* * *
Liberty Station
The door to the temporary quarters slid open, and Terry Muncer walked in, a smile on his face. The door slid shut again. He picked up the comm, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand.
“It’s done,” he said. “I just called the ship asking for Jim. Jim’s already debarked. We’ll expect full payment. Very well, we can wait a few days. Then, when you have the proof you need, we’ll expect tickets back to New Brittain on top of the payment – that’s our bonus for waiting.”
He disconnected, and walked to the washroom.
The washroom door opened on Telford, who grabbed his arm before he could react. The glass of whiskey fell to the floor, spilling over the tiles.
“Hello, Terry.”
Muncer looked at him, recognition slowly coming. “You’re one of the passengers.”
Telford laughed and indicated his uniform. “This look like a passenger’s uniform? Does my friend, here, look like a passenger?”
Telford felt a savage joy at the look of fear in Muncer’s face as Jackson Pelburn stepped out of the shower stall.
“You and me, Terry, we’re going to have a party. Then you’re going to tell us everything.”
Belligerence overcame fear. “I’ll have Station Security on you before you know what’s happening.”
“You won’t get the chance, my friend.” Telford hadn’t felt like this since the last time he’d walked Liberty Station’s decks. “Like I said, we’re going to party.”
He moved swiftly, locking Muncer in a submission hold while Jackson injected him.
It took only minutes. Muncer began to slur his words, and his body wouldn’t obey his instructions to run.
“Let’s get you into a shipsuit,” Telford suggested.
Supporting him on one side, with Pelburn on the other, they went careening down the hallway, singing. Just three sailors on leave who’d had a little too much to drink. They carefully navigated the concourse, gaining the attention of Security, but not to the point where they interfered. If sailors wanted to party, but made no trouble, they just let them go. And the three obviously walked an uncertain path towards the shuttles, where their crew would have to sober them up. Not a station problem.
“When he wakes up, he won’t remember us. Not without something to prod his memory,” Telford told the Yrdens. “He won’t remember us injecting him, won’t remember his trip back here. He’ll just wake up and wonder how he got back on board.”
“And you have the recording of his talk with NB Lines?”
“Idiot. He should have made that from the same public comm he used to ask about Little.” Pelburn looked disgusted, even though it made their case so much easier. Telford guessed that he appreciated professionals.
Little, now he had all the markings of a professional. He hadn’t cracked, hadn’t said a word. And he wouldn’t. Muncer? Muncer would tell all.
* * *
Muncer woke slowly, as Doctor Gunther Yrden and his nurse aided him from the hospital bed.
“We’d better get you in your chair,” Gunther said.
Muncer looked around him, squinting against the bright lights. “Where am I?”
“You drank too much, Mr Muncer. Station Patrol picked you up. You got lucky.”
“Lucky?” They sat him in the chair and fastened his belt. “Where am I?”
“Yes, lucky. You almost missed the last shuttle back. But the Station Patrol contacted us and we went to get you.”
He went pale. “I’m on Blue Powder?”
Gunther smiled at him. “Exactly. The captain says we almost gave up on you. If he hadn’t held the last shuttle back, you would have been stuck on Liberty Station without any of your possessions. We wouldn’t have been able to gather them up and offload them for you.”
“I’m on Blue Powder?” his voice had risen in pitch.
“Yes. We’ve left Liberty, and are just about to do our final acceleration for the jump to Yamato.”
“No!”
“No? You’ve been out of it, Mr Muncer. I assure you that we’re about to jump.”
“No. I have to get off. Why did you bring me back?” He looked frantic.
From behind the drawn curtains of the next bed in sickbay, Colleen exchanged glances with Adrian. He had done his part of it, now she would take her turn.
Gunther looked puzzled. “Did you want to leave the ship at Liberty?”
“Yes! Yes! You have to take me back.”
“That’s strange,” Gunther said, and Colleen would have to kiss him for his acting ability. “You didn’t even pack – and you had days. What’s so important on Liberty?”
“Days?”
“You went on quite the bender, sir.”
“Never mind that. I have to get off the ship.” He began to struggle, and only then realized that he wore the restraints.
“You can’t get off the ship, sir. We’ve already left orbit. We’re about to go to final acceleration. Please don’t undo your restraints.”
His eyes went so wide that Colleen wondered if he would ever be able to close them again.
“No! No! We’ll all die!”
Gunther laughed. “It may feel like that, what with your head the way it is. However, I assure you, beyond perhaps vomiting when we jump, you’ll be quite all right. Jumping with a hangover won’t kill you.”
“You damned fool! The ship won’t make jump!”
“Nonsense.”
Gunther took a seat. Colleen pressed the button to alert Clay. The ship began to accelerate.
Muncer went white. Before Colleen thought he’d been pale. This went a stage beyond that.
“No! The ship is rigged to explode! Call the Captain! Stop it! Don’t jump!”
Gunther frowned, but activated his comm.
“Captain, this is Doctor Yrden. My patient says that the ship will explode if we jump. Perhaps you’d better come down and talk to him.”
Acceleration ceased.
Muncer breathed like a man who had just run a ten-kilometre race. His breathing had not yet recovered when Clay walked in.
