Free Stories 2015

by Baen Books

  Ember of the Past

  by Mike Kupari

  Red Heaven Space Habitat

  Hades Orbit

  Folsom 4101-B Star System

  “Quite a view, isn’t it?” Captain Catherine Blackwood asked. She was sitting with her first officer, Wolfram von Spandau, in a nice restaurant on the top floor of the Hotel Orbital. The hotel was a cylindrical building, twenty stories high, with a transparent, domed ceiling. The interior of the Red Heaven space habitat circled around and high above her. A cylinder a dozen kilometers long and three in diameter, rotating to simulate gravity, Red Heaven was home to one and a half million residents, and was the only settlement in a very lonely solar system.

  Wolfram grunted and sipped his drink. “It is, Kapitänin. I have never seen anything like it.” The interior of Red Heaven was divided into six equal-area sections, running down the habitat’s longitudinal axis. Three of the sections were the station’s habitable land area, covered with layers of soil, roads, buildings, and trees. The other three were transparent windows, which allowed sunlight to be reflected in from giant mirrors outside the station. Clouds swirled overhead, looping around the interior of the station.

  Red Heaven got its name from Hades, the massive red gas giant it orbited. Circling around Folsom 4101-B at one and a half astronomical units, Hades’ upper atmosphere was rich in hydrogen, helium, and other gasses ships used as reaction mass. Strategically located along a major trade route between the heart of the Concordiat and the Frontier, Red Heaven had been a major transit hub since its construction at the end of the Second Interstellar War, over a hundred standard years prior.

  Mazer Broadbent, Catherine’s security officer, seemed a little unsettled by the view. “It certainly makes one feel small,” he said, before popping another stuffed bell pepper into his mouth. Far above them, through one of the habitat’s three expansive windows, the imposing, blood-red mass of Hades was visible, looming over the tiny human settlement like an angry god. A swirling storm, known to locals as The Maw, was clearly visible. Tens of thousands of kilometers in diameter, the storm had been raging since before humankind had ever entered the Folsom 4101-B system, and it showed no signs of slowing down.

  It was late afternoon by the habitat’s internal clock, and the restaurant hadn’t yet been hit by its dinner rush. Most of the tables were empty, giving the three spacers some privacy as they talked. Off to the side of the room, in front of a two-meter-tall artificial waterfall, a boxy robot with two articulated arms expertly played a beautiful grand piano. A server robot would occasionally roll up and ask Catherine’s party if they were ready to order, but the spacers declined. They were waiting for their host, and Catherine thought it would be rude to dine without him.

  Even if he was late.

  “I do not like this,” Wolfram said, as if reading his captain’s mind. “Our contact should have been here forty minutes ago.”

  Catherine nodded and sipped her wine. “It is rude, yes, but for the amount of money he seems to want to throw at us, we can wait a while longer.” The captain had long since learned that, in her business, it was best to work with your clients to the maximum extent possible, even if it was occasionally inconvenient. They were often very grateful of such gestures, and often expressed that gratitude with money or referrals.

  Wolfram looked at the transparent eyepiece he wore over his left eye when his handheld chirped. “Kapitänin, it is a message from our client. He apologizes for his tardiness and is coming up the lift now.”

  “Very good,” Catherine said. “Let’s see what all the fuss is about, shall we?”

  Red Heaven was an independent colony that had, ever since its construction, steadfastly refused to join the Interstellar Concordiat. Its establishment had been financed by the ultra-wealthy Zheng family, who then set themselves up as hereditary rulers. Citizenship in the colony was difficult to achieve; one had to be at least third-generation born, and as such a significant portion of the colony’s population lacked citizenship. Those who were citizens enjoyed generous benefits, including lifelong medical care and upgraded housing, paid for by the revenue generated by extracting resources from the gas giant. The population was strictly regulated, however, and having children was not a right.

