Mapped Space 1: The Antaran Codex

by Stephen Renneberg

  “But if you sell it to us, does that get you into trouble?” I persisted.

  “There are conventions and prohibitions,” the Irzaen said carefully. “In truth, esteemed customer, such a sale breaks convention, but is not explicitly prohibited.”

  So this quadrupoid was peddling a seven million year old piece of alien-tech, looted from a graveyard mankind was barred from entering, by a grave robber we couldn’t identify and sold to us by a hologram who was bending, but not breaking interstellar law. And even though the Tau Cetins would take one look at it and know where it came from, there was supposedly no risk to us. I was finding it hard to swallow. So were the others, yet no-one was leaving.

  “Are you ready to begin, bidding the first?” Ani-Hata-Ga asked.

  There were cautious nods and murmurs of agreement.

  “You shall each make a confidential opening bid,” Sarat said, “which will be collected in secret and revealed this evening after dinner.”

  “Why the wait?” Gwandoya demanded impatiently.

  “After the bidding closes,” Sarat replied, “we will fully authenticate your digital-vault balances to ensure each bid is valid.”

  Digital-vaults had layers of authentication. Most transactions were executed quickly with the lowest level security, but full validation took time to process encryption keys through complex multivariate analyses. It was what enabled each vault-key to effectively be a tiny piece of Earth Bank itself.

  “You will enter your bids into this console,” Sarat said, motioning to a small Earth Bank auctioneer held by one of his butler-guards. The sturdy, rectangular machine was coated in black, poly-dense armor, with an unbroken Earth Bank molecular seal at the only access point, proof the machine’s internal systems had not been tampered with in any way. Such machines were rare outside the Core Systems, not only because of their cost, but because Earth Bank rarely let them out of their sight. Its verdict would be final and unequivocal and it would ensure the appropriate digital-vault keys were updated. “Shall we set the floor price at one thousand tera-credits?”

  Sarat watched us all, assessing if this astronomical figure was within our reach. I didn’t know if he’d picked that number because it was the price the Irzaen had instructed him to begin with, or because I’d shown him my bankroll – which in hindsight was a mistake. Either way, none of the other bidders seemed perturbed by the number, so I guess they all thought the Antaran Codex – whatever it was – was worth it.

  “Only one thousand tera-credits?” Breckinridge joked as he stepped forward, having decided to bid first as a show of confidence. The mining magnate inserted his vault key into the auctioneer and entered his bid, watched intently by Bo Qiang. I exchanged looks with Marie, seeing uncertainty in her eyes.

  “So Esmin, who’s going to win?” I whispered.

  “The best woman of course!” she said with more confidence than she felt. “And if you call me that name again, I’ll share your innermost secrets with . . . Jase!”

  I feigned a frown. “You wouldn’t?”

  She smiled, daring me to keep taunting her.

  When Breckinridge completed his bid, Vargis went next. When he was finished, I motioned for Bo to go next, but he declined.

  “I prefer to bid last, Captain Kade, if you don’t mind. It is an ancient Chinese tradition.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I said, approaching the machine and sliding Lena’s vault-key into the Earth Bank auctioneer, then waited while it verified my identify.

  There must have been a strategy to this kind of bidding, but I had no idea what it was. All I knew for sure was if I went too low, I’d be eliminated in the first round. I began to realize why the Irzaens had a reputation for shrewdness. This process was designed to panic buyers into paying as much as they could afford. I decided not to go all out in round one, but didn’t want to low ball myself, so I bet three quarters of the balance in the vault and hoped I’d still be in the game tomorrow.

  Marie followed me, then Bo Qiang went last.

  With round one bidding concluded, we retired to the lounge for cocktails and small talk. While I sipped my drink, I wondered what kind of alien-tech would attract a mining magnate, a pirate king, a white collar criminal genius, the Beneficial Society and a Chinese alien artifact collector? Whatever it was, even though Lena had given me an obscenely large bucket of credits to play with, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be enough.