“What’s this about us exploding?”
“Captain. You can’t jump. You have to get me back to Liberty. I can’t be on this ship.”
“Doctor, what foolishness is this?” He shook his head. “We’ve wasted enough time.” He walked to the comm. “Continue acceleration and jump when ready.”
Muncer didn’t even notice that Clay hadn’t bothered to strap in to anything. He merely leaned against a bed as the ship began to accelerate again.
Muncer began to scream. The words poured out, implicating Little, NB Lines, and anyone else whom he could think of.
“Bring us back into stable orbit,” Clay ordered.
Colleen drew the curtain aside. She and Telford stepped out. Muncer’s jaw dropped. He stared at Telford. “You, you.”
“He remembers now,” Telford said. “Jackson, take this man to the brig.”
“You!” Muncer cried out, aghast as he saw Jackson. “You injected me. This will never hold up in court.”
Colleen stared at him. “What makes you think you’ll live to stand trial? Your crimes took place outside the jurisdiction of Liberty, or any other planet. On Blue Powder, you’re subject to Captain’s Justice.” She indicated Clay. “The captain has magnanimously deferred judgment until after we turn you over to Jenna Yrden.”
Gunther pursed his lips. “I believe he fainted, Colleen.”
CHAPTER 22
Blue Powder
Telford stood at the cafeteria table as Mary Pendleton walked over, tray laden with breakfast.
“What just happened, Mr Telford?” she asked.
“The acceleration? A ship’s exercise. Nothing of importance to the passengers.” He took a sip of juice. “So, where are you going on Liberty?”
“Liberty? I don’t know that I’ll go down to the surface. It’s pretty expensive.”
“Expensive? Didn’t they tell you? You, me, and Ko
rsh get a free ride down and back up for our help nabbing the smugglers.” He lowered his voice a little. “The fact that they injured young Vickers probably helped.”
“Vickers?” She looked confused. “Oh, the poor boy in the closet. You’re going down, then?”
“Oh, yes. I have to, whether or not the Yrdens pay my way. I have business to conduct on the surface. But we’re going by Yrden shuttle, not onto the station and then down via Liberty Shuttles.” He smiled. “I hear the Yrden ships make a regular run down to the surface to pick up a load of Marshall wines.”
“Excellent wines, indeed, Mr Telford.”
He stood. “Shuttle leaves in two hours, Ms Pendleton. Will I see you on it, or will you wait for another one?”
“I’ll be there.”
Eight rode the shuttle down. Sean and Doreen piloting, Clay and Korsh, who would make the trip to Marshall Wines, Ms Pendleton and Telford, and two otherhires.
“Shuttle doesn’t go back up until tomorrow evening,” Sean told the passengers. “Be back by 2000 hrs local. We leave at 2100.” He grinned at everyone. “Make sure your chronos are set to Liberty time.”
They walked off the shuttle pad and into the Customs hall. Once through Customs, the pilots and Clay and Korsh went their separate ways.
“See she has a good time,” Telford said to the other crew.
“Adrian?”
Telford turned, cursing whomever had given her his name. “Yes?”
“Thank you for getting me this trip.”
“Me? It’s a reward. We all got it.”
“That’s not true, is it? When were you going to tell me? What’s your real job?”
Sharp. “How did you figure it out?”
“I had my suspicions, but at the table, you said ‘the passengers’, not ‘we passengers’, and that confirmed it for me.”
“I work with Security. We’ve been on the lookout for these smugglers for a while, and suspected they might board at New Brittain. Captain Yrden thought it might work out well if I pretended to be a passenger.
“As for the trip down, it is your reward. You helped us, narrowed our search down. You proved pivotal in us discovering them and, with Mr Korsh, in their capture. They might have gotten the ship in trouble. Thank you, Ms Pendleton.”
“Mary.”
He merely smiled.
“Where are you going?”
“As I told you, I have business down here.”
“For the ship?”
“Personal.” He shrugged. “Otherwise I wouldn’t set foot on this planet. Enjoy. I’ve given your companions the names of a couple places you’ll want to visit. And don’t worry about the departure time tomorrow. You come up any time you want before Blue Powder leaves, either by Yrden Shuttle to the ship, or Liberty Shuttles to the station. Just charge it to Yrden Lines. They’ll check, and you’ll be cleared.”
“Thank you, Adrian.”
“Ms Pendleton.”
He walked off, looking for a cab. The cab took him out of Spaceport into Liberty City proper.
“Here you are, sir. Law Offices of James, Killock and Lintz.”
Telford paid, looked up to the sky above his head. Sometimes he forgot how it felt to have actual atmosphere to breathe, to feel the sun on his body, warming him. He took his time about entering the building.
“Telford. I have an appointment.”
The clerk at the desk sent him to the usual room on the third floor. He’d come here once every two years for the past eleven – since he had felt secure in his job with the Yrdens. This visit would make the first time he’d come on an odd year.
“Hello, Mr Telford.”
“Ms Copely.” He took the proffered chair.
“Right,” she began, looking at her screen. “The stipend ends with graduation, and young Philip graduates in only a few months.”
