Jet arrived at Hiram's office early and full of information on the customs and cargo section. Much he had known was hearsay and rumour but now he knew that the section was responsible for every movement on and off the asteroid. Mainly it was to do with shipping the individual cargo wherever it was to go: the rest was incoming materials and personnel. He had records on all arrivals; though considering many didn’t reveal their true past, this work constituted placing them in work, which seemed appropriate. Besides there was the customs section checking that everything arriving was what was supposed to. From what Jet could tell Hiram knew everything from the contents of parcels from families to how much and where workers' wages were sent back home.
"Before you tell me your decision," began Hiram. "I need you to understand that the pay and privileges you will receive do not come cheaply: upper level staff need to be discreet and occasionally act independently outside their…. official duties."
Jet nodded knowing there was always a catch. "I know in many situations there are things that need doing that are best contained."
"And sometimes those things would not be approved if they became public."
Jet nodded again.
"So do you want the job?"
"I'll give it a try." Jet tried to sound blasé but Hiram's reply wasn’t what he expected.
"I don’t want you to try Mr. Black; I expect your total loyalty."
Jet felt chastised. "I'll do whatever you ask me to Mr. Benedict."
Hiram's frostiness disappeared as quickly as it had come. "Very well: what do you know of my yacht?"
The sudden change in topic threw Jet, and he wasn’t sure how much he did know or what was false. "It's beautiful."
Hiram laughed. "Indeed it is but this is business and in business it is a load of metal with a very valuable part at its center."
"A diamond."
"Yes, but not just a diamond; a very valuable diamond; in fact the gem itself is worth far more than the value of the yacht." Hiram went quite but his facial expression said all he needed to.
Jet wasn’t entirely sure what was coming next, but enough to guess. "You want to remove the diamond?"
"If the diamond was removed the yacht is useless and worth nothing: but..." he smiled conspiratorially. "The yacht is insured."
This time he understood, Jet nodded yet again. "An accident?"
"In which the yacht is totally lost…" Hiram smiled.
Jet wasn’t sure if he was meant to say the words but he did. "And you get the diamond and the insurance?"
"No," snapped Hiram. "Well not immediately: I get the insurance, and you remove the diamond to a safe place, until the time is right."
It was illegal; Jet was well aware it was illegal, and if things went wrong it would be all his fault. "How?"
"About that I need to know nothing, but you have an associate; a Mr. Hubly?"
Jet nodded.
"I am informed he is something of an electronic genius?"
Jet wasn’t sure of that, but Chub certainly knew about mechanical things. "Yes."
"I have no doubt that he could change a few settings or make a few alterations; but no explosives. If ever a trace were found explosives could be traced. It must just disappear."
Jet knew if it could be done Chub could probably do it.
"So we know what others get or lose; what do I get?"
"You have the new position."
"Insurance companies didn’t like being cheated; they will throw everything into finding the culprit; besides I may have to pay others, so it has to be worth the risk."
Hiram nodded. "So what is your price?"
Jet had no idea, but it would be a long prison term. Suddenly he remembered Hiram's own words. "The Silver Flyer," he said.
"The Flyer?" Hiram looked at him shocked and puzzled.
"You said the Flyer useless and worth nothing, but it's insured. Give me what the Flyer is insured for."
Hiram looked at him; his face serious. "Mr. Black I seem to have undervalued you. You are correct, the yacht can be replaced." A sly smile came over Hiram's face. "Very well, once the yacht is no more, the insurance valuation is yours."
Chub was shaking his head. "Jet you’re being set up."
"You mean I couldn’t get the promotion on merit?" replied Jet indignantly.
"What I'm saying is that you're given a dream job; with enough cash to set you up for life: why? Benedicts got a hundred goons who'll do whatever he says without any of that."
"And goons that can connect straight back to him."
"But you won't? Jet, he'll double cross you; us: the cash won't be there and we'll get fingered."
"Probably; but he won't do anything while we have the diamond."
"And you think he hasn't thought of that. No diamond, no money, and believe me the diamond is worthless to us. Jet you've been on the right side of the law: me; well I've known lots of people like Benedict; they weigh the odds and they don’t do anything without closing every loophole. So you have the diamond: it will be hot, nobody will fence it: it'll just burn a hole in our pockets until we hand it over for a pittance."
Jet knew Chub was right on every count, but he had been in no win situations before and come out on top: he was sure he would this time too.
