Asymmetry

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Asymmetry Page 17

by A. G. Claymore


  Jacubus scuttled out of the way and the scout-ship settled with a series of thumps as the three landing points hit the pad. The engine whine ramped down and died out. Random, dissipating waves of gravity shimmered the air around their cockpit windows as the occupants unbuckled.

  “I’ll stay here and watch the ship,” Thorstein offered. He grinned at Tim’s surprised expression. “Wondering why the new guy gets to go off and have all the fun while a legendary warrior like myself has to sit here?

  “Half the reason for fostering you out to Rick, here, is so you learn not to be nervous around him. With a father like Barry Fletcher, you won’t be spending your life in some obscure role. You need to be comfortable around Midgaard lords.”

  He pointed at Rick. “Watching him screw up is a good start. Take special note of how he misses cultural cues and nearly gets you both killed.”

  Rick grabbed a hand-bar above his head and pulled himself out of his seat. “You got your knife?” he asked the young man.

  “Umm… yeah?”

  “Good!” Rick winked at Thorstein. “’Cause I don’t see us getting out of this system unless we’ve got that guy’s head with us.” He headed aft.

  Tim turned a dubious look at Thorstein but the engineer shrugged. “Don’t worry, kid. Even when he screws up, he manages to turn it into some kind of crazy bullshit advantage. It’s probably the precog advantage you guys have, or he has his own personal hamingja…”

  They lowered the cargo deck into air that carried a sweet pungency of spices, food, wet trash and hydraulics. Much of it was familiar but there were enough differences to remind the two that this was a new world to them.

  Jacubus stepped forward, all smiles. “Welcome to Krattus, home-world of the Dominion.”

  “Thanks, Jacubus,” Rick said, noting the lack of hand gestures and keeping his own arms to the side. How’s that for noticing cultural cues, Thor? “I’m Rick and this is Tim.”

  Jacubus inclined his head politely, pressing his right hand to his heart… probably. “A pleasure!” he assured them. He gestured to the far side of the landing pad.

  “The best tea in the Dominion,” he declared, “just over there!”

  They started along the central walkway, a raised catwalk that kept them above the worst of the grav-bleed from the ships coming and going. A medium-sized shuttle eased into a spot on their left. The random fluctuations sent shivers through their bodies, felt most acutely in the groin and legs.

  “Am I right in assuming that you’ve come from the outside worlds?” Jacubus asked over his shoulder. “You did come from the Jelmang gate and that almost never happens.” He flashed a mischievous grin.

  “And you don’t seem like the usual kind of asshole that calls Jelmang home, so I’m guessing that you entered the network at their system and had the good sense to avoid getting entangled.”

  “Am I right in assuming that there is a special reason you’re interested in outsiders?” Rick asked as they came to the end of the walkway.

  They had to wait for a break in surface traffic. A steady flow of vehicles, mostly automated, streamed past between them and the tea-house.

  “There’s always a reason for smugglers to be interested in outsiders,” Jacubus replied. He darted into the flow, jumping back and forth until he’d worked his way through.

  He made it look dangerous but still barely doable.

  Rick settled his mind and concentrated. He started moving, varying his speed only slightly, for the most part, though he did have to put on a single burst of speed near the middle. He ignored several near misses, not even deigning to look at the vehicles that he knew wouldn’t hit him.

  He’d made it look easy.

  Tim soon joined them on the sidewalk, having made a similarly casual passage. “So you see the potential for a business relationship?” the younger man asked.

  Jacubus gazed at the two men, a calculating half-smile on his face. “I think there’s definite potential, yes.”

  He waved them inside the tea-house and led them to a table near the back. He held up a hand, thumb and two fingers extended, until a server noticed and gave him a wave.

  “I hadn’t expected you to know about the outside worlds,” Tim admitted.

  “Perhaps because you’re new here?” Jacubus suggested. “Think about it from my perspective,” he added.

