* * *
We arrived on the bridge with just over five minutes to go before our downjump. When we got to our posts we each found coffee and poached eggs on wheat toast waiting for us. The fact that it was still warm surprised Morgana, but I would have been surprised if it weren’t. Max had done his usual, efficient job. I smiled as I thought about him plying his skills in the stark, utilitarian galley that was a far cry from the custom designed kitchen he had back in our suite at the capitol. When I had first told him that I would be leaving Haven for an unknown length of time, Max automatically assumed that he would be coming with me. Although I tried to explain to him that I might be gone for some time and that I was not expecting him to tag along behind me, Max went about preparing to close up the apartment as if he hadn’t heard me, packing for both of us so we could leave at a moment’s notice. Bowing to the inevitable, I decided to integrate him into the crew as our cook, a position I had not previously thought to fill. I knew the crew would appreciate his culinary artistry, and deep down I knew that I would find his presence comforting.
As I dug into my breakfast however, I found myself thinking about Momma Mary and her outrageous aprons. Max was a cordon bleu and I had yet to taste anything better than even his most modest efforts. Even so, although I would never tell him this, from time to time I still missed Mary’s home cooking.
A few minutes later Bobby dropped us back to sublight. As usual his piloting was right on the nose. Beta Antares Three lay directly ahead. On its surface was the city of Toula. This was where we would begin our search. Our sources in the smuggling network had reported a recent increase in the amount of hijacked property that was being moved through Toula. Using my reputation as the smuggler captain Cordass Pell, I should be able to ask questions without raising suspicion. If I were lucky I might even be able to make contact with the pirates directly and start working my way into their circle. At least, that was the plan. Of course, it’s always those situations you don’t plan for which cause the worst problems.
This last thought was echoing in the back of my mind as Bobby slowed us into orbit above the brown and white globe. As Bobby rolled the ship slowly along its central axis to place the planet under our belly, Tom reported that we were being hailed by the spaceport. It was time to go to work.
“Okay people, it’s show time,” I said. “You know what to do, Tom. Put it on speaker so we can listen in.”
“Aye, Sir.” He tuned to the port controller’s frequency. “Toula spaceport, this is the independent trade ship Prometheus requesting landing clearance.”
“We have you on our screens, Prometheus. Please state the nature of your visit.”
“Commerce. We’ve got a hold full of trade goods for sale and will be looking for a new cargo to transport offworld.”
“Understood, Prometheus. Permission to land is granted. You may dock at commercial berthing port C-57-D. Port regulations require that all weapons systems be deactivated and locked down prior to entering our airspace. Turn to a heading of 3-1-4 relative and follow the glide path being transmitted to your navsys. Do not deviate from this trajectory for any reason. Be advised that we are tracking you and you will be under our guns.”
“That’s new,” Chris commented quietly.
“Acknowledged, Toula control,” Tom said. “Turn to bearing 3-1-4 relative and descend on glide path. Prometheus out.”
Bobby was looking back at me.
“You heard the man,” I said.
“Yes, sir,” Bobby said as he prepared the ship for descent. “Glide path data received. Turning 46 degrees port. Beginning descent.”
“Put it up on the main screen, Bobby,” I said.
A series of widely space, computer generated hoops appeared on the screen forming a tunnel before us. As the ship nosed its way into the first hoop I started to settle back into my chair when I noticed Mark suddenly lean over his board, frowning through the glasses perched on the end of his nose.
“Mark, what have you got?” I asked.
“We’re being scanned from six different sites, apart from spaceport control,” he said.
“Weapon emplacements?” I asked.
“Definitely. They’ve got us bracketed nicely, too. If we even look like we’re going to deviate course they can hit us from several angles at once. They probably… Holy crap!” He adjusted his controls as he continued to stare at his readouts.
When he didn’t say anything after several moments, I spoke up. “Is there anything you would like to share with the rest of us?”
“Sorry, Jason, it’s just that those power signatures are more than ten times greater than anything I’ve ever seen before!” he said, obviously shaken by the readings he was getting.
I kept forgetting that his only practical experience was the time he had spent aboard the Prometheus after we escaped slavery on Fernando Rabine’s plantation.