  Despite its opulent wealth, Red Heaven lacked a military and had little in the way of defenses. Such a wealthy and isolated colony would be a tempting target for pirates, so the colonial authorities contracted their defense out to privateer ships. Catherine’s ship, the Andromeda, had been a last minute, short-term fill-in for another ship that suffered a reactor problem and was being repaired in space dock. For the last 1800 hours, the Andromeda had been patrolling the Folsom 4101-B system with a mismatched fleet of other privateers, inspecting traffic coming through the system’s four transit points and standing ready to provide aid to ships in distress.

  Some privateers spent years doing such work. The long-term stability of it certainly had its advantages, Catherine thought, sipping her wine. No chasing after contracts year in and year out. You knew you were going to be employed, and the client paid for all of your ship maintenance on top of it. It wasn’t a bad deal, but it wasn’t something Catherine wanted to do long-term. She’d go crazy patrolling one system for a decade.

  In any case, the engineering and social problems that cropped up with long-term space habitation meant that Red Heaven could be stifling. The wealthy citizenry treated the noncitizen population poorly. Colonial law enforcement had virtually unlimited authority, with very little in the way of due process or rights for the accused. Penalties for civil infractions were stiff; criminal infractions often resulted in deportation or execution. Red Heaven had no prisons. Worse, the Zheng family enforced its very specific vision of social harmony and normalcy. Great if you agreed with their worldview, not so much if you didn’t like it.

  No, Catherine would be quite happy when the Andromeda finally translated out of Folsom 4101-B. The Zhengs and the tiresome, decadent citizenry of Red Heaven could have it, for all she cared. The Folsom system lacked any habitable planets; the system population resided almost entirely in Red Heaven, sealed in a pressurized can against the cold darkness of space. They thought they had it made, that they were living the dream, and they didn’t seem to know how unfortunate their existence was. In Catherine’s estimation, if she wasn’t on her own ship, free to roam the stars, then she wanted solid ground under her feet and an open sky above, the way humans were meant to live.

  After a few moments, the trio of spacers noticed a man headed toward their table, politely following a steward robot. He was dressed in conservative Earth-style business attire instead of the more flamboyant garb favored by Red Heaven natives, but business travelers were hardly uncommon on the colony. The spacers themselves had changed into their street clothes, and didn’t blend in with the locals at all. Upon reaching the table, he leaned forward and offered Catherine a firm, Earth handshake.

  “I do apologize for keeping you waiting, Captain,” he said, breathlessly, as he sat down. His dark hair and Asiatic features were punctuated by the eyepiece he wore over his left eye, which was tinted green. “I got held up trying to get over here.”

  Catherine wasn’t sure how one got held up anywhere on Red Heaven. Private vehicles were limited to certain elite citizens and government entities, and there was no traffic to speak of. Everyone else had to rely on automated mass transit—which was surprisingly efficient, at least in this section of the colony. She didn’t press him on the issue; she simply smiled and introduced her crew.

  “This is Wolfram von Spandau, my first officer.”

  Wolfram gave the newcomer a crisp, vertical handshake.

  “And this,” Catherine said, “is my security officer, Mazer Broadbent.”

  “Greetings,” Mazer said, his deep voice booming. The cybernetic ocular implant which replaced his right eye and a good chunk of the side of his skull, combined with his large frame and intense presence, gave the security man an imposing look. Hav
ing him along for negotiations often kept things from getting out of hand, and he could spot trouble coming from a long way out.

  “To business, then,” the newcomer said, looking around.

  “Is everything all right?” Mazer asked. “You seem nervous.”

  “Fine! Everything is fine,” the man said. He looked up, through the glass ceiling, though the windows of the space colony, into the void beyond. “I’m not just thrilled with, ah, heights, and this place always threatens to give me vertigo. I have to take pills.”

  Catherine sighed. “Mister … I’m sorry, you haven’t yet told me your name.”

  “Tran,” he said.

  “Mr. Tran,” the captain continued, “what is it we can do for you?”

  “I, uh, what I require is the highest level of discretion. I looked up the reports about you and your services, Captain, and you come highly recommended. Discreet, professional, always gets the job done.”