  * * * *

  An impressive table was set for dinner in a banquet hall with panoramic views of the iceberg strewn sea. Before the first course arrived, a darkness descended over the ocean outside, broken only by the distant lights of a solitary factory ship.

  By unspoken agreement Marie and I sat together, while the inscrutable Bo Qiang sat on my other side. The other three bidders sat opposite, with Jase at one end of the table and Sarat, smoking one of his foul smelling fume-sticks, at the other. Sarat’s butler-guards moved around the table serving food and drinks efficiently, but without courtesy. To my surprise, dinner was not seafood, but included meat and vegetables, obviously prepared by a gourmet chef with imported ingredients.

  Presently, Vargis turned to Sarat and asked, “Why should we trust these Irzaens? For all we know this could be an elaborate swindle.”

  “Trust is their business, Senor Vargis. If they cheated you, other more important customers would hear about it.”

  “But why would anyone care if the Irzaens cheated us?” Breckinridge asked.

  “The Irzaens are an ancient and distinguished civilization,” Sarat replied. “Cheating the newest interstellar civilization in the entire galaxy would harm their reputation. That’s what they care about, not us.”

  “Even if they don’t cheat us,” I said, “what possible use are our credits to them?”

  Sarat took a long slow pull on his fume-stick, before exhaling. “They have no interest in our technology, our art or our culture, but they have discovered one thing we have that they want. You see they’re herbivores, which partly explains why they are one of the least aggressive species in the galaxy. Recently, they became aware of an Earth plant, called convallaria majalis, more commonly known as the ‘lily of the valley’. It’s an extremely aromatic plant, especially to Irzaen senses, and one they find particularly appetizing.”

  “Are you saying they want to buy flowers from us?” Gwandoya growled contemptuously.

  “No,” Sarat replied, “They want to buy food from us. A lot of food. Once they have the credits from this deal, they’ll establish diplomatic relations with Earth. They will then place a large ongoing order for that plant triggering a great new agricultural industry for mankind, one that will allow us to trade with one of the more advanced civilizations in the galaxy. They get – what is to them – a rare and exotic delicacy and we get rich. Everyone wins.”

  It made such good sense I began to wonder whether there really was an impending Access Treaty violation. If the Irzaens were the reputable traders Sarat claimed and the deal was ultimately about food, then the only risk was related to the Antaran Codex itself – and I wouldn’t know what that was until after the bidding. Even if the Codex really was harmless, I had to win the auction in case it wasn’t.

  The next course came and the conversation splintered. Presently, I whispered to Marie, “So Esmin, how long have you been fronting for the Society?”

  She held up her knife, admiring its sharp edge in the light. “Are you sure you want to keep calling me that name?”

  “Well, since you put it like that . . .”

  She lowered the knife to her plate. “My family has lived and breathed the Society for generations. I don’t front for them, I am them.”

  It had never occurred to me before, that there were inner layers to the Beneficial Society of Traders which were hidden from some members, even second generation members like me. Perhaps it was more of a secret society than I realized. “I’m surprised they’re interested in an old alien-tech relic.”

  She gave me a puzzled
look. “Really? How could they not be? It’s everything they ever wanted?”

  I was burning to know why the Society wanted it so badly, but once she realized I was in the dark, she’d play me. Irrespective of what we were in the bedroom, in this game we were competitors – and that’s how we both liked it.

  “Buying stolen or illegal alien-tech might upset the navy,” I said, “maybe even the Earth Council.”

  “The risk is worth it. You of all people should see that,” she said without looking up. “So how did you get mixed up with Jie Kang Li?”

  “Oh, we go way back.” When I’d been a serving EIS agent, I’d taken down a high ranking Yiwu crime lord and his gang on Shengtai, which was why I avoided PFA systems these days. There were still plenty of Yiwu agents out there who might recognize me. “Li introduced me to kung pao chicken. It’s a little hot for my taste, but he insisted I’d get used to it. I never did.”

