“Are you asking what’s wrong?” she asked in disbelief. “Is that what you’re asking? You’ve been gone a whole day. What am I to think? Are you dead? Did you just not care? And now, I come home, and there’s this big thing in the way, right where I park. You know I don’t have anywhere else to park, right? A little warning would be nice. And all you can ask me, is how’d my day go? You’re asking why I seem a little perturbed? Are you serious?”
“I had a rough day, all right?” he replied. “Couple of days. Trust me, it was not my intention of being gone for so long like that. There was really little I could do. But I’m back now. That’s the main thing, right?”
She looked at him and wondered what on earth she was doing, and why he was in her lounge and in her life. This man did not seem at all concerned about how she felt. While it was true that she had enjoyed not having him around, she had at least expected him to apologise for being away. Instead he was complaining, and looking at her like she was an inconvenience.
No, there was something else about him. He was looking at her like she was not what he wanted. She was not behaving the way that he expected. Her questions and answers did not fit his script.
“This is over,” she announced, her hands held up like she was surrendering. She was partly relieved to be actually saying words that she had long thought about saying.
“What’s over?”
“We’re over.”
“Let’s talk about this later, can we?”
“I’m talking about it now. I’m not having any more of this from you, Real. This is it.”
He indicated toward the dining table and changed his tone, to one she had never heard from him before. “I’ve made you a nice meal. Let’s just sit and eat. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, if that’s what you want. But let’s just have our food, before it goes to waste. Please, K?”
“You’re not talking me out of this, this time.”
“That’s fine. Let’s just eat. And if you change your mind, then you change your mind. If not, then okay, we’ll be over.”
“Why are you being reasonable?”
“As I said: I’ve had a bad day. Two days.”
One more chance, she thought to herself, that’s all you get, and I don’t care how good that meal is, there had better be a good explanation for that crate, and your missing night, and even then there is still a very good chance this will be our last meal together.
There was nothing of that said during the meal, and Real was careful to not watch K too much. The bean curry was one of her favourites, not his, and the crushed and camouflaged drug hidden inside it was never going to be found, not with all that heavy spice. It was only a matter of time until she lost consciousness. He waited with all the patience he could manage, listening to her complaining about her work and her family, knowing that it would be the last time he would have to listen to her for a very long time.
* * * *
The rich man wondered why there was no security. He waited at the main gate for a while for someone to turn up. Although the wire fence was high and had barbed wire at the top, the gate was not only unlocked, it was wide open. He gave up waiting for a guard to come. Even if one had strolled by, by accident, eating a pie or two, and politely inquired who he was and what he wanted, that would have been good enough for him and he could relax. But there was no one at all.
On first sight, the ship was impressive, and far larger than he had seen in media clips. While it was true that this was the first genuine deep-space ship he had ever seen in person, it was more the thought of what ship it was: the famous Burning Star. He had been around a good number of famous people before, but this was the first time he was awe-struck. It was old, full of replacement parts, in need of cleaning, and slower than the latest ones, but it was still the best ship he had ever seen.
Two men were standing near a fuel tank, appearing to be operating it, but were more likely to be just leaning on it. They were in their late forties or early fifties, and were very dirty and overweight.
“And you must be the crew,” the rich man greeted them. “Morgan Calp. Let me shake your hands, and let you know how grateful I am of your services. This is quite an exercise, is it not? The Burning Star, no less. How fabulous.”
“You’re that rich guy?” Thax asked, unconcerned that someone had wandered near the ship without being stopped, or even noticed.
“Comfortable, I would say, and only that,” Morgan said, studying them both.
“So why be ye wanting to leave Earth, if ye be so comfortable?” Cuthbert asked, playing with him.
“He wants to know why you want to get aboard and fly into space,” said Thax.
“What opportunity there is in space,” said Morgan. “Your name?”
“Thax Wilson. That’s Cuthbert.”
“Thax is your given name? What is its origin?”
“Ask Cuthbert his real name,” Thax said as he turned and walked away. “Let him tell you all about it.”
“He gets a little touchy about his own name,” Cuthbert explained. “It’s Garrison, and mine is Arbus. Our mother enjoyed reading the classics. That’s what she told us, I guess, as a way to help us. But school was a nightmare, having names like that.”
“The authors Jeck Garrison and Wilson Arbus?”
“You know them, my hearty?”
“Excellent taste, from your mother.”
“So, you’re loaded, are ye? That would mean ye be bringing up-to-date machines with ye, would it not?”
“I have my people on that, but yes,” Morgan said, a bit pensive at the question, but he still felt the need to boast. “They will be upscale models, of course. How could they not be, given the place we’re about to make our way to?”
“And do our very best to watch over ‘em for the duration of the flight. Or I’ll tie the mainsail to a rabbit and watch it go hopping.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll do what?”
“We’ll take great care over your treasure, be sure of that.”
Morgan looked for the other one, unsure if Cuthbert was actually sane. “They are fully robotic and automated, and self-maintaining, so there is no need to watch over them, even in transit. Thank you, all the same.”