Telford nodded. “The report from the detective agency?”
She glanced quizzically at him. She had only asked about it once. When he had given her his mind-your-own-business look, she had desisted, never to ask again.
“They report that young Philip is a good kid. Studious, well mannered. Not wild. The detailed report begins on page three.”
He scrolled down to page three and read it carefully.
“And the mother?”
“Marta Watts? Page five. She recently remarried. To one Donovan Parness. He works as a cook at a local restaurant. Report on him begins page seven. To all appearances a well-thought-of man. No criminal record or reported ties to the criminal element.”
No, she would have avoided that.
“Will your subscription end with her marriage?”
A reasonable question. But, no, he owed. He still owed.
“No,” he said, earning a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t expected that. “It continues. Make sure it goes into her account, only, not a joint account. And, as before, no automatic transfers. If she wants her money, she has to come and get it personally.” He could afford her no other protection; it would have to do.
Ms Copely nodded and made a notation. “She has actually allowed a fair balance to accumulate. Looks like it’s for Philips further education.”
“Ah. Speaking of that, a four-year full scholarship with stipend has opened up – and Philip won it. Same stipulations as before: if he runs with gangs or gets involved with criminals, it ends. You’ll make him aware of that?”
“Of course. The anonymous donor’s conditions, with regular checks. He already knows the drill. Any other stipulations?”
“No. Kids have to be kids. Have to make their own mistakes, learn from them – or not. And if he uses the stipend to drink and party, eventually drops out or fails, it’s on him. I can’t – and don’t want to – live his life for him. Ties to criminal elements – that’s something different.”
She looked up after making those notations on the record. She then passed it to him to sign, which he did. His account would cover it.
“Thank you, Ms Copely. You’ve been most helpful.”
She nodded. “That’s what you pay us for. And might I say that you’ve been very generous?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t. Anything further?”
“No. Wait, yes. Put a note down to let me know if he ever evinces any interest in space. If he does – and only if he does – I’ll provide come contacts.”
She noted it, and closed the file. “Until next time, Mr Telford.”
“Until next time.”
He left the building, glad to be finished with that. Too many bad memories. Too many debts to pay. Would he ever come even?
* * *
Minda looked up from her desk during a break in trading. “I don’t understand you, Colleen. Why take our prisoners all the way to Yamato, when we could turn them over to Liberty’s justice department? We have enough evidence against them for a conviction. And, after all, we were ‘docked’ at Liberty Station when the offence occurred.”
“You really don’t know?” Colleen asked, surprised. Born an Yrden, Minda had lived within the Family all her life.
“Clay just wants it over, to get back to trading.”
“Well, it won’t be over if we adopt your way,” Colleen explained. “And we’re not going to try them at Yamato, either. We won’t try them until we reach New Brittain.”
“New Brittain? But we’re not due to return there for – I don’t know how long. I don’t have the itinerary handy.”
“New Brittain,” Colleen confirmed. “And that’s the next stop in our journey, right after Yamato.”
Minda took another look at her cousin by marriage. “You’d disrupt trading for this change of venue? They’re guilty whether we try them at Yamato, New Brittain, or here at Liberty.”
“We’re not going to simply take down these two and perhaps another two or three NB Lines people. We’re going to New Brittain to utterly destroy NB Lines right in front of their major shareholders.” Colleen closed her screen, and bade Minda do the same –
which she reluctantly did.
“Why?”
“This order to destroy some of our ships didn’t come from low levels. It’s a company policy from somewhere high up. And there’s more than one team involved. Neither Little nor Muncer ever shipped on Starfield, so they didn’t sabotage her; someone else did. And, as Tony Paxton suggested, it’s not just us they intend to go after. We had the target on us because we head the Family Trading League. If we go down, the Paxtons will find themselves next in line. NB intends this to break our so-called monopoly forever, to destroy the Family Trading League. After we get to Yamato and Haida Gwaii and explain this, we’ll have the backing of every Family.
“They’ll all back us, because they’ll all see themselves in the crosshairs sooner or later. We try these two here – and have warrants issued for those on Deutschland-1 that supplied them – and we’ll have two to four people in jail. Those that sabotaged Starfield will get away with it, be free to make another attempt. And NB Lines will try again; they’ll deny everything. So four of their pawns got caught and punished. They have plenty of pawns.”
She looked Minda straight in the eyes.
“Thus, we go after the King. That’s the Line and all its stockholders. We go to New Brittain, and present our evidence. We then – as a group, all the Families – say that any company on any planet that deals in any way with NB Lines will face a permanent boycott. No Family ship will ever carry their cargo.
“If NB Lines ships a tractor to African Nations, then not only does the New Brittain tractor company now have to rely solely on NB Lines – and NB doesn’t have the shipping resources to go everywhere – but the company that carries the tractor to Spaceport, the company that loads that cargo into shuttles, the company that raises that cargo to Topside Station, the company that hauls it across to the NB ship, the people who receive it at African Nations Station, the ones who drop it to the planet, the company that sells it, and those who buy it – none of them will ever use a Family ship again.
One Trade Too Many Page 18
