A Check for a Billion

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “I’m in the system.” It took Brainiac about a minute to deal with the cruiser’s security system. “Projecting the ship layout to your HUD now. Identifying the passengers on board. Highlighting your objective.”

  The individual we needed was located in the other end of the cruiser. There were a thousand and a half Precians on board altogether, of whom two hundred were crew. Of course, a cruiser of this size could accommodate more, but everyone loved comfort.

  “You are now engineers of the third rank, with the access of first rank personnel.” Brainiac worked his magic, adding two new crew members with high level access to the cruiser crew. Becoming an officer didn’t interest me. There weren’t that many of them on the ship and their movements would be monitored more closely. But who’s going to pay attention to some maintenance staff? Especially of the third rank? Especially humans? We were mere handymen of the bring-that-here-and-take-that-there type. Who knew where we came from or how we’d ended up on the ship? And no one cared. The NPCs’ logic would oblige them to look away, diligently keeping them blind to us.

  “Well this is uncomfortable,” Eunice mumbled, putting on the uniform of a Precian cruise janitor. But there was no other way — we had to look the part to a T. The gray suit fit her snugly, emphasizing my lady’s fine curves. It was a good thing Brainiac had spent three days contemplating the meaning of life. Eunice and I had things to do in the meantime on our deserted planet.

  I placed the ID card to the lock and the door panel slid up. The way into the cruiser’s interior lay open before us.

  “To the right along the corridor, then straight one hundred meters to the elevator. You need deck number three.”

  The cruise ship’s interior turned out to be entirely different from what was the norm aboard cruisers. The corridors were all absurdly wide, there were screens and paintings hanging everywhere, and here and there we even came across aquariums and statues. It felt like instead of being on a space cruiser, we were visiting the country estate of a Precian billionaire. A kind of ostentatious chic that forced the underlings to feel their inferiority and poverty.

  “Watch over us, Brainiac,” I asked the ship’s computer to keep an eye on the video feed and alert me if anything. Approaching the nearest wall, I shamelessly tore off a painting hanging there. Pleased with my chance loot, I turned and stumbled onto Eunice’s look of disapproval. “What? It’s for our family! The enemy doesn’t deserve it. On the black market, they’ll pounce at such an item so fast they’ll tear your hands off in the process!” My wife just shook her head, failing to appreciate the finer points of my pirate’s worldview. I guess stealing loot was shameful in whatever game she used to play. No big deal. She’ll get used to it. She didn’t marry me for nothing.

  “…because, Sir Oleander, you simply had no opportunity …”

  Everything went cold inside me — this voice was perfectly familiar to me. The strange thing was that the cruise’s manifest hadn’t listed this passenger. I cast around, looking for somewhere to hide. If the third adviser of the Precian Emperor sees me here, we’ll be done for on the spot!

  “What is it, Lex?” My wife did not fail to notice my agitation.

  “Stand in front of me. The adviser is here! He doesn’t know you.” I finally found a small nook behind a statue and huddled into it, screening myself with the painting I’d filched for good measure. It didn’t work out very well, but my panicked brain could not come up with another option. Judging by the voices, the adviser was approaching. I peeked through a crack, observing the procession. The adviser was escorting a Precian in shackles. Three armed guards followed behind them.

  “My brother’s policy is mistaken. No good will come of it.” Oleander had a deep voice, the kind that women fancy between the ages of eighteen and infinity. Judging by her narrowed eyes, my wife too was an admirer of baritones.

  “Our empire…” The adviser began to respond — when his gaze strayed across Eunice. She had stepped aside to the wall in order to let the Precians pass, yet still failed to escape the local’s clingy eye.

  “A human?” the adviser said with surprise. One of the guards approached Eunice and I heard the squeak of her ID being scanned. “A cadet of the Precian marine academy. Her name is Nurse…Your name seems familiar to me. Have we met?”

  “No, sir, your lordship.” Eunice bowed curtly, showing deference.

  “Yet I definitely know you from somewhere…”

  “I cannot say, your lordship. After graduating from school, I continued my studies in engineering and found a job with this cruise line. Perhaps you have heard of a design I developed? A stability system for marine mechs. The Hansa Corporation found it interesting enough to give it a closer examination.”

  Eunice lied without hesitation and did it beautifully. It was good luck that she had started out with the Precian Empire. It made our cover story all the more plausible. Naturally cruiser personnel could speak the common tongue, but this would raise questions and attract unnecessary attention. As a former Qualian, for me, the speech of the Precians was a chaotic torrent of strange sounds and only Brainiac interpreting in real time allowed me to understand what was being discussed.