“It’s not your machines I was worrying about. It’s the ship, leaks and whatnot. You never know what’s in the deep; monsters or whatever. But no need to worry, you’re in good hands. Forget I mentioned it.”
Morgan noticed that Cuthbert was now being too friendly, and had toned down his pirate act. That not only made him suspicious, it also made him annoyed. “You are a member of the in-flight crew?”
“Yes, I am, me hearty.”
“Will you be staying with us on Ancia?”
“I am no colonist,” Cuthbert said with a suppressed laugh. We went to say something else but then changed his mind.
“That I am pleased to hear. And I shall require you to go nowhere near my machines, from the time they are loaded onto the ship, until the time they are off-loaded. That includes your brother and anyone else connected with this company. Are we clear, Cuthbert?”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect, squire,” Cuthbert replied with a slightly bemused tone.
“I am not interested in respect, only the wellbeing of my property,” Morgan pressed, wanting to show that he was not intimidated. He pondered for a moment and then added, “And that goes for my wife and children. Are we clear? Squire?”
The only answer Cuthbert made as he walked away was a slight chortle. Morgan watched him until he disappeared into the shadows, and wished he had never made the visit. As he left the dock he felt two pairs of eyes on his back. He then noted that there was a slight glow shining on the back of his hands, from long-range scanning equipment.
“Amateurs,” he sneered, knowing that he should have expected that, since they were cheap and suitably nasty. They were also his only alternative.
* * * *
Chera Flagstown was a wiry woman with long hair and a b
ig grin. She lived in a small one-room rented house with three other young women that she worked with at a local food store. She happened to be home only because she had recently broken up with her boyfriend and didn’t feel like going out on the town with her roommates, as they did every other evening. She had not seen Rolondo Rees for over a year.
“Left your wife?” she asked him from her door, not opening it any further than she had to in order to see him, suspicious of what he wanted. Occasionally she had seen him react violently, and she had wondered if he would ever act that way toward her. It seemed that every boyfriend she ever had was violent in some way. She seemed to attract those types.
“I’m going to Ancia,” Rolondo said from the path before the steps. He tried to say it without attracting attention. “Leaving in a few weeks.”
“Are you now? One of the chosen few? You’re here to rub that in?”
“I’d appreciate you not telling anyone. We’re not going through the normal channels, so we want to keep it quiet. Thing is, and why I’m here, Rebbi’s not going with me.”
“You haven’t left her? What are you doing here if you haven’t left her? Didn’t I make that clear? You can’t see both her and me. You made your choice, so we’ve got nothing to talk about.”
“I made the wrong choice.”
Chera saw that he was upset. Under his masculine surface, the man carried a broken heart. “You don’t say?”
“I’m here to make amends.”
Part of Chera wanted to see him suffer some more, to make up for what he did to her. “I don’t see you down on those flabby knees of yours.”
“Would you give me another chance? I have this great opportunity to go to Ancia, but I can’t go alone. This is not something I can drop, and just give up on. It’s the great paradise planet that everyone dreams of living on, and I actually found a way to get there. But not by myself. I need you to help me with this. You know it’s my dream to go there. I can’t imagine having another dream to take its place.”
Chera then realised what he was saying. It wasn’t the fact that he had come to her door with news that he was done with Rebbi, it was even greater news. He had somehow managed to attain the most elusive of tickets.
“You want me to go with you?” she asked, trying to not sound excited.
“That’s why I came.”
“To Ancia? You have tickets to Ancia?”
“Please keep it quiet,” he said as he glanced around the street.
Then something else dawned on her. “But only because your wife didn’t want to?”
“No, listen, it isn’t that simple,” Rolondo said, already prepared for that question. “It’s complicated, but yeah, you could say that. She’s so controlling, over everything I do, and I can’t do anything without her say-so. I knew the only way to get away from her was to do something drastic, like go live on Ancia. And I knew she would have none of that, but I convinced her not only to agree to it, but also make it seem like it was her idea. All the while, I knew she’d dive on the deal. And she has. Blame her family, but I know she just isn’t up to the challenge.”
“She refused? You’re saying she refused the chance to go to … that place?”
“And I’m good with it. Now I know she’s not the right gal for me. But I know someone else who is, who is up for the challenge of moving to a new planet. I know of someone else who will not balk over the thought of what a great opportunity this is, instead of concentrating on the negative. Someone who knows a good thing when it’s offered to her. A once in a lifetime. Not going to pass up on it.”
“And who’s that?”
“Little sassy thing, she is.”
“Me?”
“Think you can take the chance with me?”
Chera screamed with excitement, flung the door open and jumped at Rolondo from the doorway. He jarred his arm as he caught her and managed not to fall over as she madly kissed him.
