I slumped down onto the hatch and exhaled. That was way too damned close… No one answered. I’d gotten used to Sami answering my thoughts.
“Silvers, huh? Damn, Bishop… You’re an idiot for coming back here.” I looked up to see my friend Andy Charles admiring the Gilmore. His graying hair was ear-length and crow’s feet adorned his eyes from decades of smiling. “Wasn’t this ship in the recycling ward a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah, probably. I got her patched up now so she actually flies mostly in a straight line.” I stood and shook hands with my long-time friend. “What’s the word on things?” I asked.
Andy laughed. “Things are chaotic as shit. Whatever business the three of you are mixed up in must be pretty dirty.” He shook his head but grinned. “Reminds me of the good ol’ days.”
“The good old days?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry about that for now.” Andy pulled an orange hat and jacket from his utility pack. “Here, put these on. Will help you blend in.”
“Why are you getting involved?”
“Well,” he said as he looked me over, nodding with approval. “Steve called me. Told me the gist what was happening. Also told me to send his disapproval of your decisions. Included a few choice words too, but I can’t be bothered to recollect them… Old age and all, ya know?” He chuckled. “Anyhow, can’t sit idly by while you young’uns have all the adventures. Besides, someone’s gotta help clear your name.”
I looked at myself in the reflection of the Gilmore’s canopy window. “I look like a maintenance worker.”
“Exactly. You’ll blend right in. Now, what do you need?”
“As much time as possible networked to the ship. And supplies to keep the Gilmore in one piece. I’m completely out of synapse cable and just about out of power junction segments.”
Andy followed me back into the Gilmore. “You took the tanks out of the Strider?”
“Yeah, was the quickest way to get aboard the colony ship.”
“Risky, but it should pay off pretty well.”
“Sami,” I said.
“Yes?” answered the comms console.
“Anything specific that would be useful to buy?”
“Now that you mention it, a processing module would be most helpful. And make sure it has enough storage to handle my overwhelming mental capacity.”
Andy raised an eyebrow. I shook my head, dismissing him.
“Anything else, Your Magnificence?”
“Not at the moment, my loyal subject. Appease your king and you shall be rewarded.”
I scoffed. “Please…”
Andy laughed. “Whoever that is has got some attitude. I like him.”
“Thank you,” said Sami.
“All right, enough. Both of you.” I turned to Andy. “You think the water will be enough for everything?”
“Should pay for everything and have a little bit left over. Let’s get moving before the guards come checking on you again...”
“Thirty-five hundred credits,” said the quartermaster. I frowned. “Sorry kid, but funds are low. Best we can do right now.”
Andy put his hand on my shoulder. “They are pretty desperate, Nate. That water could help a lot of people…”
“I’ll need my ship refueled and recharged. I’d also like a current copy of the contracts and requisitions sent over as well. I don’t mind paying for them, but I walk if the answer is no.”
He thought hard for a moment. “Pretty demanding for a greenhorn…” He scratched at his stubble. “If you take off five hundred credits to pay for all that, I could make it happen.”
I set my expression hard, looking the quartermaster in the eye. “Deal.” He made some adjustments at his terminal and handed me a chip. We shook hands.
He nodded and leaned forward, lowering his voice to a murmur. “The jacket and cap help, but stay out of sight, Bishop. If I recognized you, others might too.” I thanked him for his discretion and turned to walk away.
“Hey, uh, Nate? Was it?” he called, loud enough to be heard by others.
“Yeah?”
“Nice doing business with you, kid. This water will help a lot of needy folk.”
I smiled and waved.
Andy leaned over to me. “It’s a good thing people like you. That could have been bad.”
“The quartermaster was the hardest hurdle to get over.”
“Fair enough. What’s next?”
“I need to go shopping.”
We headed for the market area in search of supplies. I picked up several lengths of synapse cabling from the first shop.
“We’ll need to head to another shop for the power conduit,” said Andy. “It’s been a lot harder to come by lately.”
“Do you know which shop?”
“Yep. Where do you think Steve always got his parts from?” Andy chuckled. “I know most of the shopkeepers. And what they sell.” He looked around conspiratorially. “And what they really sell…”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.”
At the next shop, I bought several segments of power conduit. With a nod from Andy, the shopkeeper pulled the blinds and turned off the open indicator. He took us into the back room where another display case of equipment showcased all manner of hardware.
“Anything, in particular, you’re looking for, good sir?”
“I need a processor module with a decent amount of storage.”
The shopkeeper opened the display case and pulled out a small case. “This will meet your needs,” she said.
“How much?”
“Three thousand,” she said flatly. Andy cleared his throat lightly. “But...for you…I’ll cut you a deal.” She chuckled. “I could let it go for seven hundred.”
“Done.” I handed her my chip and she deducted the balance.
“I hope you’ll put this to…good use.”
Andy grinned. “I’m positive he will.”