  “Perhaps, perhaps,” the adviser frowned. “Yes, most likely I came across your name in one of the reports. Well, it’s nice to know that such talented warriors are fighting for the Precian Empire. Here, Mr. Oleander, take a look. Is this what you wish to rid us of? Humans are useful allies of our empire.”

  The prisoner did not answer and merely measured Eunice with a scornful look.

  “Come along. The brig awaits. Today the emperor will render his sentence. I am afraid I will miss your poetry.”

  The procession went on its way and I climbed out of my improvised cover. Examining the painting that had so successfully saved me from having to explain myself to the adviser, I threw it in inventory. I won’t sell it. I’ll hang it up in the orbship for good luck.

  Our subsequent journey brought no surprises. The passengers did not notice us. Some of the crew cast us menacing looks, evidently thinking about what they could make us do. To solve this problem, we held tablets in our hands with a warning blinking red on their screens. Coupled with our fast pace and serious mugs, we looked like we were on a very urgent mission. No one bothered us until we reached the elevator, but as soon as we ascended to the third deck, our troubles returned.

  “Halt!” A marine in an armor suit barred our way. “Your ID!”

  We obeyed and held up our plastic cards to the scanner. The scanner flashed green. All clear. But the guard did not back down.

  “Deck three is off limits to junior personnel!”

  “The HVAC in section 37 is busted,” Eunice explained. “Feel free to verify with the custodial ops. Either let us pass or go repair it yourself. The captain won’t be happy when the guests start complaining about their stuffy cabins.”

  The guard pressed a few buttons on his tablet. Brainiac had done his job perfectly and the onboard system indeed reported a malfunction. Nothing so critical as to arouse the interest of senior engineers. A straightforward replacement of some condenser units.

  “Val, escort them!” The guard stepped aside, but another guard immediately replaced him beside us. I sighed with displeasure. This wasn’t part of the plan. And yet, there’s no arguing with a blaster muzzle.

  “Let’s go.” Eunice hurried onward. “We need to finish soon, before the guests return.”

  I must admit that our escort turned out to be useful. We encountered a few more checkpoints, but now the procedure was limited to a perfunctory ID scan. The guards could see our status and though they did not understand why such low-ranked staff had been sent to repair the cabin of a nobleman, they did not hinder us. And if anything, we always had Val’s imposing presence. My hands were constantly itching to pocket a few more expensive goodies, but the presence of a guard protected the cruiser’s decor from my paws. In this manner, we finally reached the door we needed. Under escort, under constant
supervision and without any loot. This last part upset me the most.

  As soon as the entrance door closed behind us, Brainiac said:

  “Captain, there is no one in this area.”

  For poor old Val, this meant one thing only — his clock cycles in Galactogon’s AI stack were about to expire. An EM grenade appeared in my hands — a miniature bomb with the same effect as an EM cannon. Attach one to an armor suit and press a button, and every electronic device in a one-meter radius sizzles and fries. Quite a reliable way to neutralize an unsuspecting space marine encased in an armor suit. Oh the toys you’ll discover when Hilvar gives you permission to trade with the pirates…

  “Can you hear me, Brainiac?” I took a new comm from my inventory. The EM blast knocked out not only Val, but my old comm as well.

  “You’re coming in loud and clear. There is no interference. The Target is currently located in the next cabin. Warning! The Target is not alone.”

  “We can’t wait,” Eunice interfered. “The cruise will enter hyperspace in half an hour.”

  “You’re right. Let’s just deal with it.” I removed a blaster from my inventory. The Precian on the floor twitched, making another attempt to overcome the weight of his armor. Eunice turned away, leaving the matter entirely to me. Leaving a witness behind was not in our rules. There was too much at stake. A shot — and all that remained of the guard was a shimmering crate of raq and elo. My rapport with the Precian Empire did not change because it was already at zero.

  “Let’s go.” I pulled out my manipulators and, unable to resist, tossed another painting from the wall into my inventory. There was just something so unusual about it, so catchy. A complete abstraction, but it was hard to look away. It’ll make a nice gift for Hilvar. He likes that kind of stuff.

  While I was filching the art, the Target came out to meet us voluntarily.

  “What are you doing here? Scram!” I heard a cry of indignation. I suppose there was something to sputter about: Two armed junior engineers were expropriating the local decor as if they were in their own house. How could you not be indignant? My manipulators snapped into action and Duke Narlin, the nephew of the Precian Emperor himself, flew up into the air, flailing his arms comically. A quick shot of sedative and he calmed down and went limp. I carefully placed the valuable little body in a chair and pointed Eunice to the door. Our unexpected guest was on the other side and it was time to get rid of him.

  “Surgeon?” another voice exclaimed. The guest had come to us himself, having heard Narlin’s outburst. Eunice raised her blaster, about to send the stranger to the other side, and I barely managed to shove her elbow, sending a plasma bolt at the wall. I was all too familiar with the newcomer.