  “It’s a point of pride, yes,” Catherine said. And the result of some vigorous self-promotion.

  “I understand that your contract with the Red Heaven authorities is ending soon, and that you’re preparing to leave the system.”

  Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “That information is not publicly available.”

  Mr. Tran was clearly uncomfortable, but Catherine couldn’t tell if it was because she was confronting him, or because of his fear of heights.

  “I’m aware. I have sources. Please,” he said, raising a hand slightly, “please hear me out. I come with a very generous offer.” He tapped his handheld a couple of times, then slid it across the table to Catherine. “All I need is for you to transport some passengers and some cargo to New Peking.”

  Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, her eyes went wide at the offered pay. New Peking was a Concordiat colony, the nearest major one. It wasn’t close, exactly, but it wasn’t so far as to merit that level of compensation. She showed the device to Wolfram.

  The exec was immediately suspicious. “What is the nature of the cargo we are to be transporting?” he asked pointedly. “You would not be offering this much if there wasn’t something peculiar about it. Is it hazardous? Will it put my crew in danger?”

  “No!” Tran said, sounding more than a little defensive. “No, I swear, nothing like that. Look, there’s a lot I’m not authorized to tell you unless you sign the contract. What I need transported is not dangerous, but it is extremely valuable—priceless, as a matter of fact. It cannot be insured nor replaced. And there are people looking for it, who want to steal it. We need it transported, and we need it protected.”

  “I see,” Catherine said, passing Tran’s handheld back to him. “That would explain why you’re talking to an armed privateer instead of a commercial freight captain.”

  Tran nodded.

  “This cargo,” Wolfram stated, “it is in the Folsom system?”

  “It is,” Tran said, “but it is not on this station.”

  “And since you’ve apparently looked into the classified patrol ship rotation for Red Heaven, you are undoubtedly aware that we are not released from our contract yet.”

  “I am aware of that, Captain. As a matter of fact, I’m counting on it.”

  “What do you mean?” Wolfram asked. “I do not understand.”

  “I’m afraid I’ve said all I can,” Tran said. “You have my contact information. If you’re willing to sign the contract and the nondisclosure agreement, you know how to get a hold of me.” He stood up. “Think it over, but please do not take too long. Time is of the essence.” He excused himself, turned, and strode out of the room.

  “He didn’t even stay for dinner,” Catherine said.

  “I do not like this at all,” Wolfram said. “They could be wanting us to transport illegal or dangerous goods. Stolen property, perhaps.”

  “Hmm,” Catherine said, looking through a copy of the contract on her handheld. “It says that we won’t be asked to do anything illegal under Concordiat commerce law, or the ancient and recognized Laws of Outer Space.”

  “That doesn’t mean their cargo isn’t hot,” Mazer pointed out.

  “No,” Catherine agreed, “but it does mean if they try to pull one over on us we can legally confiscate their cargo and turn them over to the authorities. Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but this one has me intrigued. This offer? It’s more than we’ve made for the entire time we’ve been patrolling the Folsom system, and you both know the Red Heaven authorities don’t skimp when it comes to paying for their defense.”

  “Assuming this Tran fellow actually has access to that kind of money,” Mazer said.

  “If he doesn’t,” Catherine said, “we have ways of handling it. Now, shall we finally order, or are we to keep filling up on appetizers?

  # # # # #

  Privateer Ship Andromeda

  Deep Space

  Folsom 4101-B System

  Sixteen Days Later …

  “Captain on deck!” Wolfram von Spandau announced, as Captain Blackwood entered the Astrogation deck. The Andromeda was accelerating along at a steady 0.85 gravities, allowing the crew to walk around her decks.

