leopard. Men killed my father and stole Shadi's litter."
"I didn't know," he said, nervously shaking his head. Then his eyes widened as the reality of the statement struck home. "I didn't pay to have…" he began, then turned even paler. "You want Rosheen… I'll pay you to keep her." Panic evident in his frantic plea and the desperate way he reached for Rosheen and pulled her closer. The cat rolled onto her back, wanting a stomach rub. Jockop realized he had no legal claim to her since the cat was stolen property.
"Minister Jackop," I said holding up my hand to stop him from interrupting me. "Rosheen is too old to be returned to the wild. She would most likely starve to death or be killed raiding people's farms. If I thought you were mistreating her I would take her. I don't sell snow leopards. But it's obvious she has a loving home so I'm content to leave her with you. All I ask is everything you know about the people who sold her to you."
His eyes turned down in thought. I knew he must be considering the ramifications of telling me from whom he purchased Rosheen and the many expensive and undoubtedly smuggled artifacts he had sitting in glass cabinets and sitting on furniture.
"Minister Jackop, I'm not interested in the legality of the artifacts you've purchased or those who have acquired them for you. I'm only interested in finding Rosheen's littermates to ensure they are well treated…and in finding the men who killed my father. I think you owe me that."
Jackop gave a small nod while rubbing Rosheen's chest and stomach. "Yes. I don't ask how the items I purchase were acquired. Most times they have change
d hands many times over the years. But I would never pay anyone to kill to obtain an object, no matter how much I would desire it." He pursed his lips as he chose his next words. "There is a dealer in rare artifacts in Fairaday City, Toodyay. He knows my taste and notifies me when he comes across something he thinks may interest me. He wouldn't have told me about the snow leopard as it's not something I would normally be interested. But I was in Toodyay and stopped into his shop on a whim. One thing led to another and he showed me Rosheen. I fell in love with her…"
"Can't say I blame you," I said. "The dealer's name and where I can find him."
"Laurice Andrus. His shop is called Timeless Treasures."
* * *
I stayed in Bijapur, looking for both legal and illegal packages. Maintaining a starship wasn't cheap and I hoped to put enough aside to retire early—or at least to quit smuggling. Many people thought smuggling was immoral, especially drugs. I found the issue somewhat arbitrary and capricious. In many instances a given drug was illegal in one system and legal in another, and even that varied by which group was in power. And certain drugs, like alcohol, were almost universally legal yet it was as addictive and as dangerous as most illegal drugs. To make the matter even more confusing, certain vintages and labels were illegal to sell except on the planet of origin.
Certain drugs were extremely difficult to get past customs as various animals and special devices, nicknamed Sniffers, could detect the vapor leakage through most any packaging material, which negated the best of hiding places. But my father had spent several years and a good deal of money creating containers that completely contained the vapors. That made it a lucrative source of income for me.
* * *
It was midday when I arrived at the Blue Lagoon. I ordered a Blue Ice and sat surveying the area. The bar ran the length of one wall, with a digital display which rotated every half hour with a lagoon from a different system. With each scene the color of the water—different shades of blue—permeated the club. The main part of the club had about forty tables and several reserved booths circling a good-sized dance floor. Mostly the club was for drinking and dancing, but a variety of snacks were available. I noticed Mr. Figueroa sitting in a booth on the other side of the room. I got up when I saw him wave at me to join him.
"Zenaida, good to see you. I was afraid we wouldn't after your father's death," said a grossly overweight man as I approached the reserved area where he sat with three flashy-dressed women and several men who each had a Mfw strapped to his thigh.
"Life goes on, Mr. Figueroa," I said and gave a slight nod of respect. The man was a good client but dangerous.
"So it does. Rudal, get the lady a chair," Figueroa said, and a tall muscular man appeared with a padded armchair. "Sit, Zen. What would you like to drink?"
"A Blue Ice," I said. The drink contained a liqueur that turned the clear soda blue and contained less alcohol than most wines.
"Always cautious…reliable. I like that. Where are you headed?"
"Toodyay…eventually," I said, sensing he had drugs he wanted delivered.
"Dangerous place, the Far Rim." He pursed his lips as in thought. 'Could you deliver some Velvet for me?" he asked so quietly I could barely hear him above the music. I nodded. Velvet was frequently referred to as the Devil's Cloak and was a powerful hallucinogenic. But like marijuana, it was easy to detect and consequently a high-risk drug to smuggle. "Sidon, Hohhot, and Dacca lack color." He smiled. His meaning clear—the drug was in short supply.
"Very dangerous," I said beginning the negotiations. He laughed.
"One half kilo each. Fifty per system."
It took a lot of effort to maintain a bland expression. That was a very generous offer: one hundred fifty thousand credits to deliver one-half kilo of Velvet to each of the three systems.
"Time sensitive?" I asked, but for that many credits I would put off my planned trip to Toodyay if necessary.
"You can stop at Toodyay."
