In Ashes Born (A Seeker's Tale From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1)

by Nathan Lowell

  “Given the difficulties they’ve had in the past, it’s a bit odd.”

  “Don’t you think that other bidders might be trying to get on board, too?”

  That thought stopped me.

  “Why else would they have told us the ship was in a docking orbit? Why else would it be sitting in a darkened dock?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It just feels like cheating.”

  “All right. I’ll grant you we’re working to gain extra information. Are we cheating or are we doing due diligence? Don’t we owe it to our stockholders to do whatever we can to make sure we know what it is we’re spending their credits on?”

  I frowned at him. “Seriously?”

  “Okay,” he said with a sheepish shrug. “That was a bit far. But it is due diligence. Who knows who else has snuck on board using this same technique?”

  “Maybe nobody,” I said. “I still don’t know why you’re so bent on seeing what’s there.”

  He glanced at the chrono. “I’ll tell you when I know,” he said. “We need to get over there and get this going.”

  Pip hiked along quickly once we’d cleared the lock. He walked right by eight-two and stopped in front of eight-four.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked. “The Chernyakova is one back.”

  “Diversion,” he said, and rang the buzzer.

  The lock opened and a different rating came out. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, we just came off duty and thought you should know that some delivery guy left a bunch of food at dock eight-two for Arnold Martel.”

  “Arnie?”

  “He’s one of yours isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You might wanna let him know. It looked like a lot.”

  Pip nudged me with a hand. “Come on. I need a beer after that shift.” He walked away, leaving me to follow.

  The rating scooted back into the ship and Pip dragged me over to the side of the docks. “Wait for it.”

  Sure enough, Spacer First Class Arnold Martel came out of the ship, marched over to dock eight-two, and rang the bell. The conversation didn’t last long before the beefy guard got into Martel’s face and started saying things that made Martel shrink away and step briskly back to his ship.

  “That’s our cue,” Pip said and headed for the caretaker standing in the lock and looking away from us.

  The guard stood there watching until the lock closed on dock eight-four, by which time we stood almost next to him. He did a double take when he saw the patches on our suits.

  “Long shift?” Pip asked.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Pip looked to me and then back at the beef. “Uh? Relief?”

  The big guy’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to Smitty and Buck?”

  “How the hell should we know?” Pip asked matching him scowl for scowl. “We were just told to show up at ten o’clock and here we are. You want relief or not?”

  “Ten o’clock?” The other guard came out of the ship.

  “Yeah. Twenty-four hundred. That’s ten o’clock? Right?” He gave me a shrug and a roll of his eyes.

  “New guys?” the other guard asked.

  “Yeah. Just came up from planet-side,” Pip said. “Got tired of working private security in the dirt.”

  The two guards shared a look.

  “What’s the problem?” Pip asked. “You guys want relief or not?”

  “Sure,” the first guard said and gestured to his buddy. “Sign the log over to them and let’s call it a day.”

  The second guard smirked and thumbed the page before handing it off to Pip.

  “Anything we should know about this job?”

  The first guard shook his head. “Fire watch detail. Walk the length of the ship once a stan and tag the stations. Same ole, same ole.”

  The second guard squinted at me. “I seen your face somewhere?”

  “Not that I know of,” I said. “Unless you hang out down at The Corner?”

  He shook his head and looked to Pip. “It’s all yours.”

  He and his buddy walked down the dock toward the lift. “And just for future reference, twenty-four hundred is midnight. Moron,” he said.

  “What?” Pip shouted.

  The two guards laughed and kept going. “Enjoy your shift,” the first one said.

  Pip led me into the ship and slapped the lock key. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  I looked around the lock. I remembered the scars on the deck and the peculiar grunge on the bulkheads. The smell brought back memories I really didn’t want to recover.

  “Now, let’s see what they’re hiding,” Pip said and walked down the passageway into the ship. He stopped at the first turn and looked back at me. “You coming?”

  I swallowed hard and followed him.

  He made straight for the bridge but stopped at the data closet under the ladder and swung the doors open. He pulled a hand light out of his pocket and shined it around inside. “Well, the grime looks undisturbed,” he said. “That’s good.”

  “What are you looking for?” I asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

  He closed the closet doors and pushed the light back into his pocket. “Let’s see if it’s here,” he said and jogged up the ladder to the bridge.

  With the orbital right outside the armorglass, the bridge was plenty bright even without the docking light. He crossed to the astrogation station and pointed to the seat. “Do me a favor and bring up the chart catalog?”

  I sat and fired up the terminal. It took a couple of ticks for it to warm up. “I didn’t know you were on a Barbell,” I said.

  “First time.”

  “You knew where the bridge was.”

  He chuckled. “Think of every ship you were ever on. Where was the bridge?”

  “Yeah, but how’d you know where to go?”

  “Seriously? It’s always the first ladder up from the bow. Always.”

  The screen finally warmed up and I looked up at Pip. “All right. What do you want to look at?”

  “Chart catalog?”

  “I can show you the list of astrometric data, but there’s nothing like a chart catalog. What do you want to see?”