The shopkeeper smiled and escorted us out.
“Well, that was weird,” I said. “Did you just cash in a favor or something?”
Andy frowned. “You spent most of your life flying on the Strider with your parents, right?”
“Yeah?” I asked. “Why?”
“There’s something I wanna show you…”
“What is it?”
“Easier to see than to explain. Let’s take a walk.”
We traveled for what seemed like hours through corridors I’d never seen before. The farther we went, the dirtier and grimier things seemed. Grease and other chemicals, which bewildered my senses, caked the walls. Trash and debris were piled along the walls of the hallway against bulkheads.
“Don’t the recyclers work down here?”
“Nope. They haven’t for about fifty years.”
“Why doesn’t someone fix them?”
“People have tried. Gangs come around and destroy anything that starts working.”
“This sounds just like the pirates…”
“The same group, actually. I’m sure Steve has mentioned the government’s grip on the people.”
“Yeah, we’ve talked at length about it.”
As we entered a large cargo hold, Andy swept his arm in a broad motion. “Welcome to the slums, kid.”
I looked around and gasped. Makeshift housing had been haphazardly tossed together. Multi-story shacks, reaching for the ceiling, were barely held together by pieces of cable and paneling. What few people roamed about were badly dressed in rags, and I could see their rib cages beneath their tattered garments.
“Andy, what the hell is this?”
“You were lucky enough that your parents isolated you from the ugly truth. This is the sum of the pieces when you need total control over a populace without having the support of the people. You manufacture it. Destroy education. Destroy family. Create a need. Then be the only one handing out food. Total control. These people will never fight back.”
“I never knew… How can anyone
even live like this?”
“You’re looking at it, Bishop. This is what Steve’s fighting for. What we’re fighting for.”
My pulse pounded in my ears and my vision started to turn red. I leaned against the wall for support. “Andy,” I said between heaving breaths. “What did Steve’s sister find?”
“Proof. Video logs. Pay ledgers. Everything the resistance could possibly need to topple the command structure and free the people.”
“Resistance?” I asked. “What resistance? No one here is resisting anything.”
“So it would seem. But, the slums stretch for kilometers. Ten thousand unfortunate souls live in the slums.”
“Ten. Thousand. Live, like this…” My hands began to shake. Rage filled my body.
“Now you’re getting it.”
“How many are fighting back?”
Andy hesitated. “I won’t confirm an exact number. But hundreds.”
I turned to Andy and looked him dead in the eyes. “What do you need from me?”
“Find the proof. Elyssa left clues throughout the ship network for Steve to find. They killed her before she could tell anyone where she stashed the data.”
“Why me?”
“Steve told me about your A.I. The two of you are probably the only ones who can piece together the puzzle that she left us. It would also clear your names.”
I thought about it for a few brief moments. This is what I need to help us. And these people. “Count me in.” I turned to head back to the docking bay.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my ship. I have work to do.”
19
The Gilmore lifted off the landing pad with ease. I pulled the levers to the side and turned the ship to leave. I didn’t wait until I was clear to hit maximum thrust. The ship blasted out into open space away from the lunar surface.
“Damn it, Sami, I never knew how bad it was,” I shouted, slamming my fist against the console. “Those people in the slums are living like animals.”
“What will you do about it?”
I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Continue on with the original plan, I suppose. The outcome helps everyone. Including those people in the slums. We can’t let the government control the people like they are.”
“An agreeable course of action. Might I suggest you fly away from the moon for a while? Let them track you performing normal activities. Perhaps head in the direction of the wreckage fields?”
“That place is a graveyard. Why there?”
“You being a greenhorn, as you were referred to, don’t have a lot of resources. A place like the fields would be an understandable location to head to salvage components.”
“I forgot you could listen in on conversations outside the ship.”
“The external sensors are not of the greatest caliber, but they can detect the most minute of sounds. I overheard your conversation with the quartermaster loud and clear.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense. So, I’m basically filling an expectation of being a greenhorn with no money?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“Okay. We’ll have to be careful out there. Any stray debris could tear the Gilmore in half.”
“Or smash us to atoms. Depending on what you hit…”
“How…comforting…”
“If I could smile, I would.”
“I figured. Dick.” No response. He’s enjoying this way too much. “You think there’ll be anything useful in the fields?”
“Perhaps. If we are lucky. It’s been several decades since I last visited. And my former ship had a much more sophisticated sensor array than… this.”
“Who knows, maybe we’ll find a sensor upgrade in the fields.”
“Unlikely anything that would be compatible with this archaic system. But, one can hope.”
“So, what was the processing unit for anyhow?”
“I plan to copy a subset of my programming to it. Then, at some point, you will connect it to the colonial network. That will allow me to have more control over their systems.”
“So basically, you’re cloning yourself?”