“Relax,” I told him. “Land based weapons are always more powerful. Ships have a limited amount of energy they can devote to weapon systems. But a ground based system is only limited by the size of the generator you want to hook it up to. ”
“Yeah, but why all the firepower?” Chris wondered. “It wasn’t like this the last time we were here.”
“Good point,” I said. “Toula’s always been neutral territory. There’s nothing here anybody would want. Except for the city, the rest of the planet’s a barren rock.” I thought about the situation for a moment then turned to Morgana. “Anything unusual on sensors?”
She ran a series of scans. “I’m not reading anything other than those new weapon batteries, but Mark’s right. Those are major league guns. Judging from their power signatures they must have some pretty big reactors buried down there.”
“Particle cannons?” I asked.
“Three of them read like particle cannons,” she said as she adjusted her scanners. “The others look like rail guns.”
“Good thing we’re not here to cause trouble,” I said. “Obviously there’s more going on than we thought. We’ll have to keep our eyes open. Chris, make a ship wide announcement. I want the rest of the crew to know what’s going on. Everyone needs to be on their toes when we land.”
As Chris addressed the crew over the loudspeaker I watched our progress on the main screen. The red glow of our entry into the atmosphere was just beginning on the ship’s nose. Soon the view ahead was distorted by a corona of fire as we dove deeper into the atmosphere. Eventually the blaze faded to a soft glow as the sky lightened around us and we were soon arcing down toward the only inhabited settlement on the entire planet, the city of Toula. Breaking through a dense bank of clouds several minutes later, the spaceport came into view.
From the air the spaceport was simply a rectangular expanse of grey neocrete on the outskirts of the city dotted with the shapes of various ships that had touched down. The plain appearance of the spaceport contrasted sharply with the glittering flashiness of Toula City itself where every building competed with its neighbors to capture your attention. Brilliant colors and animated holographic displays created a kaleidoscopic panorama that was dazzling even from a thousand meters in the air. Following the landing beacon from the control tower, Bobby brought us down toward the field and settled us into our assigned berth.
As the engines spooled down, the crew quickly went about the task of disguising the bridge systems as Morgana left to meet the inspector who would be waiting to speak with the captain. This was Toula after all, and financial matters needed to be addressed before anyone or anything could leave the ship. By the time Morgana had escorted him to the bridge, the high tech nerve center was gone.
The inspector was an immaculately dressed little man with an expensive looking datapad crooked in his arm. Just like on our previous visits, the inspector was not interested in shipping licenses, permits or passports. After checking to see that our weapons console was locked down and then sealing it with
an orange sticker he came right to the main purpose of his visit.
“Are you still using Creighton & Ward as your financial intermediary?” he asked, checking our ship’s registry against the records he had called up on his pad.
“Actually, uh, we’ll be using the Exchange this trip,” I told him.
Without batting an eye the inspector tapped out a notation on the pad’s screen with his perfectly manicured fingers. High end financial institutions like Creighton & Ward were extremely accommodating to clients who maintained substantial deposits with them, but once your balance dropped below a certain level, fees and service charges came into play while interest rates were cut. When that happened most people took their money elsewhere.
“Since you will be using the Toula Exchange on this visit,” the inspector continued smoothly, “I am required to inform you that a service fee of twenty-five percent of all transactions brokered through them will be assessed against you.”
“That’s outrageous!” I barked. I didn’t have to act surprised. The transaction fee was highway robbery. “That’s more than twice their former rate and even that was too much!”
“I sympathize, Captain,” the inspector said without the slightest trace of sympathy in his voice, “but that is their current rate. The Council has nothing to do with it. I also need to inform you that since your transactions will not be bonded through a triple A rated institution, you are also required to post a security deposit against your port fees.”
I allowed my face to fall into a scowl at his statement. After making a final notation on his pad the inspector looked up and glanced around the bridge, as if noticing its condition for the first time.
After a moment he cleared his throat and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “However, I am authorized to offer a moderate discount for cash payment of the security deposit.”
I didn’t respond at first. Instead, I let him see me fuming silently to myself for several moments.