  Pip steepled his hands in front of his face and blew between his palms. “All right. I want to plot a path through the Deep Dark from here to Greenfields. How would you do that?”

  I pulled up the route planner. “These circles are how far we can jump. I’d just link a line of circles from here to Greenfields.”

  I could see Pip’s frown in the darkness. “Do it.”

  I shrugged and started laying jump rings down the length of the system.

  “What’s that?” He pointed at a flashing icon.

  “Looks about where Odin’s Outpost is. It’s halfway between here and Welliver, but it’s in the wrong direction.”

  “Anything look odd on this display?”

  I shook my head. “Standard astrogation unit. I’ve used one like it for stanyers.”

  “Can you bring up Dunsany Roads?”

  “Sure.” I did, and looked up at him.

  “What’s that? And that?” he asked, pointing to two more of the little flashing icons.

  “I don’t know. Looks like the same icon as Odin’s Outpost.”

  Pip stood silent for so long I looked up at him again. “Perfect,” he said. “We’re done here. You can shut it down.”

  I killed power to the console and stood up to find Pip looking around the bridge. He pointed to consoles in turn. “Navigation, Engineering, Astrogation, Systems and Communications. What’s that one?”

  “Probably spare. Most of the larger ships have at least one spare console in case one fails while under way. The Lois had two, if I remember.”

  He stared at it for a moment and then grunted. “Let’s see if they left any of that food.”

  I followed Pip down the ladder and led him to the galley. All we found were empty wrappers and a rancid pot of coffee.
<
br />   “I’m not drinking this,” I said.

  The tablet he’d gotten from the guard bipped in his hand. “Just as well. Time for rounds.”

  It wasn’t too much different from the old VSI watch on the Lois. Follow the path. Trigger each test and find the next. Except these were simple manual toggles to prove we’d been there. The entire set took about a quarter of a stan and left us back at the lock.

  “It didn’t look too bad,” Pip said. “A few panels missing. Some of the rubber deck covering is worn and needs replacing.”

  “No mattresses in the berthing areas. No stores in the lockers.”

  “I wouldn’t trust any stores left here this long anyway,” Pip said. “We’d have to completely refit for crew.”

  “Next to no spares. Tanks probably need purging.”

  “We need an engineer,” Pip said.

  “Agreed.” I checked the chrono. “Well, we’ve got a stan before the relief shows up. What do you want to do?”

  Pip shrugged. “I’ve seen what I came to see.”

  I spun the watch stander’s seat around and patted it. “Good. Then have a seat. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Explaining?”

  “You said you’d tell me what you were looking for when you found it. Clearly you found it. Give.”

  He started to answer but the call buzzer sounded, cutting off anything he might have been about to say. I checked the port and felt the breath go out of me.

  “Who is it?” Pip asked.

  “It’s been a while, but it looks like Field Agent James Waters and a couple of his friends. Along with some suits and the two guys we relieved of watch.”

  “That’s embarrassing,” Pip said.

  Waters pressed the call button again, giving it a little extra poke at the end.

  I slapped the lock key and watched it lever up. Before it got all the way up, Pip elbowed me aside.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Can we help you?”

  “That’s them,” the first guard said.

  One of the suits gave him a nasty look and he stepped back.

  Agent Waters leaned in to look at the name stenciled on Pip’s chest. “Mr. Maxwell and ...” he looked at me. He looked me straight in the eye and winked. “And Mr. Benjamin.” He pointed to the suits. “These two representatives from Minotaur Monitoring tell me you are not, in fact, in their employ. Any comment?”

  “Yes,” Pip said. “Several.”

  One of the suits pushed forward and thrust his chin out. “I demand you arrest these two imposters.”

  “On what grounds?” Pip asked.

  “Impersonating an officer, trespass, tampering with evidence. I can probably think of a couple more.”

  “Unsafe operation of a vessel while in station?” Pip suggested. “Unsanitary working conditions? Are you aware of the conditions these men work in, sir?”

  “What? What are you saying?” Bluster got the better of him and his communication degenerated into unintelligible mutterings.

  Agent Waters looked to Pip. “How do you explain your presence on this secured vessel?”

  Pip handed the tablet to Waters and nodded at the two guards in the back. “They signed us in. Here’s his thumbprint. Damn sloppy work. Is this how you keep a valuable asset secured, sir? Just let anybody walk up and take over?” This last was delivered to the blustering suit. “Your security penetration test failed, sir, in a most spectacular fashion. I suggest you tighten up your procedures before the auction next week. Who knows who else might get aboard or what they’ll do.”

  “Anything else?” Agent Waters asked.

  “No, I’ll file my full report with their CEO in the morning.”

  Agent Waters growled at the suit. “I’ll just pretend this was a friendly walk on the dock,” he said. “Filing false charges is a serious business.” He nodded to Pip. “Good evening, Mr. Maxwell. Mr. Benjamin.” He gathered his agents and the black-suited lot of them strolled away.

  Pip crossed to the suit and thrust the tablet into his hands. “You’ll want this,” he said and stalked off.

