A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4

by Michael Kotcher

  “We have a need, yes, you could say that,” Shayenne Laurent replied, her face looking slightly concerned, but far from desperate. “We had some… well I suppose you could call it a domestic issue with our own fuel production and refineries. We lost about a third of our production capability and it’s been just hell trying to get through. We’ve had to slam everything into austerity measures, the public is dealing with it, but of course they aren’t happy. But it just isn’t enough. I have a copy of the contract that we sent with your company security ship. Were you able to get a copy?”

  “No, I think we must have just missed Mondragon when we left Seylonique.”

  She nodded in understanding. “No problem, then, I’ll send a copy over to you. The terms are the same, in fact, I think I can probably throw in a bonus for this early delivery. We weren’t actually expecting you for another two to three weeks.”

  He smiled, one of genuine pleasure. “Always glad to make the customer happy.”

  “How much fuel are you carrying?”

  “Six of my cargo holds are filled with it,” Vincent said, settling more comfortably in the chair. “I’ve reserved the rest of my transport capacity for other cargo items, which reminds me. I need to speak with someone about leasing a spot on your orbital ring. I have some satellites that I would like to place up here. I’m going to have some customers on the planet and in the orbital, I hope, that are going to want to use them.”

  She nodded, though it was clear this wasn’t expected. “Very well, I’ll speak with someone once we get this fuel situation straightened out.”

  “I appreciate that, Senior Proconsul.” An indicator lit up and he pressed a control on the table console. Another display activated, showing the contract, which scrolled text slowly across the display. He nodded offscreen and Stella’s face appeared on his own HUD, then jumped to the display with the contract. It tool less than two seconds for her two look everything over (far less, actually, but for his sake, she made it seem as though it took that long) and then give him a thumbs up of approval. “I believe this is acceptable.”

  She raised one eyebrow in surprise. “That was quick. You trust us that much?”

  He sighed. “I had my AI check it out for me. She didn’t find any problems.”

  The Senior Proconsul sat and stared for a long moment. Then she seemed to accept this. “I see. Well, then if everything is acceptable, once you get those contracts signed, I can send one of our fuel tenders over and we can get the fuel transferred.”

  Vincent thumbed the contract and sent it back. She nodded when she received it. “Do you need us to change our orbit?”

  “I’ll speak with our Orbital Traffic Control, they’ll let you know.” She looked at something outside the vid pickup, nodding to someone. “The fuel tender is on its way now, Captain. I hope this is the beginning of a long and productive relationship.”

  “I believe I would like that very much, Senior Proconsul,” Vincent replied with feeling. “I will await your fuel tender.” The screen went blank. He turned to Stella, whose face was still visible on the other active display. “And you’re sure this contract is aboveboard?”

  She nodded, her pigtails bobbing. “Yes, Captain. There aren’t any tricks this time. I went over it with the finest-toothed comb, digitally speaking, that I could. Nice, tidy profit. And she did throw in a little bonus for early delivery.”

  “That’s not too bad,” he said, looking over the numbers that Stella highlighted on the text. “But it’s not amazing and I don’t think if that’s all that’s being paid if we’re going to be attempting to break any hyperspace speed records to get it. But hey, if they’re willing to pay, I’m not going to say no.”

  “What about the other stuff we brought?” Stella asked.

  “That’s a trifle more problematic,” Vincent admitted. “I have no doubt that the government will lease us the space on the orbital ring for the control satellites, but finding people to actually buy the A2 replicators? That I’m a bit more concerned about. We don’t have the contacts here that we have back in Seylonique.”

  She smiled at him. “And how did we get those contacts back in Seylonique?”

  “We talked to an engineer who referred us to someone else.” He tapped his lips with one finger. “I think it’s time I unleash Ardeth to go and meet the people.”

  It didn’t actually take the cargo specialist all that long. Vincent had brought twenty-five of the compact A2 replicators as well as an equivalent number of micro fusion reactors to go with them. In talking with some of the engineers on the orbital station (“Hey, we had a plan that worked back in Seylonique, why change that here?”), Ardeth was able to lease ten of them on the very first trip, making a separate deal for the same number of micro fusion reactors.

  It was actually more difficult to get a space on the orbital ring for the control satellites. When it was realized by several of the prospective customers that they wouldn’t be able to use these devices to make more, and that they were in fact leasing these devices, not buying them, the cargo specialist and his captain had lost more than a few sales. In fact, once the government realized what it was that First Principles wanted the satellites for, even the engineers on the orbital (who only hours before were falling all over one another to get a hold of as many of the devices as they could) were finding their enthusiasm cooled.

  “These A2 replicators can build all sorts of things, as you know,” Vincent was saying to Shayenne Laurent, a few days later. The fuel was still being unloaded but the payment had already been transferred into the new accounts Vincent had set up with the local bank, but transferring the fuel to the tender and then to the orbital was taking time. It took about six hours to transfer all the fuel from one of the massive cargo holds over to the fuel tender, then hours more to dock it with the orbital, then transfer the fuel, then return it back to the Grania Estelle to do it all again. They were working on the second to last of the cargo holds, so they should only be another fifteen to twenty hours before the last of the holds was empty.

