Chapter Seven
“It’s the right address,” Morgana said uncertainly as she looked from the note in my hand to the building across the street.
After eluding our pursuers we had continued across town for several more blocks before abandoning the cab. A quick check in the back of the car had revealed that our passengers were uninjured. The last I had seen of them they were laying in a tangle on the floor of the passenger compartment clinging desperately to each other. Once I was sure that they were unharmed, we mingled with the crowds on the sidewalk, continued on foot for another block and hailed a ride. Two cab switches later we had made our way to the address Inspector Kovacks had given us.
During the ride we discussed whether we should continue to our meeting with Mr. Smith or not. Since we still weren’t sure who was after us we couldn’t be certain that they would not make another attempt at kidnapping us. If we headed back to the ship now I was certain we could make our way off planet with little trouble, and once we were in space we would be safe. The prototype engines aboard the Prometheus would allow us to outpace anyone who might try to come after us. We could return safely to Gilead space, but we would have failed in our mission. And I didn’t like to fail.
Since their first attempt to kidnap us had been such a spectacular failure however, I doubted that whoever was after us would try anything in public again. Our flight through the streets had already generated a lot of police activity across the city. Very annoyed looking officers were everywhere, especially throughout the gaming district. For the next several hours at least we should have little to fear from our unknown assailants. As long as we didn’t see anyone following us I was willing to take a gamble and continue with the mission. After a quick call to the ship to advise them of our situation and make sure that they stepped up security, we directed our driver to take us to the address where we were to meet the mysterious Mr. Smith.
We had arrived at the location only moments before to find ourselves directly across the street from an imposing, three story building with a sign bearing the name Capital Investments above the main entrance. As we stood beside the idling taxi we studied the street carefully. No one seemed to be paying us any special attention and I decided that we had indeed made good our escape. A generous tip to the driver ensured that he would wait for us to conclude our business. Although I doubted that anyone had been able to follow us here, I did not want to chance waiting around to hail a ride back to the spaceport.
“That’s got to be it,” I said. “Kovacks isn’t likely to make that kind of mistake.”
“But a bank?” Morgana said. “It doesn’t seem like the right place to find the type of ruthless characters Smith and his bunch are supposed to be.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Some of the most callous, back stabbing bastards I’ve ever dealt with were involved in the finance industry.”
“What do we know about Capital Investments?” Morgana asked, ignoring my comment.
“Not enough, apparently.”
I put in my phone earpiece and made another quick call to the ship. When I was routed through to Chris I told him to send a coded message to Morgan to pull together everything he could find on Capital Investments and send it to us as soon as possible. After getting an acknowledgment from Chris I put away my phone and turned to Morgana.
“Let’s go beat the bushes and see what jumps out,” I said.
We crossed the street and stepped up to the large double doors which slid open silently at our approach. As we stepped out of the glare of the afternoon sun we found ourselves in the richly appointed interior of an obviously affluent bank. The decor was dominated by a profusion of oak paneling and brass fixtures, with fancifully topped columns supporting the vaulted ceiling above a highly polished, black marble floor. Four tellers sat at a long counter on the left servicing a small line of waiting customers, while to the right were several large desks where immaculately attired bank officers sat working at their terminals. Only one of the bank officers was busy with a customer so we approached the nearest desk and told the woman sitting there that we had come to see Mr. Smith.
“Certainly, sir,” she said, with a pleasant smile. “This way, please.”
She led us to a locked door and glanced toward a retinal scanner. A moment later the security door hummed quietly aside and she led the way down a short corridor to a sumptuously appointed conference room. A long table of polished mahogany occupied the center of the room, surrounded by thickly padded, leather floatchairs. The woman told us to make ourselves comfortable and said that Mr. Smith would be with us shortly. In the meanwhile we were free to refresh ourselves from the bar.
Once she was gone I wandered over to the glass topped credenza and pretended to be interested in the selection. Several cut crystal decanters contained a variety of spirits. Unstopping one that held an amber colored liquid, I swirled and sniffed the contents, inhaling the bouquet of what was obviously a well aged, single malt scotch.
As I poured myself a drink Morgana stepped up next to me and scratched her earlobe, signaling that there were listening devices in the room. I had automatically assumed that there would be all types of sensors trained on us, whether we spotted them or not.
“Do you think this Smith person will be able to help us, Captain?” she asked quietly.
“I hope so,” I said in a low voice, replacing the stopper and setting the decanter down. “We really need to upgrade our weapons systems. We were lucky to get away the last time with our hull intact. If we don’t get some heavier firepower on board we might not be so lucky next time. If Smith can throw us a couple of good jobs we’ll be able to pick up that Trident weapons pod we’ve been looking at. Then maybe we can start considering more…aggressive jobs ourselves.”