Jet had been in the new position for two days when Hiram came into his office. "How's it going Jet?"
"Great; taking a little while to master all the detail; but Frank outside is making sure everything is right."
"He would," said Hiram. "He's been here forever." He hesitated. "Jet I want that little matter we discussed doing tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" gasped Jet, "But it's too early."
Hiram was adamant. "Early; I don’t remember discussing advance notice. It has to be tomorrow."
Jet looked towards the door making sure it was closed. "Hiram I have meetings tomorrow, if I have to take the Flyer it's going to create suspicion?"
Hiram looked at him puzzled. "You take it?"
"Yes who else can I ask to steal it?"
"Steal it? No I don’t want it stolen, I want it destroyed. Tomorrow its cargo bay will be loaded with fuel. Hubly modifies the wiring so that half way to its destination it explodes."
Jet was shocked. "Half way; there will be a crew?"
"Of course there will be crew; it can't fly itself can it?"
"But they will be..."
"Yes; surely you realized that?"
"No; we were going to take it."
"I've just said that isn’t how I wanted it done."
"But killing people; I didn’t want to."
"Jet you were a soldier; you have killed many people."
"That was different."
"No it wasn’t, the bureaucracy you worked for were directed by industry; were just cutting out the middle men. Tomorrow Jet; see it is done.
Chub seemed less concerned than Jet had been. He listened; his face serious until Jet had finished. "It can't be a complete surprise Jet," he said. "It's puzzled me for a while what he was up to." Chub smiled. "At first I thought he was after you; maybe there's something in your past that he wanted revenge for or something?"
Jet thought on how Benedict was right; he had killed, and killed a lot of people; maybe his squad had thwarted some scheme Benedict had had, but it seemed pointless to target the tool instead of the men who had sent him on the mission. "Or you?'
"Me... Nah," Chub dismissed the idea. "We were on the same side, though when businesses the size of his do things they aren't considered illegal activities."
Jet nodded; big business and governments are never considered criminals even though they often use criminal methods.
"So what was his plan?" Chub continued. "An insurance scam?" Chub shook his head. "Benedicts got more cash stashed away than he can ever hope to spend: the insurance of the Flyer is pocket money. I doubt he's even that bothered about the diamond. Nothing made sense, until I found out who was the pilot. It's clear now his target is Rosie."
Jet had heard the
name mentioned; or more correctly sniggered. Hiram called her his niece, and most of the workers assumed she was one of his toys; and probably that was what Hiram intended; but others said Rosie wasn’t that kind of girl, and it was a more complicated relationship. The story varied a bit but it seemed Rosie had been the child of one of the concubines that Hiram had cast off. Pregnant with Rosie, her mother had returned to the planet, and had been forgotten by Hiram, and as far as he had been concerned that was the end of it; but after Rosie's mother had died she had come looking for her father with DNA proof, and legal documents. For all his ruthlessness Hiram was not a fool and realized she had grounds to make a claim against the company. To keep litigation at a minimum he had convinced her to join the company and she would quickly work her way up; but jobs for females were non-existent, so she had been sent back to college to study business: that gave Hiram breathing space.
"I found out that recently she graduated and returned," said Chub. "When she did Hiram made her the Silver Flyers pilot; apparently he told her that meeting and forming relationships with the companies contacts would set her up to enter senior management; but she began to suspect he was never going to keep his word. Apparently her lawyers are ready to serve documents."
Jet nodded meekly; at last it all made sense. Chub had been right all along, they had been set up; they would never get the money or the diamond; instead they would be blamed with murder.
"We can't go through with it Chub."
"If we don’t where do we go, we're stuck here on this piece of rock waiting for Hiram to come and get us."
Jet was at a loss, but Chub didn’t seem disheartened; in fact he smiled.
Jet sat nervously looking at the clock: conscious and strangely reassured by the bulge under his suit jacket. Suddenly the phone rang; so loud that he inadvertently jumped in the chair: he picked it up. "Done," said the voice before the phone went dead. He recognized it as Chub's.
Jet dialed the number Hiram had given him. "Done," he said just as secretively.
Jet stood and walked to his reception area and paused in front of Frank. He wondered if the man was in on everything. "I'm at the meeting if anyone calls," he said.
"Okay Mr. Black," he replied pleasantly.