  Tim frowned but his face quickly took on the universal expression common to those who’ve just realized what should have been obvious all along. “Your worlds are hidden,” he said, “not ours.” He laughed ruefully. “Of course you know about us!”

  A waiter set three large mugs in front of them.

  Rick could hear the squealing from inside and, though he knew what he would see when he looked, he looked anyway. Each mug held a small round cage and each cage held what looked like a dozen or so small scorpion-like insects.

  “Their venom is instantly fatal,” Jacubus told them. “It releases when the hot water hits their bodies and the high temperature denatures it, assuming the water is hot enough, of course.”

  “I assume there are a few fatalities associated with this tea?” Rick asked.

  The waiter poured the steaming water and there was a sudden cacophony of rattling carapaces and loud squeals.

  “They’re not actually screaming,” Jacubus assured them. “The sound is steam escaping from inside their shells as their tissues reach the boiling point.”

  “How reassuring,” Tim said flatly.

  “You’re right about the fatalities,” their host admitted. “It’s not for the faint of heart.” He nodded his thanks at the waiter as he hooked out the little cages.

  “It’s a fine line,” he explained, “between getting the most denatured venom and ending up with a mug filled with boiled bug guts. A heartbeat too long and the membranes at the joints dissolve.”

  Rick figured this was some kind of test. See if the new guy can stomach a potentially fatal bug tea. He had no way of knowing that he was dealing with two experienced jungle-hands from 3428. Rick had personally seen Tim eat live insects on hunting expeditions.

  “If you get a bad mug of tea, how long does it take to kill you?” he asked. He pulled the mug close and turned it so the handle faced him.

  “Less than five seconds!” The smuggler grinned evilly.

  Rick looked down at the steaming beverage. No worries, then! He picked it up and took a sip. It was still hotter than he was used to and it burned the roof of his mouth. “Whew! That’s still a bit too hot for me!” He sucked in a breath to cool the damaged tissues.

  He focused suddenly on Jacubus. “It’s been more than five seconds, right?” He shifted his chin to the side, raising his eyebrows. “I’d hate for that to have been my last words!”

  “Nah!” Tim countered. “I figure your last words are going to be something more like ‘Hey, what the hell is that?’. Something that’ll make a really interesting story at your pyre.”

  “Hopefully.” Rick took another sip. Either the heat had dropped to bearable levels or he’d damaged the nerve endings in that first scalding sip. He made an appreciative noise. “You know, that’s not bad at all!”

  He smiled conspiratorially at Jacubus just before Tim nearly spit out his first sip. “A little bitter, though,” he added. He was deliberately not mentioning the reason for their meeting, knowing it was to his advantage if the smuggler made the overture.

  He didn’t have to wait long. This Jacubus was a direct sort of fellow. Not at all surprising in a smuggler.

  “Look,” he said, without preamble, “you can probably think of things in the Republic that you’d like brought into the Alliance and vice-versa.” He leaned forward and jabbed his thumb at his own chest. “I’m your man.

  “You can go blundering around in the Bled half-blind or you can meet up with me and get guaranteed delivery every single time.” Jacubus sat back. “Now, that ship of yours, we’ve seen them sneaking into fringe Republic systems, dropping supplies and weapons. You’
re helping the rebels.” He spread his hands out. “I happen to think they’re stalwart freedom-fighters who deserve all the help we can give them.”

  Rick took a bigger sip. The bitterness was growing on him. “I think they’re an effective and distracting thorn in the Republic’s side,” he said calmly, “and you think they represent a lucrative opportunity.”

  “There is also that,” Jacubus agreed. “Dominion security forces make it difficult to find contacts for such opportunities, as I’m sure you understand. Few insiders show any interest in the outside but those who do are… actively discouraged. The Dominion doesn’t want any outside attention.

  “Frankly, the chances of finding the right people to do business with out there are slim and nobody would believe there’s a whole network of hidden systems here anyway.” He pointed at Rick.