“Well, we need to do something quick because the crew’s beginning to grumble. The jobs we’ve been able to put together over the past few months haven’t exactly gotten us big pay offs.”
“And that’s my fault?” I growled.
“No, sir, I’m not saying that. But we need to turn things around or the crew’s going to start getting ideas.”
“Yeah, well, you keep your eyes on the crew and let me worry about lining up jobs. We’ll have enough for that weapons pod soon and then we’ll see about turning things around. There’s a lot of people out there pulling down big scores. I don’t see why we can’t get a piece of that action for ourselves.” I pretended to take a sip of my drink while actually doing little more than wetting my lips.
At that moment the door opened and Mr. Smith entered. Smith stood almost two meters tall with precisely groomed black hair and a meticulously sculpted goatee. In his left earlobe he wore a diamond stud that was at least two carats and I recognized his suit as a Cassius Baroque design which meant that it had to have
cost several thousand credits. It was difficult to gage his body accurately within the expertly tailored suit, but judging by his broad shoulders and narrow waist I suspected he was built like a wrestler. Flashing a mouth full of very white teeth, Smith extended his hand as he strode up to us, his movements fluid like those of a jungle cat stalking its prey.
I disliked him immediately. I couldn’t explain it but there was just something about him that set my teeth on edge. It felt as if he were trying to intimidate me. I clamped down on my feelings as I reached for his hand.
“Captain Pell,” he said, taking my hand in a firm grip.
“This is my security officer, Alex Feign,” I said as I freed myself from his grasp.
“A pleasure,” he said, taking Morgana’s hand. The flash of interest in his eyes as he looked at her started an uneasy stirring in my gut. For a moment I thought I actually saw her staring to blush. Finally, he released her hand and gestured toward the seats at the conference table.
“Let’s make ourselves comfortable.”
Once we were seated Smith activated the datapad he was carrying. Dat
apads were twice the size of a typical flatpad. This allowed for part of the screen to be turned into a full keyboard while still allowing for a good sized monitor. Smith spent several seconds typing at his pad and studying the display before he looked up at us.
“I understand that you’re looking for cargo, Captain,” he said casually.
“We were told that you had something you wanted shipped off planet ... discretely,” I said.
Smith studied me for a moment through hooded eyes. “It is possible that we may be able to do business, Captain. What is the name of your ship?”
“The Prometheus,” I said, not doubting for a moment that he already had a complete file on us displayed on his pad.
“Ah, yes. Prometheus. Here we are. New Bahama registry. Hmm. I see that you were last in Toula about six months ago. No incidents with the local authorities. All port fees paid promptly. Good, good ... ”
He looked over our records for a few more moments then set the pad aside.
“I don’t see anything that would keep us from doing business, Captain,” he said, flashing us a bright smile.
“That’s good,” I said as I settled back into my seat and pretended to relax. “I’ve got a solid crew with a one hundred percent delivery record. Ship with us and we’ll guarantee to get your cargo to its destination.”
“I’m sure you will, Captain.” Smith paused, looking at me speculatively.
When he didn’t elaborate I said, “Okay, so what’s the job?”
Smith sat back and casually crossed his legs. He paused for a moment to pick an invisible bit of lint from his immaculate trousers and said, “I represent a group that has a certain cargo which needs to be shipped out immediately.”
“Any special requirements for this cargo?”
“No. You will simply be transporting twenty containers to a rendezvous in deep space where another ship will be waiting to take them off your hands.”
“Sounds simple enough. What does the job pay?”
Smith typed a few keys on his pad and slid it across the table to me. “Half now and the balance on completion of delivery.”
“That’s a nice piece of change,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“It’s an important job, Captain. Do a good job for us and we may have more work for you in the future.”
“And just where are we bringing this cargo, Mr. Smith?”
Smith studied me for a moment before speaking. “Do we have an agreement?”
I hesitated briefly, as if weighing it in my mind.
“Okay, Mr. Smith. We have a deal.”
“Excellent,” Smith said, smiling. I was getting tired of those perfect teeth. He brought up a star chart on his pad with coordinates listed across the bottom edge.
“That’s out in the middle of nowhere,” I commented when he slid his pad across the table for us to see.
“The people I represent prefer to keep a low profile in their business dealings.”
Morgana tapped the pad’s screen with a finger. “That’s fine, but to get to these coordinates we’ll have to cross through an area of heavy pirate activity.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Smith said, offhandedly.