  “What are you doing on this ship? You’re an outlaw! If you wanted to meet with me, you should have simply called…I must say that our past business turned out to be quite profitable for me!”

  I did not allow my wife to shoot Grandar, the former junior adviser to the deputy weeding assistant to the gardener of the Third Palace of his Imperial Highness, the Emperor of the Precian Empire. Back in the day he had done me a huge favor — he had gone to the emperor and passed on information from me. Later I had asked the emperor to show his favor to this Precian who was able to help me in difficult times. But I could not even imagine that Grandar would rise so swiftly in the ranks. The bands on his robes suggested that I was looking at an intimate of the emperor. An imperial favorite who carried his master’s blessing and all that jazz. Basically, he was now a bigwig who had been at the right time and place to help me. I could hardly allow Eunice to shoot him. Not at all, in fact.

  “I have some business with the duke,” I replied.

  “What business can a pirate have with a member of the imperial family? I should call security, but…my intuition tells me to hold off. I must admit I am confused. Help me, Surgeon. Explain what you are doing here.”

  “I need to get onto Zalva, the imperial capital. It’s nothing criminal, I assure you,” I answered honestly, causing Eunice to scoff. She did not like improvisation.

  “What does Narlin have to do with it? He will not help you.” Grandar closely examined me and the sleeping duke. “He is only the tenth in line to the throne!”

  “I have every reason to believe that it is for this reason that he will help us.” I had to act quickly, so I decided to share my plans with Grandar. It was not for nothing that he had appeared in this room. You don’t just encounter locals randomly along your way. Everything has its reasons. And anyway, I can kill him at any time if something goes wrong.

  “Trade fraud?!” Grandar exclaimed when I showed him the data I had. I finally managed to use the compromising evidence I’d found on the viceroy’s tablet. Vargen had told me that the deceased Precian was about to be honored as a hero who had traded his life for that of Lumara, the uncrowned empress of the fallen Delvian Empire.

  My plan was embarrassingly simple. If the quest for the check was on again, we would have to start from the point we’d left off our earlier journey. In my case, I had to find my way into the ship of Rrgord, the Precian prince, and get the coordinates of the seven planets he had discovered. One of them should contain my final prize. I found the weakest link in the list, found out when the duke would take a cruise and then arranged an operation that would force the Precian to take us to Zalva. The only problem now was this Grandar, who could spoil all our plans.

  “I am loath to upset you, but Narlin will not agree,” the Precian said to my chagrin. “His duty to the empire has always been dearer to him than his own life. The compromising material you have will merely push him back from tenth to like twentieth in the line of succession, and even that is not a fact. The emperor might even praise him for his resourcefulness. After all, these are mere financial machinations, not actual treason. The duke tried to increase his wealth. What member of the imperial family does not seek to do the same?”

  “How much do you want?” Eunice suddenly asked.

  “Have we met?” Grandar walked up to my wife with evident interest, as if he had just noticed her presence. I was forced to introduce her.

  “Surgeon here once helped me out a little,” the Precian deigned to explain himself. “I think I owe him a favor and we can be useful to each other. For a modest two billion, I will take you to Zalva. However! The ticket is one way. You will have to arrange the return leg on your own.”

  “Deal!” I didn’t bother haggling and shook the Precian’s hand. It didn’t really matter to us who would take us there as long as we made it.

  “You will need to dispose of this one,” Grandar pointed at the duke casually. “If he wakes up, he will ruin all our plans. Narlin is bound to the planetary spirit, so killing him won’t do. I imagine a sojourn on some distant backwater should do the trick. Can you do it, or will you need help?”

  I looked over at Narlin sprawled out on the deck floor. I doubt we’d manage to drag him to the other end of the ship without getting noticed.

  “I see. Right, don’t overexert yourself. I see no problem in helping a partner.” Grandar called some servants and ordered them to bring a container for food waste with them. “When do you expect this body to wake up?”

  ‘Partner.’ ‘Body.’ How deftly Grandar had learned to play with words and change his shoes on the go! After all, he had been with Narlin for a reason and had most likely wanted something from the duke. Yet seeing a chance to make some extra money, this Precian had immediately scrapped whatever plans he’d just had. He would surely go far. It was clear to me now how Grandar had risen so high in the ranks of court.

  “Without the antidote, he should sleep for a few days.”

  “Excellent. I must say, I like how you do business. I imagine we can be helpful to each other. Where shall I send the container?”

  At that moment, two Precians ran into the room. Grandar pointed at the duke, and without any further formalities or fanfare, the servants stuffed him into a small crate they had brought.

>   “Put the container in the back room and wait for Surgeon to appear,” Grandar ordered. “Now get to it!”