  I walked up to the suit and lowered my voice. “You’ll probably want to ream them out inside the ship. Witnesses ...” I cast my gaze around the small crowd that had gathered to watch the show. I gave him a little shrug and followed Pip.

  I fell into step with him as he passed the lift on the way back to the ship. “You’re going to have to explain this all to me when we get back to the ship,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. About that,” he said. “I haven’t been exactly truthful with you.”

  “Really? I’m shocked. Shocked. And by shocked I mean, are you totally out of your mind?”

  “Not totally. No.” He nodded toward the Prodigal Son’s dock.

  A black-suited figure lounged against the bulkhead and straightened as we came into view.

  “Jim. Good to see you again.”

  “Pip.” He said and smiled at me. “Captain Wang. How did you get mixed up with this idiot?”

  Pip laughed. “It’s a long story. Wanna beer? I’ve got some Clipper Ship in the hold.”

  He looked at the chronometer on the bulkhead and nodded. “You brought beer from Port Newmar?”

  “You going to arrest me for promoting trade?” Pip asked.

  “I’ll need to examine the evidence first,” he said.

  Pip laughed and keyed the lock.

  Knowing Pip, Agent Waters would find nothing but empty bottles.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Breakall Orbital:

  2374, August 3

  Watchstanding had gotten me used to being up at all hours, but even watchstanders got to sleep sometime. It was well past 0100 before the lock closed behind Agent Waters and I could corner Pip.

  I plopped myself down on the sofa in what I’d come to think of as the living room and glared across the empty bottles on the table. “Give.”

  “Give what?” he asked.

  “What did you find on the Chernyakova?”

  “What makes you think I found anything?”

  “You did. I know you. If you hadn’t found it, we’d still be back there looking.”

  He shrugged and picked up one of the bottles in front of him, shaking it side to side and holding it up to the light before draining what little was in it into his mouth. “You don’t want to know about Agent Waters?”

  “Jim? No, I think I’ve got that already. I’m just trying to figure out what I’ve bought into with this little farce of a partnership.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows shot up and he looked almost eager. “What do you think?” He said it in a “tell me a story” tone.

  I sighed and held up a finger. “You’re a TIC agent.” I added another finger. “You’re on assignment.” I added a third finger. “Waters knows what that assignment is.” I added the last finger on my hand. “It’s something to do with the Chernyakova. Those flashing icons are significant because they represent stations beyond CPJCT—and by extension, TIC—jurisdiction.”

  Pip pursed his lips and nodded. “Pretty good. What makes you think it’s a farce?”

  “I’m window-dressing. You needed somebody in command of the ship who has no link to TIC or the CPJCT, for some reason. Logically, it has something to do with those stations and protecting your undercover status.”

  “True, except for the window-dressing part, but substantially correct.”

  “Then what am I if not the window-dressing?”

  “You’re motive,” he said, his words so quiet I almost didn’t hear them over the blowers.

  “Motive?”

  He nodded. “The name David Patterson ring any bells?”

  “It does, but I can’t think of why.”

  “How about Percival Herring?”

  I felt my heart rate spike and I had to bite my tongue.

  “He’s your reason for going where we’re going,” Pip said. “I’m just a trader looking to open up some new—highly lucrative—markets.”
<
br />   “And you didn’t think you could be upfront with me because why?”

  “Orders. Everything is need-to-know.” He shrugged. “I never lied to you. Never told you anything that wasn’t the exact truth.” He offered a smile in apology. “It just wasn’t the whole truth.”

  “So this partnership?”

  “That’s real. I hope we make a shipload or four of credits. We’re investing a quarter billion and I suspect we’ll make a few billion in return. Enough to set up a whole fleet.”

  “Your economic model?”

  “Real. I suspect I’ll be able to collect a lot of data.”

  “Your father’s involvement?”

  Pip picked up another bottle and shook it. “I’m hoping I’ll hear from him about the deal soon and he’ll be in favor. Failing that, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Is he involved in TIC?”

  “No.”

  “But he knows you are.”

  “Your words, not mine.” He gave me one of his looks. “It’s largely irrelevant to the discussion and between my father and me.”

  I shrugged. “All right. So, he knows.”

  Pip grinned and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “Look. I don’t ever want to actually lie to you, but our security depends on having a complete, unassailable story. I need to get to where we’re going. You’ve got a reason to take me there. I really don’t want to color your story with mine because if you don’t tell a believable story, neither of us gets out alive.”

  “You’re asking me to risk my life for your mission?” I couldn’t believe he’d do that. “Without even telling me? I thought you were my friend.”

  He shook his head. “I’m asking you to risk your life to find the man who killed Greta and bring him to justice.” He shrugged. “I’m telling you now. There’s still time for you to back out. You might remember we have a clause built into our corporate charter and the partnership agreement. You can walk away any time.”

  I stared at him for several long moments. I couldn’t sort out the hurricane of thoughts and emotions inside my head. “Tell me,” I said.

  He shook his head in refusal. “I can’t tell you everything. Ask me a question. If I can answer it, I will. Honestly. If I can’t, I’ll tell you I can’t.”