“Mr. Smith, we’re not exactly a fighting ship,” I said. “We’re not going to be any use to you if we get raided.”
“I understand, Captain, but rest assured that your ship will not be bothered on this run.”
When I hesitated before answering, he added, “We did have an agreement, Captain. Of course, if you’re afraid…” He slid the pad back to his side of the table. He typed briefly at his pad and studied a new window he had opened. “From your shipping history I can see that your past activities here have been, shall we say, conservative ventures. Perhaps I am asking too much of you.”
So he did have a dossier on us. Smith didn’t know it but I wouldn’t have turned down his offer for anything in the world. I wasn’t worried about going up against pirates. What didn’t make sense to me was why he was willing to trust such an obviously valuable cargo to us when as far as he knew our ship was only a few steps away from the breaker yard. To send us into an area of known pirate territory seemed like a huge risk.
Unless he had a way of keeping the pirates away from our ship.
“I’ve given you my word, Mr. Smith,” I said, trying to sound mildly offended, “and I always stand by what I say. Our ship may not look like much but she’s got plenty of heart. We’ll get the job done.”
“Excellent. I see your reputation is well deserved, Captain. And don’t worry about pirates. I give you my personal assurance that no one will interfere with you.”
Morgana and I exchanged looks.
“That’s quite a promise,” I said. “Do you have some kind of arrangement with the pirates?”
Smith simply smiled enigmatically.
“Upon your return we can discuss further enterprises,” he said, ignoring my question. “I foresee us working quite closely together in the future, Captain.”
“Great. So, when can I pick up the first half of our payment? I’ve got a payroll to meet.”
Smith gave us another view of his teeth. “Actually, the funds have already been transferred to your account. Call it an act of faith.”
He wasn’t wasting any time.
“And the cargo?” I asked.
“It should be arriving at your berth within the next twenty minutes.”
“I guess that’s everything then,” I said as I started to rise.
“Um, if I may, Captain,” Smith said as he pointed to his pad. “I notice that you have some cargo posted for sale.”
“That’s what brought us to Toula in the first place,” I said, settling back into my seat. My senses were suddenly on alert.
“I see by the dock records that you have not been able to find buyers for the bulk of your cargo.”
“We only landed a little while ago.”
“Of course. I only mention it because the group I represent needs their cargo shipped out immediately. I’d hate to see you miss out on a sale because you were running an errand for me. Perhaps I can be of help.”
Here it comes.
“I see that the Council has already set an assessed value on your cargo,” Smith continued. “What if I were to increase the assessment by, oh shall we say, fifteen per cent and let you bond the entire thing over to the bank. For a mere six percent commission we will act as your agent and handle the sale of your merchandise while your ship is away. I can even have an account opened for you with us, so that you aren’t subject to the outrageous rates you’re currently being charged by the Exchange, and arrange to transfer the balance of your account to us as well. You’ll find that we pay a substantially higher rate of return on your money than any other financial institution.”
“That’s ... very generous of you, Mr. Smith,” I said.
Smith dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand.
“Not at all. As I said, I see us doing a lot of business together in the near future. Our bank believes in treating our business associates well.” Pulling up a different screen Smith typed in a few commands then held out a stylus and indicated where I should sign.
“If you will just give me your signature here I can begin the process,” he said.
And now he’s setting the hook, I thought.
I pretended to look over the contract briefly then took the stylus and scrawled a signature on the indicated line.
“Excellent,” Smith said as he slid the pad back. “I’ll have my secretary forward a copy of this to your ship for your records.”
“Actually,” I said as I pulled out my own slightly battered palm pad, “if you don’t mind I’d like to download a copy of the contract now.”
There was the briefest instant when his expression froze before he brought his teeth back into play.
“Not at all, Captain,” Smith said. “A wise precaution.”
I placed the worn
pad on the table with the I/O port facing the matching data port on his pad and set it up to receive a download. Smith tapped briefly at his screen and a copy of the contract was transferred.
“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” I said, slipping the pad back into my pocket. “I feel much better now that that’s done.”
“You’re a sharp business man, Captain,” Smith said smoothly.
A truly sharp business man would have read through the contract before he signed it, but I wanted Smith to feel comfortable that he had the upper hand in our relationship.
We stood and shook hands.
“Well, Captain, I look forward to your successful return.”
“I’m looking forward to that as well, Mr. Smith.”
Smith escorted us back to the banking floor where we took our leave. We saw that our taxi was still waiting for us across the street as we stepped out into the afternoon sun. No one paid us the slightest attention as we hurried to it and set off back to the spaceport.