  She looked bemused, unsure if I was joking or not. “What will the Yiwu do with the Codex, if you win?”

  “Jie Kang Li didn’t tell me.”

  She sliced through the beef on her plate, adding absently. “It’s not something I thought they could use.”

  “That’s what I said when Li offered me the job.”

  She turned towards me with a knowing look and whispered, “You have absolutely no idea what it is, do you?”

  As usual, she’d seen right through me. “Nope, not a clue. Care to throw me a bone?”

  “If only you hadn’t called me Esmin so many times!” She drained her glass of imported wine, patted me on the shoulder with mock sympathy and excused herself for the ladies’ room.

  When she was out of earshot, Bo Qiang leaned towards me and said in a low voice, “The Yiwu Alliance would find many uses for the Codex.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Oh yes,” he continued slowly. “They would pay a great deal for this kind of opportunity and would be very disappointed not to win. One might say, even angry with anyone who got in their way.”

  I realized Marie’s presence had distracted me, preventing me from noticing how carefully Bo had been listening to our conversation. I realized he’d shadowed me to the table, choosing his seat only after Marie and I had chosen ours, ensuring he sat beside me where he could listen to my every word.

  “You say that like a man with knowledge of such things,” I said.

  Bo inclined his head evasively. “I am a simple lawyer. I revere my ancestors. I care for my family. And I work tirelessly for my client.”

  “Right,” I said warily, sensing there was something else going on with Bo that I didn’t understand. “Your client is a collector?”

  “Most assuredly, Captain Kade. He is a man of great discretion, diverse interests and . . . sadly, an unforgiving nature.”

  There was no mistaking his implied threat, although I wasn’t sure why this seemingly innocuous little man would want to threaten me. “I guess you’ll be in trouble if you don’t win.”

  “There is one thing my client does not collect, Captain Kade.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Enemies,” Bo said quietly.

  “Everyone has enemies.”

  “An enemy is only an enemy until he is dead, and then he is just a corpse,” Bo said with quiet menace.

  For the first time, I realized there was a cold ruthless streak in little Bo. He’d hidden it well, but for some reason he’d decided to reveal it to me. “Right, he has no enemies because he’s unforgiving.”

  “Precisely.”

  I had a terrible feeling I knew what Bo was trying to tell me and it wasn’t simply that the enemies of his client ended up dead. “This client of yours, this unforgiving collector, his name would be . . . ?”

  “Jie Kang Li,” Bo whispered so no-one else would hear.

  “Of course it is,” I said knowing my cover was blown.

  I wondered if I could kill Bo without drawing attention to the act. The others were talking quietly among themselves. The butler-guards were hovering nearby, but no one was paying us any particular attention. I knew when Marie returned, all male eyes would be drawn to her beauty, if only for a moment. With ultra-reflexed muscles, I could kill Bo with a single, lightning fast blow to the temple, or break his neck, but could I do it fast enough not to be seen? “It seems Jie Kang Li is bidding against himself.”

  Bo sipped his green tea, replacing the cup slowly. “I think not, Captain Kade.”

  “Then one of us is not who he says he is.”

  Bo pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Apparently not.”

  Marie returned to the room and for a moment all eyes turned towards her as expected. I tensed, thinking I could drive a knuckle into Bo’s temple in under a second, then pretend he was choking and jump to my feet to help him, masking the blow.

  “The cautious seldom err,” Bo said quickly.

  I hesitated. “What?”

  “The cautious seldom err,” he repeated. “Confucius said it four and half thousand years ago. Wise then, wiser today.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Attempting to strike me down would not be cautious, Captain Kade. Indeed, it would be a grievous error.”

  He’d read my body language? I’d tensed ever so slightly, preparing to strike in a way that should have been impossible to read.

  Bo saw the confusion on my face. “In martial arts, one studies the eyes, not the form, to anticipate an opponent’s move. For a grand master, a look is an eternity.”