"Thank you, Mr. Figueroa. I could take another kilo and a half for an additional twenty-five thousand credits," I said, thinking my containers could each hold a kilo easily. He laughed.
"Done. That's why I like you, Zen. You aren't greedy. You knew I had more than a kilo and a half. Anyone else would have wanted another fifty each. And I'm not sure I'd trust anyone else with three kilos." At his insistence I ordered a fresh water fish dinner and told him about the incidents at Club Henrik and Plata while I ate. He pounded the table and laughed during the telling.
"That's my girl—beautiful, smart, and dangerous." He was in a good mood when I finally left.
Over the next few days I picked up several consignments going to Toodyay, Sidon, Hohhot, and Dacca, which was perfect as it covered my reason for going to each system.
* * *
I sat in the galley eating Paella, which the automatic chef listed as an old-Earth recipe from Spain, when my Comm unit alerted me to a message. When I pressed accept, a man's face appeared. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was standing at the entrance to the Tykhe, dressed like a Spacer’s dark brown leathers and armed with a Mfw and knife in his calf length boots. His sandy hair covered his ears and he had a week's growth of facial hair. His angular face was not bad looking. Currently he looked apprehensive.
"Yes?"
"My name is Kraig Jaeger. I'd like to talk to you," he said and hesitated, "about passage to Toodyay."
"You're to leave all weapons on the floor inside the door," I said and waited for him to nod. When I accessed the ship’s cameras and saw no one else in the area, I opened the main hatch and extended the ramp. He looked athletic as he strode into the ship and laid a Mfw, laser, and knife on the floor. He then raised his arms and turned three hundred and sixty degrees. What he didn't know was that he was being scanned with infrared equipment. Since the few cool spots didn't appear to be a weapon of any kind, I opened the inner door and met him with Shadi at my side. I pointed down the hallway to the galley
"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Jaeger?" I waved to the dining room table.
"Kraig will do. Whatever is available," he said while looking around the room. I poured him a cup of coffee and held it up to him. "Black is fine."
"You want passage to Toodyay?" I asked as I sat, handing him his cup.
"Actually, I'd like to hire you to tour the Rim systems, Lower and Far," he said after a sip of his coffee. I didn't like where this discussion was going. I couldn't imagine a legal reason to want to tour the Rim and wasn't interested in working for some criminal organization.
"I think you have the wrong person—" I began but stopped when he held up a hand used to manual work.
"Before you reject my offer, let me explain. The Alexander Coalition of Stars has experienced a number of raids on its systems over the past year. These Raiders appear to be working in pairs, suggesting a paramilitary organization. The Alexander Intelligence Agency, AIA, has been tasked with finding them."
"What has that to do with me? They sound like people I'd rather not find," I said, wondering his reason for telling me.
"So why am I telling you?" he said and grinned. "Because I need a cover, you're perfect, and you could benefit from the arrangement. I can't wander the Rim alone asking questions without being stonewalled or killed. You on the other hand can wander the Rim without raising suspicion." He raised his hand just as I was about to protest. "My research indicates your father was a smuggler, although he apparently mended his ways after he took you on board. But judging by his known associates it is commonly agreed, whether true or not, that he continued smuggling. In fact, his death was assumed to have resulted from his illegal activities. And it's also assumed you continue the family business based on the clubs and people you visit and that you continue to operate in the Rim." He paused and took a drink of his coffee, awaiting my comments.
"Since neither my father nor I were ever caught smuggling over the ten years he was alive and the two years I've been on my own, I think tha
t proves my father became an honest merchant and that I am continuing his business."
"That doesn't matter. You're thought to be a smuggler and no one will question anyone accompanying you as crew. That would explain my presence in the Rim and make me less an outsider."
"And if someone finds you're AIA agent they will assume I'm AIA." Not a good thought, given the people I deal with or the people you’re chasing.
"We would operate separately. You do what you do and I'll do what I need to do. I don't care if you're an honest merchant or a smuggler. Besides, the ACS has no jurisdiction in the Rim. I will pay you as if I were a first-class passenger, and if we are successful you will be eligible for the one million credit reward for finding them." He rose and walked into the galley and poured another cup of coffee.
"I may not want to go to the same systems you do or at least in the order you want." I said, looking for some way to get rid of him. I didn't like passengers for all sorts of reasons. And how did I know he was telling the truth? "I'm a bird-in-the-hand type person. Not five in the bush."
"Here is what I'm willing to negotiate. I'll pay you for each jump to a system, even if we have been there before, either of us can terminate the agreement without cause, and the payments will be made in advance of each jump."
"Twenty per jump and your access on the ship will be limited," I said, hoping that would get rid of him. He gave a small whistle.
"That's a lot of credits."
"I'll be smuggling a government official which, if discovered, will ruin my…business if I survive. The Rim isn't fond of the ACS and less of their officials snooping around. And there is no way I can verify your story. If you're lying, I could get caught up in whatever scheme you’re working. So as far as I'm concerned, transporting you will constitute the same risk as smuggling Velvet from one system to another."
"I understand. When do we leave?"