  “But you believe,” he said. “You’re here so you can’t help but believe. I saw your scouting vessel fly past and knew it was an opportunity straight from the divines themselves!”

  “I’ll admit, I’m interested,” Rick told him. “Only a fool would fail to see the opportunities you represent but how do you get access to the outside without drawing attention from local enforcement?”

  “Not all of our old frontier systems are accessible anymore… officially…”

  “Very cryptic,” Rick assured him. “Dramatic delivery, pregnant pause… well done! Now…” He leaned in. “What does it mean?”

  “Some of the wormholes have drifted; some have failed entirely.” Jacubus raised an eyebrow. “Some have ‘broken loose’ at one end but they’re still mostly viable.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Every good smuggling family has a collection of wormholes that only they know about. We fight, sometimes, when more than one family knows about the same one but we mostly respect each other’s territory.

  “Holes that have come adrift and found a new focus, holes that don’t appear in the records…”

  “You got one that can get us close to Rykeria?”

  “Rykeria?” Jacubus stuck his tongue into his cheek, thinking. “I can get you close,” he assured them. “A day and a half at full pitch for my ship, though I think yours is faster.”

  Tim was focused on a point above the middle of the table. “Malos?” he asked.

  The smuggler sat up straight, his hand reaching toward the grip of his pistol, eyes dark, nostrils flaring. “How did you get this information?” he demanded.

  “We came by it honestly,” Rick said, then shrugged. “Honestly from your perspective, that is. We stole it from Jelmang.”

  “Those bumpkins knew about Malos?”

  “‘Know’ is a strong word,” Tim said. “They had the information but they’re an insular society. The ancient navigational database was locked and they mostly treat stories of the other worlds in your network as fantasy or legends.”

  “Gestures of good faith,” Rick suggested. “You get us out through Malos and we give you a copy of the data we stole from Jelmang.”

  “And how do I know you won’t just run off without handing me the data?”

  “Because I see the value in having a contact in the network,” Rick said. “And to prove that I see the potential for mutual benefit, we’ll hand over the data now.”

  “We’d have to go to his ship,” Tim said. “No implant.”

  “You have implants?” Jacubus asked, clearly impressed, but there was also a calculating look in the corners of his expression.

  Rick probed him with unasked questions. “No,” he told him. “You can’t remove them without destroying the CPU but I could get my hands on some new ones if you feel there’s a market for them.”

  He hoisted his mug toward the startled smuggler. “There, you see? Our mutual trust is already being rewarded with exciting new ventures!” He drained his tea and slammed the mug down.

  “Let’s get to your ship and you can see if there’s value in the data we have for you.”

  They walked back out into the constantly settling dust of the landing yard and Jacubus led them over to his ship. It was roughly four times the size of the scout-ship, ten meters in width and forty in length.

  They entered by a ladder that folded down from the port side and the smuggler led them inside, turning to port where the bridge was located. “My sister, Mieke,” he introduced them to the young woman who sat in the command chair “Mieke, this is Rick and Tim, and you owe me two hundred credits. They are outsiders!”

  “My brother wins one bet out of fifty,” Mieke said, getting up from her seat to greet the guests, “and now he won’t shut up about it for months!” She inclined her head politely. “Welcome aboard!”

  “They represent many exciting opportunities that we’ll have to hide from Uri,” he told her. “At the moment, they say they have nav-data that may prove useful to us.”

  “May I?” Tim gestured to the center console.

  “By all means,” Jacubus offered before his sister could interject.

  Tim’s focus glazed over as he queried the ship’s computer capabilities.

  Mieke stepped around to Tim’s front, her mouth hanging half open, eyes riveted.

  “They have implants,” Jacubus whispered as though afraid to break his guest’s concentration. “We might be able to set up a trade for them…” He trailed off as a fuzzy blue hologram sprang up between the siblings and their visitors.

  “That was protected by a series of passwords,” Mieke exclaimed, “not to mention an iris-scan!”