“The only currency I have aboard is the crew’s payroll,” I said eventually, lowering my voice to match his. Although the use of currency was rare in this day of electronic funds transfers, Toula was one of the few places where actual money was used on a regular basis. Many of the ships that came through here wanted to leave no traces of their dealings and cash transactions allowed them to barter with a degree of anonymity they couldn’t find otherwise. The fact that I paid my crew in cash said a lot about the nature of the ship’s business dealings.
“Since your ship is berthed in a cargo slip, I assume you have merchandise of some type to sell,” the inspector said quietly. “You should be able to replace the security deposit in a day or two. And you will of course receive a full refund of any outstanding amount you were charged, should you not generate the level of profit anticipated.”
“And just who is it that decides how much my cargo is worth?” I asked sarcastically.
“The Council, of course,” the inspector said, ignoring my tone. “In fact, I am going to need you to supply me with a complete list of your cargo to transmit to the central office. They will decide on a fair market value and assess the appropriate percentage for your security deposit. And Captain, please be sure to list everything you plan to sell. The Council does not take kindly to, shall we say, clerical errors.”
“We’ve been here before. I know the rules,” I grumbled. I handed the inspector a data stick with our cargo manifest. He plugged the stick into the side of his pad, uploaded the list and sent it off.
I understood how things worked on Toula and we had come prepared. A modest cargo had been loaded aboard before we’d left the spacedock. It was an eclectic mix of items that an independent trade ship might actually be carrying. In keeping with our cover it wasn’t a particularly valuable cargo. In fact, even if we managed to sell everything we were carrying, the profit we would generate would barely be enough to refuel the ship, especially after paying the outrageous transaction fee we were being forced to pay to the Exchange. A transport crew in our position would be in serious need of cargo to move offworld.
A few moments later the inspector’s datapad chimed.
“Ah, there you are, Captain,” he said, holding the pad so I could read it. “I trust that figure is acceptable to you.”
“I don’t exactly have a lot of choice, do I?”
“Not if you wish to conduct business here,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Fine,” I growled as I pushed myself up from my seat. “You’ll have to come with me to my cabin. I don’t walk around with that kind of cash on me.”
Morgana accompanied us down to my cabin. I left the inspector standing in the middle of the room as I bent down behind my desk and punched in the safe combination. The door opened after a couple of tugs and I spent a few moments counting out the fee.
After double checking the count I turned and placed the stack of bills on the desk. I had brought currency from a number of different nations with us but decided to pay the port fee with Gilead Solars. As I set the money down I noted how the inspector’s eyes widened at the sight of the golden bills. In spite of the recession, Gilead’s economy was still one of the strongest of any of the star nations and our currency was subsequently one of the most stable. With experienced efficiency the inspector quickly verified the total then tucked away the money and used his pad to e-mail me a receipt along with the access codes that would allow us to post our inventory on the local net.
Once our business was completed I had Morgana escort him off the ship while I called Lucky to my cabin. When he arrived, I handed him a palmpad with the data-net access codes the inspector had given me.
“I need you to get on the local net and upload our list of trade goods. Set our starting prices high enough to make us look hungry, but don’t haggle too much if we get any offers. Remember, we’re supposed to be strapped for cash.”
“Cash hungry, huh,” Lucky said with a nod as he casually leaned his lanky frame on the edge of my desk and studied the list. “I can do that.”
“After that you can start on the important stuff. First, I need you to sift through all of the merchandise being offered for sale and compare it to the lists of stolen cargo from the different transport companies that have taken hits recently. I want to know who is moving those goods. I also want you to look for ships that might be up for sale. See if you can match the specs with any of the Fleet ships that have gone missing. I know it’s a long shot but the pirates are getting their ships from somewhere.”
Lucky nodded again. “I’ll do my best, but I doubt I’ll find any listings under ‘Gilead Fleet ships for sale, slightly used’.”
“I suppose that would be a little obvious,” I said, “but see what’s on the net anyway. Have Ian go through the listings with you. He’ll know what to look for. You can contact me on my secure line if you come up with anything.”
“We’ll let you know if anything turns up,” Lucky said. “Where are you going to be?”
“Morgana and I are going to try to work things from a different angle. We’re heading into the city to look up an old friend.”