  “Yes, Captain, that’s why we want to get them,” Shayenne replied, a slight frown creasing her brows. “But the whole idea of your control satellites…”

  Vincent shrugged. “These are my replicators. If you want to use them, I need to make sure that the people I lease them to aren’t cheating my company.”

  “So just sell them outright,” Shayenne demanded, throwing her arms to the side. She was standing in the wardroom aboard the Grania Estelle, while Vincent was seated calmly in his usual spot at the head of the table.

  “I have an edge, why would I give that up?” Vincent replied simply. “I brought these replicators here to help out the locals businesses and I know that more than a few of your own engineers are drooling to get their hands on my A2s so that they can start churning out replacement parts. In order to get the A2s, you have to have the control satellites. But as I said, you’re the one in charge in this system. It’s your call whether or not you take the deal.”

  She considered him for a long moment. “All right. Let’s say I take this deal, make my engineers happy. What’s with the satellites? Just to make sure your money gets paid?”

  He shrugged. “In part. But also, it’s to monitor the devices themselves. If you try and mess with the encryption, the devices will melt down. If the devices are taken away from the location where they’ve been sold, within a two kilometer radius, they melt down. If someone tries to steal it, it melts down. If you try and make something that is a no-no, like weapons-“

  “It melts down?” she asked, sardonically.

  “Actually no,” Vincent replied. “The memory core on the device doesn’t have any weapon designs uploaded into it. You can upload designs of anything you want, but if a weapon gets uploaded, it will not build it for you, not without the proper codes, which your citizens won’t have. You need weapons: you can get them somewhere else. I don’t deal in arms.”

  “And if the satellites just happen to get disabled?�
� she asked innocently.

  He smiled sweetly. “Then all of the replicators melt down, simultaneously. I told you, I’m not going to let someone cheat my company. Those are the rules, rules that I explain to everyone who wants to use one of my replicators.” He shrugged again. “You don’t want to follow my rules then you don’t get to use my replicators. It’s really that simple.”

  She twisted her lips, fighting a grimace. “Very well. But if those satellites are going to cause any problems, you and your people had better fix them. I won’t have your miracle devices disrupting the local economy because your satellite failed and they all melted down.”

  “Don’t you worry,” he told her, “I’ll hold up my end. I have no desire to have hordes of screaming customers howling for my head. So long as something doesn’t physically plow into any of them, there shouldn’t be any problems.” The Senior Proconusl didn’t look entirely convinced by that. “On our next trip here, I’ll look into setting up a satellite office, with techs and equipment to service those devices.”

  Laurent grimaced. “I’m less inclined to let you just leave those things in orbit if there’s going to be no one here to take care of those satellites.”

  He sighed. “Senior Proconsul, it isn’t as though I’m leaving something dangerous in orbit. I’ll let you scan the devices’ hardware, and you can see for yourself that there aren’t any weapons or explosives on board, nor anything dangerous on board.”

  “How are they powered?”

  He sighed again. “They have a solar panel array which provides most of the electrical power, but there is also a small He3 reactor on board to provide power when it’s in the shadow of the planet or the orbital.”

  “So it is a flying bomb,” she stated flatly.

  His last bit of patience finally snapped. “Very well then. I will be making calls to the people who have already expressed an interest in my A2 replicators and explain to them that the government is forbidding them to have these devices. Including the government engineers working on the orbital.”

  “If you were to lease the devices, but without the control satellites…” she began.

  But Vincent cut her off. “And I’ve already explained to you that that’s just not going to happen. We’ll continue with the transport and sale of the He3 fuel, but I’m not going to sit here and continue arguing with you and the rest of the government about the rules for using my replicators.”

  “You’re in Ulla-tran sovereign space, Captain,” she told him haughtily. “Any rules that get made will not be by you.”

  Vincent scowled. “So what does that mean? You’re about to send soldiers aboard my ship to come and take my property?”

  She just had a little smile on her face as she leaned against the bulkhead, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “We’re not really going to play this game, are we?” Vincent asked. “You don’t like my terms, you threaten me, in subtle ways and then in not so subtle ways. I trigger catastrophic failure on all the A2s and you’re left with nothing. Then to top it all off, no matter what your retribution to me or my ship, I can promise you that my company will not be sending one drop more of fuel to this system.” Now it was her turn to glower and he could see that she had gone pale at his words. He took a very deep breath. “How did we get to this point, Senior Proconsul? We had a good thing going here, a productive relationship starting here and now we’re threatening each other.”

  She shook her head and blinked, as though clearing her mind. “Yes, this does seem unfortunate. Perhaps we should hold off on the replicators and satellites for this trip, give my government some time to consider all the angles and we can try again next time.”

  He grimaced, but suspected that this was probably the best he could hope for. Then he gave a mental shrug. If the people here in Ulla-tran didn’t want to follow the rules, then they didn’t get the toys. There would be other markets, Heb, probably. Or maybe Bimawae. Maybe both.

