Chapter 54 The Agent of Saint Bleyth
01
'Remember this isn't the Unity. I can't afford to replace any of you, so be careful, stay quiet and stick together,' I said, adding, 'And don't do anything I wouldn't do.'
'Yes, dad,' sighed Molaye rolling her eyes. 'We'll be home early.'
I gave her a stern glare which didn't make a dent in her, or anyone else in the shore party for that matter, Min, Rafe, Kie, Lili, Tenry and Vynnia.
Min grinned. She and Molaye had become friendly rivals, neither of them willing to concede that the other was bolder or braver than the other. Our final mark 7.1 acceleration was only a result of Riv or Lilm putting their foot down or my junior pilots would have no doubt pushed it to mark 8 or beyond.
Vynnia frowned, probably at me for allowing such flippant replies. 'I'll look after them, Captain,' she said.
'So will I,' added Tenry with a grin.
'If you ever want to see the Unity again, you'd better,' I said as the shuttle glided up to collect the shore party. They climbed on and went off with a merry wave.
I remained by the gig, still warm from its descent, and sighed. The sooner we put Zilantre and the drifts astern, the happier I'd be. Still, effects of the long passage and the disappearance of Dyn had to be dissipated ashore and Min felt we could afford a week or two in orbit to give everyone a needed break from the ship and routine.
I drew a deep breath of fresh sea-air and started off for the LinTin Hangar, one of the massive box-like hangars that circle the landing field with its orderly rows of rocket boats and lighters. CityOne Spaceport is set on a high, flattened island in a broad, island studded bay. Through the breaks in the line of hangars I could just catch sight of the blue sea and the day's last light shimmering off the dancing waves as the chain of suns set. Zilantre has four micro-suns. The lead sun was already below the horizon and the second within a finger's width, with the trailing one a hand's width above the deep blue line. The fourth micro-sun, the smallest, follows the other three half an orbit back acting as the planet's moon to provide a “moonlit” night, since the dead black cloud of the Myzar drift fills half the sky like a clutching black hand, leaving only two stars and some strands of glowing nebula to break the blackness of the night sky.
This was my first experience with a typical drift world, a planet in the style of the prehistoric idea of a solar system with the sun(s) orbiting the planet. Zilantre's micro-sun or so called lamp suns make a complete orbit once a day (by definition, I guess). All of them had been asteroids before being towed into orbit around Zilantre and imploded – igniting them like miniature suns that burn for three or four thousand years before needing replacements. I'm told there are hundreds of similar planets scattered about the drifts. And most of the larger drift communities without planet sized rocks also have lamp suns to keep the big night somewhat at bay.
Zilantre was just a frozen, sunless planet before a consortium of chartered mining companies decided to convert it into a supply and transshipment center for their far-flung trading, mining, refining, and foundry operations in this sector of the Myzar Drift. They began the process by towing and igniting half a dozen small asteroids to thaw the planet over the course of a thousand years while atmospheric engines were built to create a habitable atmosphere. Once the atmosphere was up and running, vast terraforming machines were brought in to craft a sustainable environment around the planet's tropics for the humans that were arriving to build farms, factories, warehouses, ship yards, and joy houses to serve as the far flung commercial enterprises of the great Chartered Trading Companies.
I was making my way to the LinTin Chartered Trading Company's hangar and port office to meet their port captain, Lenz deLin. Captain deLin and I had worked together over the course of several days unloading LinTin's two guard boats and auxiliary supplies and had gotten along well. He'd invited me to dinner at the Helm and Star Club where I'd have a chance to meet other captains and ship owners.
Other than worrying about my shipmates getting into trouble ashore, I was feeling pretty braced. We'd completed our delivery with everything in order. Despite having a nice, healthy credit balance, Min had decided not to make the engine repairs on Zilantre but to wait until we were back in the Unity and had a prospect of cargoes. We have none here, which, truth be told, didn't make me very sad. It meant we'd need to return to Aticor and the Unity with a chance of avoiding the drifts. Celin had sent a long radio packet with contact information and introductions to agents in that system which I hoped would give us an in, without having to do time in the drifts.
The lack of cargo prospects is due to the fact that the smoldering troubles which had brought us here with the four guard boats had flared into a full-fledged drift war during our passage out. One of the largest reef political entities in this region of the drift, the Confederacy of Despar decided to expand beyond its home reef, and is in the process of swallowing other smaller and less powerful independent communities as well as some Chartered Trading Company mines and factories using a large (by drift standards) navy and many commandeered trading ships. Beyond Zilantre, any ship not registered and licensed by the Despar Navy was subject to attack and seizure by the Despar Navy or any of its many wide-ranging letter of marque raiders. On the flip side, any ship registered and licensed by the Despar Navy was considered an enemy combatant by Despar's enemies and subject to attack and seizure. For this reason, prudent ship-owners, and most of the others as well, had decided to sit this war out and had laid up their ships in Zilantre orbit where there were enough CTC guard ships to deter even the Despar Navy. (They hoped.) As a result, there were well over a hundred tramp freighters, company transports and smaller drifteer traders in the orbital roadstead waiting for the war to burn itself out. It seems that we'd jumped from the frying pan into the fire as far as cargoes go. The silver lining was that it meant we'd not be going further into the drifts and had no recourse but to try our luck in the Aticor. It is for this reason that Min decided to sit on our credit balance, keeping it as a cushion against breaking into the Aticor trade. A decision I agreed with. A healthy credit balance is a nice thing to have, even if it meant nursing the engines a bit. And not having to deal with trading in the drifts was an asteroid dodged as far as I'm concerned. A million asteroids dodged.