* * * *
Dawn-Star took the time to visit him because there was no answer. TC had told her before, that this kind of worrying was inherited from her mother, certainly not from him. But she had called for the last four hours, every half-hour or so, to no answer, and she feared the worst; as if there was anything else she was going to do. TC’s office was above the main warehouse of the port facility that housed the Burning Star. It was dark now, and the Wilson brothers were nowhere to be seen. They were probably in their trailer, or at their girlfriends—they seldom went anywhere else unless someone was paying.
The door was wide open, and she went in, calling TC’s name. He didn’t answer because he had passed out. Most of the five empty bottles at the feet of his lazy chair had been there for a few weeks, but the sight gave Dawn-Star a fright.
“What’s this?” she asked, stunned. He had said, with his special father-daughter promise, to not touch another drop. To her that now felt as empty as one of the discarded bottles.
He quickly woke and stared without recognising her for a few seconds, before smiling. “It’s nothing. I can do what I want,” he slurred.
“You can’t make the flight like this.”
“Do you know how many flights I’ve made? I’ve gone out beyond the …” He thought he knew the name, and it was on the tip of his leathery tongue. Some place way out in distant space, impressive enough to convince her that he was a thoroughly capable pilot, if he could just remember what it was called.
“I’m going to cancel the flight.”
“You can’t do that.”
“There are children on the flight,” she reminded him, her voice breaking, upset at him. “You think you can endanger not only yourself and your passengers, but kids too? I’ll have the port authorities impound the ship.”
“You’re not touching my ship!” he yelled with sudden violence. “Get out!”
She did, hiding her tears.
He wanted to tell her that it was for her own protection, that she must not meddle, that the Bests were watching and they had very little humour regarding a plan that wasn’t theirs. But he quickly became groggy and was soon in a deep sleep. When he woke, five hours later, he remembered nothing of her visit, but wondered why he felt sad. He looked through his window to check the ship, and grimaced at the sight of it. Every now and then he would go to look at it and think of how that it was when it was pristine and new. When he saw it old and dirty, not only the result of too many flights, but also of neglect, he would feel angry. He would be angry at himself, for allowing the Wilson brother’s exclusive access to the preparing of the ship, even though he held little regard for their skills. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he liked having them around as a safeguard against the likes of Lars Best, and that was all.
* * * *
Two years ago, Morgan Calp had his sights set on expanding his real estate business by taking over a few small companies that had once belonged to his allies. It would have been a deal to set him up for life; one of the richest men in the city and poised to go nationwide. At that time he had envisioned his life two years future as living on his new estate with designer trees and swimming pools, servants everywhere and perhaps a new wife. Then the bad investments started, followed by some very unwise gambling. Instead of lying back on a masseuse’s bed, or watching a football game on a huge screen, he was sitting in a cold car ten years older than he would have preferred, watching a deserted street.
Then he saw a figure of a tall woman walk to the entrance of the port complex. She reminded him of Dawn-Star Beggs, but he wasn’t sure enough to go over there and see. After a short time, she was back, leaving quicker than she had arrived. Seeing he was right, and that it was her, Morgan hurried out of his car and ran over.
“Is there something wrong?” Morgan asked her, with enough insistence in his voice to make her stop.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, trying to act casually. “Actually, that’s untrue. We may need to stop the flight.”
“Suspend the flight, you mean? For how long?”
/> “I’m not sure about that.”
“Sure? You will need to be sure about it, young lady. More than sure. This is of no small importance to a lot of people. We have multiple investors, and you can’t go changing it without a good reason. Don’t you realise time is money? You can’t go saying you can’t be sure. You are either certain about what you’re doing or you need to find another line of work.”
Dawn-Star would never let anyone speak to her like that, and she didn’t listen to most of it, but she was feeling fearful of the situation. It was out of place for Morgan to be there alone at night, and her fear was that he might have been following her. Of all the passengers, he had been the hardest to figure out. A rich man like Morgan would have been expected to have contacts amongst UDE or other space companies, to get him and his family on a colony ship, but he had chosen to go with them. He did provide her with a genuine reason, when pressed, and none of the research she had done indicated anything out of the ordinary.
Morgan seemed to accept her non-answer, or maybe he had seen the fear in her eyes. As Dawn-Star returned to her car, she knew it was time for her to leave the entire operation. She told herself that when TC sobered up, she would tell him that she would no longer be helping him. Hopefully the old ship would run out of steam and not go anywhere, especially anywhere as restrictive as a military-controlled zone like Ancia, without anything like the correct clearance, hoping to sneak in undetected. The details of the actual landing had never been made clear. When he first told her about the idea, she had just accepted that he was not following the law. He had always been a maverick when it came to things like that. Space, he had told her ever since she was a girl, was a place entirely without laws, and no one had any right to own enforce their will on anyone else. She never knew exactly what it was he was talking about, but she knew that it was something that scared him.
Once in her car, she saw that Morgan was still watching her, still standing where he was when he had spoken to her. She shivered at the thought of meeting him again in his plush office to tell him that their deal was off. Finding the Rees would be easy, and so too would Real Munro, but Morgan gave her the feeling that he was almost as dangerous as the Bests.