Jet walked out of the building. Further down the tunnel he could see a small group of men casually talking. He turned the other direction, towards the spaceport instead of towards the meeting. As casually as he could he glanced back and saw the men had begun following him. Without obviously hurrying he turned a bend and now broke into a sprint: seconds after they turned too. The sound of rapid heavy footfall echoed around the tunnel as the first shot ricocheted off the wall close by. His hopes were justified as he quickly realized they weren’t trained soldiers: if they had been one would have stopped and taken proper aim. It was time to slow them down and Jet fell behind some machinery; and pulled out the pistol. He looked at it and hoped it would work. It was what he had once called a Saturday night special; an improvised firearm made of pretty much whatever was to hand. Specials were often heavy, always unrifled, and especially dangerous; whichever side of the gun you were, but with weapons unavailable to workers, it was the best Chubs friends could do. It was pointless taking good aim so Jet just pointed it and fired. The noise was ear shattering and the recoil was immense: he remembered the lecturer telling how specials killed more users than victims, but it had the desired effect and the men dived for cover as Jet began running again. All he needed was a few more minutes.
Chub was pacing agitatedly when jet arrived. "Your late," he said sharply. "It's passed departure time; it could have left."
Jet padded his pocket, "Not without customs clear…."
Shots rang out and they both automatically crouched.
"Brought a goodbye party did you," Chub said.
"Seems Hiram is keen for me not to go."
Chub pulled a small box from his pocket and glanced back down the tunnel, waiting until the men were passing a parked small dump truck. He pressed the button and the truck exploded: the men disappeared into a thick cloud of dust and debris.
Jet followed Chub through into the hangar and immediately stopped. He had seen the Starship from a great distance but never so close, and he was dazed. It's sleek and stunning lines filled his senses with pleasure. He couldn’t imagine how Hiram could even think of destroying such a beautiful thing. Its silver fuselage seemed to shimmer in the heat from the idling engines. He was so awed that it took a round of fire from a machine gun to make him move and he raced after Chub up the ramp. Chub was smiling as he entered the Flyer, and hit to close button. "I thought for a moment that you had changed your mind?" he said.
Jet was still awed as he followed Chub onto the flight deck. A young and very attractive woman was stood waiting and apparently annoyed.
"What are you doing back?" she looked at Chub then at Jet, "And who are you?"
Jet calmly offered the customs clearance papers to her. "Enter the number in to top right hand corner."
"I know how to do that, what I don’t know is why you are both still here?"
"We're here to save your life," said Jet.
She was obviously angry at the delay. "What are you talking about?" she snapped.
Jet pulled the Dictaphone from his pocket and pressed play. Hiram's voice filed the cabin. "Steal it? No I don’t want it stolen, I want it destroyed. Tomorrow its cargo bay will be loaded with fuel. Hubly modifies the wiring so that half way to its destination it explodes."
"Half way; there will be a crew?"
"Of course there will be crew; it can't fly itself can it?"
Jet pressed pause. "There's more; I can play it all if you want but those guys outside will already be calling up reinforcements and bigger weapons; so I suggest we leave the rest till when we are less pressed?"
Rosie's anger had been replaced by shock, as she looked out of the windows and the engaged the main engine.
They flew straight down the access tunnel as the code was opening the outer doors. The Silver flyer leapt off the asteroid and in moments: under Rosie's expert command it was weaving through the field.
Rosie looked at them both as the recording ended. "He wanted me dead?"
"All of us," said Jet. "Once Chub had set the Flyer for destruction both he and I would have been killed; they tried on my way here but I was ready."
Rosie looked at them. "I'll set course for the planet."
"No," said Jet firmly. "Hiram is no doubt at this moment calling all his contacts. No one will believe us, or probably ever hear of us. If we go anywhere where his influence stretches Chub and I will end up dead and you will just as probably disappear."
"You expect me to let Hiram get away with trying to kill me?"
"No: just leave your revenge for another time: I'm sure ours and his lives are going to cross again."
"Then what do you suggest?"
Jet smiled, "Well Chub has always had this dream; and I kind of like it too. We go into business; the three of us as the Silver Flyer Express,"
Chub interrupted. "That’s the Sci-fi Express; courier service."
Rosie looked at them in total disbelief, "Couriers?"
"Yes," Jet looked out of the window. "That’s our future, and our home is out there; home amoung the stars."
More Jet Black, and other novels and stories by John Stevenson can be found by visiting
www.caelin-day.com
www.Australianstoryteller.com
www.Australianstorywriter.com
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