Home: Interstellar: Merchant Princess

by Strong, Ray

  See if you can find anything on a colony named Haven or a station called LeHavre.

  Haven, she thought. John. I didn’t thank him for helping me out. She leaned back on the bench and imagined the two possible outcomes for her—prison or traction—if he had not intervened between her and the two stim addicts. He did not look like a fighter but seemed competent. How many other non-lethal weapons does he carry?

  One of the thugs had called her “Cruiser” when he had first confronted her. Was it really just an insult, or did he know she worked cargo? Her fatigues were hidden in her bag. They might recognize me as a spacer by my walk or the proximity to the handholds or maybe just my nervousness on a station. But why cargo?

  Meriel walked to the window and waved her link near the button. “Excuse me, Officer. Do you have a moment?”

  The window clarified. “Is it business?”

  “You betcha. You’ve seen thousands of people come by here, huh?” she said, and he nodded. “So, what do you think I’m rated for?”

  The cop smiled. “Well a pretty young—”

  “Way off. Start over.”

  The desk sergeant shrugged. “Spacer, of course. Right handed. Study a lot. Marine training, maybe three or four. Let me see your hands.” Meriel showed her hands in front of the window. “Marine three. Got a rough past—no I don’t want to know. Shipside accident maybe with a torch.”

  “I thought I covered that.”

  “You still flinch. You’re bailing out friends, not just shipmates.” He smiled broadly. “Right. And you were with them.” Meriel opened her mouth, but he waved his hand. “No need to deny it.” He squinted. “Trouble sleeping. Boost—”

  “OK, OK. I wasn’t looking for a CAT scan. Rating?”

  “Hmmm. Not security. Nav? Communications?”

  “Anything that would indicate cargo?”

  He looked at her again and squinted. “Nope.”

  “OK, thanks.”

  “You still get insulted when they call you a cruiser?” he asked. “Don’t take it personally. Some guy called my wife a cruiser.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Dunno really. Seems he kinda disappeared,” the desk sergeant said and fogged the window.

  Then why did the thug call me a cruiser? Maybe he saw me dockside. Maybe it was just an insult to throw me off.

  The scene on the monitor switched to an interview of a tall man in uniform impatiently slapping a riding crop against his leg.

  “General Subedei Khanag of the Draconian League and follower of the Archtrope of Calliope has posted his fleet near Chosho Station. A spokesman for the government called the presence of Khanag’s highly armed ships intimidating and provocative. The general was candid in a recent interview with INS news correspondent Uriah Limets.”

  “Why have you brought so many armed ships into neutral space, General Khanag?”

  “Merely as a sign of support and solidarity,” Khanag said.

  Meriel heard repeated shouts of “Subedei!” from the men behind him led by a handsome young man with captain’s bars.

  “I assure you we only wish Representative Allen and the archtrope the best of luck in this election.”

  “Allen’s opponent has claimed that you plan a new front in the Immigration Wars right here on TC-4.”

  “Nothing of the kind, I assure you. Such silly rumors should not be entertained for an instant. As believers, we value all human life and would never use our powers in the Immigration Wars. Those battles are for the desperate and the fascists. We support self-determination and the will of the populace to decide their own future.”

  “General, where will the archtrope send you next?”

  “Don’t misunderstand. The archtrope is my spiritual guide and prophet, not my commander…”

  Another front in the Immigration Wars, Meriel thought, and another band of thugs to fight them. If we get the Princess back, I’ll remember to stay away. She shook her head and sighed. So just how am I going to get the Princess back?

  “Chief Hope,” the officer said, interrupting her thoughts. “Tiger crew will be at R258T in three minutes. I’m sure you know the way, yes?” Meriel smiled, waved, and left the police station, then walked to the detention-center exit.

  A few minutes after she arrived, John came out leading the crews of the Tiger and Rowley. Cookie came out arm in arm with the muscle from the bar, both of them in their T-shirts, and the blonde who had instigated the fight squeezed in between them. Meriel noted the similar marine tattoos on the two men’s biceps.

  The big man came over to Meriel. “Thank your cap’n for us, dearie,” he said and extended his hand. However, before his hand reached her, he began to fall backward with the same speed as the extended hand, and it appeared suspended in space. A second later his body pulled his hand back, and he fell to the deck and began to snore. The Rowley crew picked the big man up, his arm still extended in the air, and they all boarded the cargo cart.

  Cookie and the blonde talked softly in the back of the cart on the way to the docks and hugged when Meriel dropped off the Rowley crew.

  “Who’s the blonde, Cookie?” Meriel asked as she drove them back to the Tiger.

  “Ex-wife.”

  “Whose?” John asked.

  “His…and mine. She’s the reason I left the Marines.”

  Meriel just shook her head.

  Lander Station—Outbound

  At the Tiger’s gangway, Meriel found a small package that had been left for her, logged the mass in her allotment, and then supervised the cargo loading and undocking. Hours remained before they would reach the jump point safely away from the station mass and traffic. Meriel could do nothing about the Princess until she heard more from Teddy or Nick. She wanted to tell Elizabeth what she’d learned, but her sister could do nothing but worry. The package beckoned, but Meriel needed to respond to the messages before they synched again and went to the mess.