  “Those irises of yours might be irreplaceable,” Tim muttered distractedly, “but it’s not hard to convince your computer that it’s seeing them.”

  “Did they say how much they’d want for those implants?” she asked her brother in a half-volume voice.

  “Not yet,” Jacubus admitted, “but you have to admit they’re showing well so far!”

  “This represents the commonly known systems in the public database,” Tim said, lowering the luminosity of the shown worlds as a new, smaller batch appeared. “These seventeen systems correspond to entries in our recently acquired data but appear to be known only to your family.”

  Again, there was consternation at the unveiling of a closely guarded family secret. Mieke reached behind her back and pulled out a short, sharp-looking blade with a T handle but Jacubus put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

  “Wait, sister,” he urged. “Let’s see if they have anything beyond this.”

  “You fool!” she hissed quietly, though the two Humans were standing no more than three meters away. “They’re stealing our secrets and using them to string us along long enough to…”

  She lowered the knife as the secret systems faded to three-quarters luminance and a new batch appeared at full brightness. It filled in the gaps in the phenomenon known as the Great Bled.

  It was at least eight times the size of the currently-known systems in the Dominion Network.

  “This should expand the scope of our mutually beneficial operations, don’t you think?” Rick asked them.

  “Who would have thought those idiots at Jelmang would have anything worth taking?” Jacubus said in a tone of wonder. He finally met Rick’s gaze.

  “You’ve carried out your gesture of good faith,” he admitted, “now it’s time to get you to your destination.” He drifted back to the new systems in his map.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Rick asked him. “Bribe another security officer?”

  “Pretty much,” Jacubus said, “unless you happen to have an exit permit.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow at his protégé.

  Tim’s eyes darted back and forth, his hands fluttering through the air in front of himself. After a few moments, he nodded with satisfaction. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

  Jacubus finally tore his attention away from the wealth of data his family now owned. “You can do that with your implant?”

  “Sure.” Tim barely glanced at the smuggler. “Their systems aren’t any harder to crack th
an your ship. What are we looking for, a pre-paid export pass, an emergency relief-work visa, a closed work order from a Dominion Consul…”

  “Ohh!” Jacubus’ face lit up. “I like that one! It’s essentially permission to go anywhere. No officer who values his future would open a closed order from one of the consuls!”

  “It would be nice to jump the line and refuse to pay bribes,” Mieke admitted. “Can you actually do this? I mean, without us getting found out eventually and killed?”

  “It’s real enough,” Tim assured her, paying more attention to Mieke than he did her brother, “as far as the system is concerned. From the records, I see very few of these closed orders that have any particular consul’s name connected in any way. Each of the seven would simply assume that this was generated by one of their rivals.”

  “One of those for both of us, Tim,” Rick decided. He caught Jacubus’ eye. “So we just show up at a portal with these passes and pop through?”

  “Not quite so easy. The system we want is a dead one, the link was broken thousands of years ago. A battle near their entry into the network caused this end of the link to come unglued, for lack of a better description.”

  “Good to know!” Tim put in. “That’s not in the data we found. We’d have looked pretty silly, trying to enter a portal that isn’t there.”

  “A dangerous thing to do,” Jacubus said. “I’ve heard of ships torn apart trying to do just that.”

  “Then how do we get to Malos?” Rick asked.

  “We think Malos was once part of a circular trade route,” Mieke explained. “It’s one of the few worlds that have multiple links. We can take the portal to Midian, another dead system, and then move on to Malos using the link between the two.”

  “Ah,” Tim nodded. “I see the links.” He looked at Mieke, trying not to linger on her slightly unruly mane of black hair. “Why bother coming with us?” he asked her. “Now that we know the way and we can generate our own authorization, I’m sure we could easily find our way out.”

  “Not on your life!” she said, grinning. “Literally. Who knows what you might run into before you get out? This data…” She waved at the systems on the holo. “…This is the kind of thing a business empire is built from. Divines, my descendants might even end up ruling over the Dominion!”

 

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