  I’d telegraphed my intention with my eyes? It seemed impossible but Bo was telling me he was a grand master – and he’d been right! Even if he wasn’t re-sequenced, a grand master might just be fast enough to deflect an ultra-reflexed blow. It was something I’d never put to the test and decided with no chance of surprise, this wasn’t the time or place to try. I visibly relaxed, leaned toward him and whispered, “You’re not really a lawyer, are you?”

  “I know where the law begins, where it ends and all that lies beyond.”

  I took that as a yes, giving Marie a welcoming smile as she returned to her seat. While she refilled her wine glass, I whispered to Bo, “Do we have a problem?”

  “Not tonight. Tomorrow perhaps.”

  I lifted my glass and toasted him. “Until tomorrow then and . . . to caution.”

  Bo inclined his head, returning my toast with his cup of green tea, throwing me another piece of Confucian wisdom, “Silence is a true friend who never betrays.”

  “To silence,” I said, wondering if I could make a deal with Bo as he seemed in no hurry to expose me.

  At the end of the table, Mukul Sarat tapped his wine glass several times for quiet, then said, “I’m pleased to inform you that the Earth Bank auctioneer has validated all bids, making this an extremely prosperous group.”

  Everyone had their poker faces on, revealing nothing, except for Gwandoya who appeared increasingly irritated by the process. Clearly, he was used to taking what he wanted and killing anyone in his way.

  Sarat motioned to the polished rock wall behind him, which dissolved into a blue screen. “The qualifying bids will be displayed on this screen. If your name does not appear, you will not be participating in the second round. The entire process is automated and controlled by the Earth Bank auctioneer to the extent that even I do not know the results.”

  We all focused our attention on the screen to see Arturo Vargis’ name appear first.

  “Congratulations Senor,” Sarat said, “Your bid was the highest.”

  There was a round of polite congratulations from everyone except Gwandoya. Vargis nodded curtly with no sign of surprise or relief. From his demeanor, it was obvious he expected to win, and now he had the tactical advantage of knowing the highest bid. A moment later, Bo Qiang’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Congratulations Mr Bo,” Sarat said, “your bid was the second highest.”

  Again Gwandoya was the only bidder not to acknowledge the qualifying bidder. Bo’s face
was impassive, but for a moment I saw a flicker of anger and surprise in his expression. He took a breath, burying whatever had incensed him and accepted the congratulations humbly. Bo then fell into a brooding silence, although he gave no hint as to why.

  When my name appeared next, Sarat said, “Congratulations Captain Kade, your bid has qualified you for the second round.”

  “Way to go, Skipper!” Jase said enthusiastically, holding up a glass of Sarat’s finest wine and throwing it back in one gulp.

  I acknowledged the other’s congratulations, seeing the tension on the faces of the three contenders now competing for the final place. Marie was worried while Breckinridge’s courteous joviality was replaced by a nervous intensity. Gwandoya looked like he was about to explode, making me glad that Sarat had disarmed him.

  Finally, the last name appeared, bringing a smile to Sarat’s lips. “Congratulations Mademoiselle Dulon, you are the fourth bidder.”

  Marie’s tension was instantly replaced by a gracious smile. “Thank you.”

  “At least you’ll be joining us for breakfast,” I whispered.

  “It’s a pity you won’t be here for lunch,” she said through her smile.

  Gwandoya stood up angrily, stared at the screen with bulging eyes and a clenched jaw, then smashed his glass onto the floor and stormed out.

  “Not a good loser,” I said.

  “Hopefully you will take your defeat tomorrow in a better spirit,” Vargis said.

  “I’m not a good loser either.”

  “He really isn’t,” Marie said in a confiding tone, “although he should be, because I beat him all the time.”

  “I only let you win to give you a false sense of security.”

  “Sure you do,” Marie said patronizingly.

  Sarat turned to the mining magnate. “Thank you, Mr Breckinridge, for coming all this way. I’m sorry it hasn’t turned out better for you.”

  Breckinridge shrugged. “Thank you for the invitation.”