  She cued a message from nineteen-year-old Penny Hubbard. Penny had heard that Sam Spurell, Tommy’s kid brother, had been beaten up on eIndi.

  The Snapdragon crew did it, but I’m sure his crew set him up, M. They all seem so happy to see us get hurt. The second we let it slip that we’re trying to get back together on another ship, they start accusing us of disloyalty and lack of commitment—all kinds of lies. Can you get him reassigned, M? I’m afraid they are going to arrange an “accident” for him, and he’ll really get hurt. Please, M. Please.

  Sam didn’t mention that, Meriel thought. Trying to tough it out and not whine, I bet. So, what can I say to her that she doesn’t already know?

  Sorry, but Sam’s under contract for another six months. We don’t have enough to buy him off and don’t have another ship to put him on. Sam knows all that. I’ll send him a note. M.

  She looked at the vid of the Princess. I’m screwing up, Mom. We’re falling apart. We’re all split up, and I can’t do anything about it. Meriel put her head on her arms and wanted to cry. Crying won’t help. Eighteen days of crying and the Princess will be gone forever, and I will have no chance of getting us all together again.

  She sent another message to her hacker friend, Nick, at the next station and then typed in “L5,” where John grew up, as a search keyword. She knew most of the L5 story—it was the first habitat in Earth’s L5 libration point.

  The link within the article projected a hologram of a garbage can with slits along the sides, parallel to the axis. It then panned out to show L5 poised dramatically against the edge of Earth and the rising sun to give contrast to its shape. Some shots inside looked like an idealized planet Earth with farms and buildings and playgrounds. That was when L5 was brand new.

  L5 grew steadily with success. To house the growing population, parks became high-density arcologies and farms became hydroponics tanks. Over the course of a century, the beauty was eradicated. When business weakened, the bond ghouls tried to abandon it with the inhabitants on board. The L5ers revolted and declared their independe
nce. After a few years, they disappeared. If I believe John, the L5ers were med-geniuses and turned up on Haven. So, what about this Haven colony they occupy now? She looked up Haven and LeHavre in Galactipedia but found nothing and gave up. She would need to wait for Nick to find something.

  Meriel opened the package and found a book with a handwritten note within.

  Your mother gave this to me when I went through a rough patch some years back. She said it was her favorite book and that her mother had given it to her. I’m sure she would want you to have it, especially now.

  “Be not the stone upon which the wave of history crashes; be the wheel upon which it turns.”

  T.

  From Teddy. My grandma’s book. Physical books were rare now that photons were free and fuel was expensive. She laid the book on her desk, and it fell open to a dog-eared page. Meriel began to read.

  “Once in an age, the forces of darkness align to bend the arc of history.

  “And once in an age, the arc of history bends around the wheel of one committed person who, acting from his or her own virtuous interests, changes the course of history: the child who raises the flag above the barricades; the mother who thrusts the picture of her murdered child before the dead eyes of the tyrant; the girl who refuses to deny her love for God while her flesh burns at the stake—individuals who grip a shred of civilization with both hands and will not give it up…”

  Meriel finished the passage in tears. Thanks, Teddy.

  ***

  Eight light years away, a tight-beam laser carried a very private conversation.

  “We’re on a schedule, and the pieces are moving into place. We need this closed, Benedict.”

  “I told you that we can’t force this earlier than the twenty-one days. The courts won’t let us,” Benedict said.

  “How much more are they asking?”

  “It’s not about money now. There were too many policy changes, and the authorities are suspicious. There have been…inquiries, and our friends are afraid of exposure.”

  “The forces are in motion. We can’t delay.” There was a pause on the line. “What about just blowing it up?”

  “It’s an option, sir, but it would endanger Enterprise Station. Sir, are you willing to risk the viability of the station?”

  “Hmm, not yet,” he said, but conviction was absent in his voice. “What about the orphans? Are they still quiet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then watch them closely to make sure something does not…remind them, especially the older one. What’s her name?”

  “Hope, sir,” Benedict said. “Why not just terminate her now?”

  “It might draw attention to our plans. The quiet disappearance of either the ship or the girl would be optimum.”

  “We have someone close now, sir.”

  “How close?” he asked. “Never mind. I don’t need to know the specifics. He has discretion to…terminate?”

  “His talent is cleverness rather than wet work.”

  “Then please make sure that his cleverness has a backup. If there’s any hint she can put this together, we want this over quickly and quietly.”

  “Collateral damage control?” Benedict asked.

  “Our concern is unwanted publicity, not casualties,” he said and ended the communication.

  Chapter 4 Free Space

  Unprepared

  “You’re whistling again, Chief,” Lev said during checks of the data integrity.

  “Again? Sorry,” Meriel said. She had woken from jump without nightmares and felt better than she had in months. Thank God for boost.

  “It’d be fine if you could hold a tune,” he said.

  “Thanks. That will show up on your readiness report. Hey, I’m taking a break,” Meriel said and used the cruiser’s console to scan the messages they picked up at the outbound beacon. They were light years from a comm beacon to synch with, so there was no hurry to reply.

