"Tim Minear's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress", huh? Never heard of it, but it sounds kinky. Not that I'm judging - I just buy and sell.
And that's why we were in Isham's that night. To buy and sell. Tito's there with my merch, and I'm going to buy it. And then I'm going to make a quick hop to another station where I'm going to meet with my buyer. The guy represents a consortium - a really BIG group of fans. I don't know how much he's going to charge them, but I know that my payday is going to set me up GOOD. Bigger ship, long vacation. Everything. And I'm THIS close to it. I just need to buy then sell, and then I'm there.
So I cross the bar to Tito. He's at one of those little standing tables they have at some bars, and when I get close he puts the briefcase on the table and opens it. He makes a big production out of it, because he's like that. The lid opens up, and there it is. Firefly Season Two.
No, I've got no idea what it is. Just some TV show. I know this much, though: my buyer and his people are REALLY interested. See, in his branch there was only one season. No, I'm not sure why - maybe it's like Star Wars, where the director died, maybe not. Anyway, I reached into the briefcase and picked it up, read the label, opened it and look. It's not just a case - the media is in there. It's real, and I've got it, right in my hands. I look up and see Tito, and he's got an eyebrow raised. I know what he's after, and - yeah - fair's fair. I closed the container and put it down in the briefcase, then Tito closed the case and locked it. It's out of sight, but not for long. It's going to be mine in a second.
I reached into my pocket and took out the payment. Some book of philosophy from a guy I've never heard of in one of the Aztec / Viking perpetual war branches. And a pouch of gold coins on top of that, because the video is a lot rarer than this book. I put them both down on the table next to the briefcase, and that's when it happened.
What? Yeah, another beer would be good newb. I like the way you think. And some spiced crawdads, if they have them in this branch. Sure "jalapeno poppers" will work. Whatever.
OK, thanks.
So I put the book and the gold down on the table, and that's when it happens. Something red and sticky splashes all over me. I figure some jackass has tripped and splashed salsa or harissa sauce on me, and I immediately reach for the coins, in case this is some sort of mugging. Most people know better than to commit a robbery right out in the open in a trading port, but, like I said, new faces all the time, and not all of them are geniuses. It's the nature of the business.
So I reach out for the coins - and my hand lands on Tito's head. He's slumped over the table. It's not salsa, it's blood. Someone popped Tito, right there in the Isham's. Right in the open.
It takes me a second to react - I'm a ship's kaiser, not the muscle. But I wipe the blood - Tito's blood - out of my eyes, and I see Friedrick Richter, standing right there, gun in his hand. I think for a second he's going to shoot me too, but he doesn't. He just grins, then turns and runs.
And that's when I realize he's got the briefcase. With Firefly Season Two in it.
Yeah, I know. I'm a bastard for even noticing. I should be grieving about Tito, right? The thing is, Tito's not family. He's not even a friend. And, besides, we're not talking about what I did after considered reflection and talking to a spiritual advisor. I'm telling a story about what actually happened. And what actually happened is that I wiped Tito's blood out of my eyes, saw Friedrick with the briefcase, and I ran after him.
Friedrick must've planned it. By the time I got to the back door it was locked behind him, so I had to go out the front. By the time I got there he was already down a flight, down on the floor of the warehouse. You see people jump over railings all the time in the movies, but this is real life. A fall of 10 cubits will break your legs - if you're LUCKY. So I ran to the nearest stairs, and by the time I'm down on the floor, Friedrick is already at his ship. I see him close the hatch and he must've had the field generator already on and all the tubes warmed up, because a few seconds later and he's GONE.
So I sprint to the al-Din. Yeah, right across the floor, cutting straight to -
No. When I told you to stay in the yellow lines, I was serious. Do as I say, not as I do, newb. Besides: extenuating circumstances, acts of war, etc.
So I'm in the al-Din, warming it up, and Oive, Johann-stepson-twice-Chang, and Ginny Mae pile in behind me. It takes a good quarter of a danda to get the drive going, and that's because I use heaters on the electronics and I leave them running 24 by 7. Less stress on the glass that way. So there we are, a quarter of a Danda behind him. Yeah, four-five minutes. Stop interrupting.