  “Everyone relax,” Catherine said, entering the room. Assembled were the ship’s officers and their guest, Mr. Tran. Tran seemed rather less queasy now that he was sealed inside a small ship with virtually no windows. Most of her officers hadn’t yet been briefed on what the new mission was, save for her chief astrogator, Kel Morrow, and the ship’s purser, who had reviewed the contract. They still thought they were going on one final patrol for Red Heaven before returning to their home port on Heinlein. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

  It wasn’t exactly necessary to have these briefings face-to-face. It would have been just as easy for them to conduct the meeting over the ship’s intranet, with everyone still at their duty stations. Catherine preferred to look her officers in the eye when speaking with them, however. Maybe it was an Avalonian quirk; in the space forces of Avalon, her home world, it was routine practice for ship’s officers to start each duty day with a sit-down, face-to-face meeting. Wolfram, having come up in the Concordiat Defense Forces, had once told her that this practice was all but unheard of in the Concordiat Fleet.

  “Captain, am I to assume that our plans have changed?” The question came from Indira Nair, her chief engineer and second officer.

  Catherine smiled. “Am I that predictable, Indira?”

  “It is unlike you to have unscheduled meetings, Captain,” the engineer said, humorlessly. “And there’s the matter of our passenger.” She nodded toward Tran.

  “Yes, well, Mr. Tran approached me with our next contract offer, which I accepted. It should be a short-duration mission, and one that pays extremely well. Mordechai, care to explain?”

  Mordechai Chang was the Andromeda’s purser, bookkeeper, and quartermaster. Unlike the rest of the officers, he wasn’t present on the astrogation deck. He greatly disliked meeting people face to face, and preferred to work from the solitude and security of his workstation, deep within the bowels of the ship. His image appeared on a large screen attached the ceiling. It rotated so that everyone had a clear view.

  “Of course, Cap’n,” he said. His image slid to the left of the screen while the text of the contract appeared on the right. Key phrases were highlighted as he explained the situation. “Mr. Tran and his associates have contracted us to make contact with a ship that’s been in orbit around Hades for quite some time … ”

  “Forty-five days, by Red Heaven reckoning,” Tran said.

  “Yes, forty-five days,” Mordechai repeated. “We are going to take on cargo and one passenger from that ship. Our mission then is to transport said cargo and persons to New Peking, providing protection for them along the way as necessary. Flight time from Folsom 4101-B to planetfall on New Peking should be less than two thousand hours. As you can see, the offered pay is quite a bit more than we’d be normally offered for such a task. Moreover, we were paid half up front.”

&n
bsp; “Each crewmember will be getting the normal portion of that, scaled to his or her pay grade, plus an additional ten percent,” Catherine said.

  “So … what’s the hook?” The question came from Cargomaster Kimball, the ship’s fourth officer. Hailing from the high gravity world of Darwin, Kimball was short in stature but physically very strong.

  “What do you mean?” Catherine asked.

  “That’s an awful lot of money for simply hauling one gentlefellow and some cargo to New Peking. And, am I to assume that we’re going to rendezvous with this ship while still on patrol for Red Heaven? Isn’t this a contractual conflict?”

  “Technically, no,” Mordechai said. “It is very much a technicality, but we won’t be violating the explicit terms of our current contract.”

  “In any case Red Heaven doesn’t need to know what we’re doing,” Catherine said. “This mission calls for the highest levels of discretion, and that’s one reason we’re being paid so much.”

  “How much cargo are we to be taking on?” Kimball asked.

  Tran spoke up then. “About four tons. Computer equipment and associated materials.”

  “What kind of computer weighs four tons?” Indira Nair asked.

  Tran looked uncomfortable again. “Captain, is it necessary to go over this again?”

  “It is,” the captain said. “I’m not going to keep this from my officers.”

  “Very well. May I use your holotank?” He tapped his handheld a few times, and the holotank came to life. A high resolution, three-dimensional image of a room-filling computer cluster filled the display. It was a strange-looking device; such bulk, so many components, but only one panel for an operator to access it. Something resembling a large robot with a triple-camera eyepiece rose from the middle of it all, curved forward in a hunched over stance, looking around, as if the machine was studying the room. “Folks, this is Ember.”