  The arrangements for Harry’s party look OK and will take place even if I’m not there in person. Only Anita’s boat is in the sector. Says here it’ll be parked on asteroid X44t, not too far from Enterprise. She might make it. Wow, Harry would love that.

  From nz: text me when you are on station.

  Meriel sighed, not realizing how much she depended on him. “Acknowledge.”

  She pulled up the training app for the kids that displayed a grid with names, ratings achieved, and posts held. OK, let’s see what we got. Harry had achieved a logistics-2 rating. Wow! What can we do to celebrate that? His boat will acknowledge him, but he needs something from the kids. Elizabeth had marine-2 and almost nav-2. No one has a galley rating, Meriel thought. I need to tell the kids to train, or we’ll have to hire a cook. Erik has qualified for nav-two, and he’s only seventeen. He must have the gift, like Teddy.

  When they were kids, little Erik would join her and her dad, Tommy, and little Elizabeth in the holo room to play the star game “Where Am I.” The room would project a 3-D starfield as if they were EVA. The challenge was to find out where you were and how to get to the nearest fuel-and-food source. Each player’s link told them the specs on each star, brightness, spectrum, red shift…but not its name or location. Instead, you could just point to it, and a callout would appear; nav simulators worked the same way but did most of the work for you. Using your personal link meant you could keep your speculations a secret from the others. If you named one of the stars or star groups, the program would flag it. One step was to pick three stars, or two stars and the sector. Then the image would pull back and show you the five nearest stations along with your current location. To win, you had to pick the station that met your fuel needs and had food for you and cargo to earn your fuel. Usually picking two stars correctly was enough to win as long as you remembered the nearby stations. Eric always remembered, and he usually won.

  Meriel frowned at the training log and leaned back in her chair. They needed level four or five ratings on all bridge posts, and the kids only have a few threes. We’re not ready, she thought, and won’t be for years. Oh well.

  She pulled up Galactipedia to continue her research on L5.

  In 2162, financial interests behind L5 pulled together a deal with GSPX Galactic [link] for another station, much larger and intended for the asteroid trade…GSPX traded the L5 orbit for the deed to a speculative destination about twenty light years from Earth along with a few cargo ships with old FTL technology. Within two years, thirty-five thousand L5 residents left, telling people only that they were “going home” and have not been heard from since…

  No word since? If John is right, BioLuna’s gag on the news is tight. And in 2160, traveling twenty light years from Earth would have taken them years. Must have used some kind of sleep and swapped crews.

  She leaned back in her harness. They said they were going home, she thought and held the sim-chip on her necklace again.

  Only seventeen days remained to save the Princess and six to accept the bid. She made up her mind. Legal or not, she would find a way to explore the Princess on their next stop on Enterprise. If she found anything that would help, anything at all, she would decline the bid and work to clear the Princess.

  Training

  “I’m confused,” Meriel said to John. “I get the laws of nav and relative position and the uncertainty in jump and all, but I get confused trying to visualize relative motion.” John had volunteered to help Meriel with her nav exam and invited her to the bridge.

  “You should be confused. It’s not human,” John said. “To think of the way things really move makes you dizzy. Really, you get dizzy. Here—imagine you are on a moon watching the motions of the planets and a sun.” He turned the lights in the bridge off and displayed a hologram of Jupiter and nearby space. “Here’s a view of Sol system from Europa.” Lines like ribbons appeared to show the relative paths of Sol and Saturn and inner planets through space. The ribbons twisted and spun, and soon the bridge was filled with epicycles and helixes. “OK?” he asked, and Meriel s
quinted and nodded. “Oops, I cheated. Here’s what it really looks like with Europa rotating.” Now the display became chaotic, like teams of rhythmic gymnasts twirling ribbons.

  She tried to follow the twisting patterns but could not. “Whoa,” she said and closed her eyes. She got dizzy, as John had predicted. John froze the display and added soft lighting to the bridge. Meriel noticed that he had moved a bit closer with the lights off, and she liked it.

  “That’s how people saw things before Copernicus and other geniuses made calculations that predicted those paths.”

  Meriel blinked. “Why did they even bother?”

  “Navigation and agriculture. They started with Earth as the point of reference to make sense of it all. But you saw what they ended up with. So a genius changed the point of view to make it simpler.” John brought up another series of projections. “When you look at the orbit of a moon, you stand on the planet it orbits; when you look at the orbit of a planet, you stand on the star it orbits.”

  “Because otherwise, we get dizzy,” she said.

  “Right. And when you look at the movement of stars, you put yourself in the middle of the galaxy. Here’s what Sol and its planets look like from the Galactic Ecliptic.”

  Meriel watched John’s big hands move over the console controls. Rough hands, she thought, not like a spacer pilot who’d spent his life on the boards.

  The disk of the galaxy appeared, and John zoomed into a bright star that seemed to dive below and surface above the plane of the ecliptic, like a dolphin following a ship. Around the bright star, eight smaller objects spiraled.

  “Everything is moving,” she said softly, hypnotized by the motion. The first law of nav.