“In primitive terms, I suppose so. Realistically, I’m installing many programs which will assist in taking over and maintaining control of the main control systems which operate the ship. I will use the communications link to issue commands to it. Think of it as a remote drone, if it helps your primitive mind take in its usefulness.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
Debris pinged off the Gilmore’s front-facing window. I pulled back on the thrust controls and cut our speed to one-third. “How will we find anything in all this? It’s literally a junkyard of broken ships.”
“You will fly around, and I’ll analyze the sensor data as it becomes available. Eventually, we will find something worth acquiring. And, the real purpose of our visit, it will buy us time to be observed acting in the manner which you are expected to.”
“All right, I guess we’ll just fly around and try not to die.”
“Exactly.”
“So much help…”
“I do try.”
“Bishop, cut engines and drift to port about ten degrees.”
I did as I was asked. “What am I looking for?”
“You’ll see. I believe you will be quite excited by my findings.”
“I’ll be the judge of th—holy shit…”
“Agreed.”
In front of us floated the carcass of an older mining ship. A real mining ship. And attached to the bottom was one of the largest mining lasers I’d seen in a while. It looked like there had been several, but they’d been destroyed.
“This one made it. Somehow…”
“I do believe this is where you take a step outside.”
I was halfway out of my harness and latching my helmet onto my suit. I applied some more patch tape to my chest. Just in case. “Remind me to replace this suit. I don’t know how much I trust this patch job.”
“Noted. Do hurry before we are discovered.”
“On my way.” The suit pressurized, and all the indicators flashed green. “Radio check?”
“Loud and clear,” responded Sami through the helmet’s comms unit
“All right, I’ll grab my tools and go get us a new toy.”
Sami depressurized the ship and opened the hatch. I stood in the doorway, the old mining ship meters from me. A light hop and I floated across the gap. The laser was even larger up close. It was mounted by four large bulkhead fasteners. They were as big around as my wrist.
“How are we going to attach this to the Gilmore?”
“Likely, you will need to weld it. Thankfully, it does not need to be pretty, only functional.”
“Understood.”
I removed the bulkhead fasteners with a large impact wrench. I had to use the magnetic braces to fasten the wrench to the hull as the bolts were secured with so much torque that it would fling me away from the hull.
It took nearly twenty minutes to remove the fasteners and the wire harness. A tug on the laser and it floated freely from the hull it had been connected to. I gave it a nudge toward the Gilmore. It began to float away. I cut the harness connector off the derelict ship and placed it in my toolbox along with the impact wrench. Then I pushed off myself.
I made it back to the Gilmore just before the mining laser. Thankfully, everything weighed a lot less without gravity getting in the way. The laser slowed as I pushed against it. Carefully, I guided it to the hull of my ship and lined it up where I thought it should be.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Move it forward ten centimeters.”
I made the adjustments and then used magnetic clamps to hold it against the hull. “I wish there were mounting points. I hate bulkhead welding…”
“Less complaining, more welding. I am detecting radio transmissions from space aimed toward our general vicinity.”
“Expecting company?” I asked as I
broke out the welding equipment and connected it to the ship’s power supply.
“Always. It’s only a matter of time before someone either comes to check on us or comes to raid us. Call it an unwritten rule, if you wish.”
That didn’t make me feel better. I spent the next thirty minutes welding the mining laser’s feet to the upper bulkhead on the Gilmore. The wiring was actually quite simple in comparison. Three power connectors and a data cable later, it was ready for a test.
I headed back inside the ship and pressurized the cabin before removing my helmet. “I really hope this works. The wiring was too simple, and it doesn’t have an external port to dump the ore.”
“The most efficient things in existence usually are. Do not doubt it’s ability for having been designed properly.”
“I suppose not. Hopefully, I can adapt some sort of connection to the main tanks later on. The cargo canister on it can hold quite a bit, but I’d prefer a larger capacity.”
“Things to consider later on. For now, you have a test to complete.”
“Okay, here we go. Let’s hope we don’t blow out a power conduit or something…”
I targeted the nearest hunk of debris which somewhat resembled the husk of a long-dead ship. The Gilmore’s lights dimmed momentarily. Then the hum of the mining laser filled the cabin. The beam cut through the ship’s outer armor like a scalpel. I watched with pride as the glowing blue bits of molten reactor fuel drifted up the beam. I swung the beam around and nearly cut the husk in half.
“That has some major potential as a weapon. I am impressed,” said Sami.
“This is what I did with the drones.”
“It is an effective strategy.”
“And we get fuel,” I added.
“Bishop, I’m detecting movement in the debris field. It would be prudent for us to leave sooner than later.”
I caught a glimmer of engine glow off in the distance. “I see them. Yeah, I don’t want to fight anyone just yet.” I flipped the Gilmore around and pushed the engines to their maximum setting. The ship lurched forward. We weaved around hunks of ships trying to put distance between us.
“They are no longer flying randomly.”
“Straight for us?”
Bishop's Gambit Omnibus Page 10