  “I think that might be best,” he said in agreement. He didn’t actually agree, but it was better that he acknowledge what she was saying, let her bring it back to the government and let them fight about it. He’d have his cargo specialist get the work out and hopefully a mob of angry potential customers would get the government moving in the proper direction. He mentally smiled. Tamara wasn’t the only one who knew how to get things moving.

  She nodded to him, pushing away from the bulkhead. “I believe I will be heading back to the orbital, Captain. How long will you remain in orbit?”

  “Only another two days,” Vincent replied. “I have a cargo of engine parts as well as several containers of hydraulic fluid and coolant to load. We’re having to convert one of my cargo bays back to standard configuration, which takes time.”

  “So one day to change over the cargo hold and another day to load the cargoes?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I also want to give my people some liberty on your orbital station. They’ve been cooped up aboard the ship for the whole trip here. Give them some time to go aboard the station, see the sights; spend some credits.”

  Laurent chuckled. “I’m sure the local business owners will appreciate that.” Then she frowned. “How much cargo are you actually bringing back to Seylonique, Captain?”

  He shrugged, letting out a breath. Vincent leaned back in his chair. “Well, it certainly isn’t enough to fill all of my holds, not by a long shot. It’s only filling one and a half of my available holds. But, having all those empty holds will save on fuel costs for the trip back. Also, the lack of serious mass will allow us to make some better time on the way back. My engineer is crunching the numbers, but he’s thinking that we can push up high into the Yellow level of the rainbow, perhaps level five or six. Which will be amazing for a bulk freighter as old as this baby,” Vincent said, patting the table fondly. “Cut several days off the trip, depending on how much extra speed we can get out of her.”

  “I see. But you will be back with another load of fuel for us?” Laurent asked, her voice betraying just the slightest hint of nervousness.

  “Don’t worry, Senior Proconsul. Considering the amount of profit I’m bringing in on this run, added with the fact that you want repeat business? Yes, I will be back this way with all alacrity.” He gestured to her. “In fact, if you’ve got another contract for me, I’ll get that thumbed for you and we can get moving.”

  Tamara was looking over the latest reports on the various defensive satellites and platforms that were coming online around the three biggest pieces of FP real estate. Each location now had at least six of the Mark 2 platforms, which carried a complement of twenty missiles, as well as four double turbolasers that would easily find a home on a ship as big as a heavy cruiser. All of them were tied into a command and control net, extending the sensor range of the various stations. The shipyard and the mining station (which was back up to 80 percent capacity now) each had six and the Kutok mine had eight. Well, eleven in a pinch. The three “heaters” were also reasonably close to the gas giant and were close enough to tie into the defense net. Of course, using the heaters would completely screw the melted steel ball project, which still had another month to go before it would be time to start spinning it to change it from a big ball of steel to a big plate of steel. The Mark 2s were static defenses, which made the admin council less nervous and (not that she actively sought it out) Councilor Hroth had personally sent a note to FP’s offices stating her approval given what had happened at the Kutok mine.

  There were four more days before the Councilor could be gracing them with her august presence, and Tamara wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that. It wasn’t as though she was going to have to bunk with the she-wolf, since most of Tamara’s time was spent aboard Moxie-2, but the days where Tamara had a free hand to do as she wished here in the outer system were just about over.

  Well, it was good while it lasted. She gave a sigh and gave a glance over to the two other displays that were active. There were two programs up; as she was multitaskin
g on three different things at once. In addition to her daily amounts of paperwork (which was never ending), she was watching the code for her new Engineering AI compile. The program wasn’t quite to a self-sustaining level yet, but the fledgling AI was nearly there. Perhaps it would be ready by the time the Councilor arrived. It would certainly be quite the coup to show the government official the newest member of the First Principles’ family.

  The third project was the plans for the new company replicators and control implants. It was this third project that that was the most troubling. Tamara had built plenty of replicators in her time, first in the Navy and then once she awoke from her long sleep. But those were tried and tested Republic style devices. This was the first time she’d ever designed, programmed and built one from scratch. She’d sent the initial designs and control code to Ka’Xarian and his team over at the shipyard to go over everything and continue with the coding. She was confident with the encryption, it was just the control subroutines that needed tweaking. She also wanted Xar and his team to have a hand in building the devices; to see what they were made of. They could build ships, but that was just following directions. But she wanted the zheen and his fellows to be innovators and what better way then to chuck them in the deep end and see how they did on such a critical project?

  Moxie-2 was in a parking orbit above the gas giant, out of the way of the orbital traffic, but close enough to be within easy radio range. Tamara looked up as another display activated. Magnus’ porcine visage appeared, looking as stern and forboding as ever. It wasn’t often that the security AI for the gas mine would contact her directly, so she stopped her work and looked at him.

  “Magnus,” she said, addressing him. “How can I help you?”

  “We just got a burst transmission from the planet, local news.” He actually sounded slightly disgusted.