And we launch.
Now, remember, the aether was rocky on the way in, and it's even worse heading out. That actually makes it easier to track Friedrick. Don't ask me why - I don't know tech stuff. Johann-stepson-twice-Friedrich, my artificer, is working the tracer and he knows what he's doing. Even though Friedrick's got a good lead on us, we're on him. Oive is pushing the ship, and we're catching up. The ship is bucking around us. We're all strapped in, but it barely helps, because we're getting thrown back and forth in our seats. The storm is bad, and out the windows everything is dopplered to hell and back. I'm seeing stuff you wouldn't believe - ziggurats with towering flames on top, huge balloons trailing banners with strange cuneiform markings, a huge crystal city with thousands of corpses hanging from the ramparts. Ginny Mae even said she saw some little gray people riding armored dinosaurs, but I'm not sure I believe her. She's got a real imagination, that one. Then again, who knows - maybe she saw it.
The radio was even weirder. Snippets of all kinds of things. Music, if you can call it that, that sounded like harps with people screaming over the top. Something that I think was a political talk show in Latin, and Oive swears they were talking about three different species of human being. Russian rap music. Some branch where they were debating the fact that every single phone was tapped by the secret police. Another branch where they were building a bridge over the Atlantic ocean. Crazy stuff.
Friedrick was doing this on purpose. He could tell that we were following him, and he was steering deeper and deeper into the storm to try to throw us off. But Oive's good, and we stayed with him.
And then finally we caught up. When Oive gets angry, he gets ANGRY. I told you I wasn't a friend of Tito, but the thing is: Oive was. So the man had a mean hate going, and when we were just a skein or two away from Friedrick's ship, Oive didn't hit him with a grapnel or try to flutter him off course. No, that insane son of a temple whore hit him with the Pauli Gun. WHILE THE DRIVE WAS ON.
It's a damned good thing we were strapped in.
The al-Din crashed out of aether. It didn't land. It crashed. Not at a port with a beacon, where there's a broadcast height correction. No. Just in the wild.
There's a reason people don't do that.
It could've been catastrophic. If the land was a little higher in that branch, or if it'd been under glaciers, we'd have tunneled, exploded, and smeared ourselves from Glorious Khan's World to Australian Christos and back again. So, yeah, all things considered, we lucked out. Still, phasing in five or six cubits above the ground and falling is "lucky" in context, not lucky in any absolute sense.
In this branch the entire the island was empty - no New York, no New Amsterdam, no Kathringrad.
So when we fell we didn't land on a motopod or a school bus.
We landed on dirt.
And we landed hard.
The ship's lights were out, the whole place smelled like smoldering Bakelite, and you just KNEW all the electronics were scorched.
The only good thing is that if we were dead in the water, Friedrick's ship was even deader.
I was the first out the hatch, my feet in the mud and a gun in my hand.
Two chains away was Friedrick's ship, and as I watched the hatch sprang open and smoke came pouring out. And then Friedrick himself stumbled out, fell to his knees in the mud and started coughing.<
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I walked over, pointed my pistol at his head, and picked up the briefcase. He'd carried it out with him, for some reason. And as I pick it up - you know how in a movie the hero'd say something really cool at that point?
Yeah, well. I'm no movie hero. Wish I was. I just took the case and called him a son-of-a-Stuart.
And that's where the story gets weird.
Just to the left of Friedrick's ship, something else phased in. I took a step back, it was so close. Then it was all there, and it fell to the ground.
And it was Friedrick's ship.
And then it happened again. And again. And again.
By the time it was done there were a baker's dozen of them. And out of each hatch, a different Friedrick staggered out, fell to his knees, and coughed.
The ships were all slightly different. And so were the Friedricks. One was wearing green overalls. One was wearing blue. One had a t-shirt and shorts. One had a big scar across his face.
And all of them were holding briefcases.
Yeah, twins aren't new. Play this game long enough and you'll run into people