I reached the edge of the field and since I was still early, leaned up against the wall to watch the last sun set over the sea as the sea birds whirled overhead and the waves tumbled over the rocks far below until Captain deLin found me. We signaled for a shuttle to take us to the transport hub at the land facing edge of the island and boarded a pod that whisked us across the bay to CityOne.
'They certainly built these tracks high enough, though I don't see a lot of boats about.' I remarked as we raced across the darkening waters for the low lights of CityOne. We had to be fully fifty meters over the water.
'That's on account of our storms. We don't have any real seasons, of course, but our polar regions are large and very cold. Since the micro-suns have to be placed in a fairly close orbit to circle the planet in something like a standard day, you can make the micro-suns big and hot and end up with the tropics too hot to live in or you can choose use smaller micro-suns so that the tropics are livable, as they did here, but that leaves the poles very cold. There are vast glaciers on either pole, and when the cold polar air mixes with the warm air of the tropics it creates lots of vortexes that bring very strong storms roaring down to CityOne. And with only a .5 gee standard gravity and deep seas, the winds will raise massive waves. Twenty, thirty meter or more waves are common. You'll notice even the large islands in the bay are just bare rock, swept bare year in and year out by the storms. So we have to keep our infrastructure out of the way of the storm waves. Even with fifty meter towers, the rails are sometimes swept by waves,' said deLin, adding, 'And we keep the bay full of islands to break the seas up somewhat before the waves reach the city.'
'Ah, so that's why the space port and the Strand promenade a
re fifty meters above the beach as well,' I said. 'I thought it very strange to have the Strand so high off the beach.'
'Aye, and don't think it doesn't come in useful at times...'
The ride was of only ten kilometers, so we were soon slowing for our stop at the Strand Station.
CityOne is for the most part, a low built city, with most buildings no more than four stories high and built of concrete and clear steel. Only the offices, factories and godowns of the major chartered trading companies rise high above the city. Sprawling factories spread out from the outskirts of the city, marking Zilantre as a drift world. You'll not find heavy industries on the planets of the Unity Charter. We use moons for that. Nor would you find the mines that dot Zilantre's livable tropics either, since they are also relegated to the moons and the drifts.
The Helm and Star Club is an establishment that caters exclusively to ship owners, captains and first mates. deLin had introduced me around several days ago, and we were stopping for dinner and a few drinks. I don't spend my nights off the ship, so I'd be going light on the drinks, but the cuisine – especially the (real) meat raised on Zilantre – was well worth dining downside. The synth-meat we can produce on board is not close to the real planet raised item.
We pushed through the first tap room, a large, low and noisy room filled with the chief mates off the ships in the roadstead and their guests. I glanced about for Vynnia and Tenry, but I (thankfully) didn't see them. Hopefully they'd stayed with the rest of the gang and steered them to one of the quieter establishments along the two kilometer stretch of the Strand devoted to entertaining spaceers. deLin lead the way through the crush of cheerful mates and out into the central courtyard, following the dim lit path to the back room, reserved for owners, their captains and guests. CityOne buildings, residences and business alike are built in hollow squares around enclosed courtyards that provide shelter from the gales during the frequent storms. Some share common walls, others stand alone, separated by narrow alleys. This courtyard was dark in the twilight under several old pines that grew in the yard, scenting the evening air with their rich tangy green spice.
The Senior Room of the Helm and Star, was the private preserve of the owners and captains of the ships laying idle in the roadstead gathered. It was an order of magnitude quieter and far less merry. Their idle ships left them little to be jolly about. We joined several of deLin's friends at their table – captains of ships either owned by LinTin CTC or who often did business with the firm. He introduced me to several captains I'd not met before and we ordered our drinks to wait for the rest of the usual suspects to arrive.
'I've a question,' I said to the table. 'I admit that almost all I know about the drifts comes from fiction, vids and old spaceer's tales, which, I suspect, exaggerate the dangers of the drifts a bit, but I had the impression that there is always a danger of being attacked by professional or occasional pirates in the drifts. So what makes the present situation so dire that your owners have laid their ships up instead of carrying on as usual?'
'Well, I'm certain the tales you've heard are mostly exaggerations.' began a grey haired captain by the name of Lively Livton. The Lively tag being ironic. 'I'm a hundred and fifty years old and have not had to beat off more than two dozen such attacks in my career. So you see that piracy is not all that common. What little there is of it, is mostly confined to small, local transport ships, mine tenders, prospector rigs and such. Those ships, more likely than not, are just creeping along, which makes them easy to come up on. And then, with little in the way of defensive missiles, easy to capture as well. Larger ships, faster ships like yours, running between distant points at higher velocities and armed with hundreds of anti-meteor missiles are mostly immune from pirates. In normal times, anyhow. Oh, there are plenty of ships out in the deep drifts that'll turn pirate if it looks to be a paying proposition, but well, there's a lot of drift, and it doesn't usually pay to lay awaiting for a likely ship to turn up. Could be months for some stations and the popular planets and stations don't take kindly to the practice and usually do something about it, so run of the mill pirates don't keep us awake at night worrying about 'em,' he said and paused to light his gaspeleaf pipe.
'What's different about these days,' he continued, 'is that them Despar folks have mobilized every ship they can lay their hands on and have sent them out to act as commerce raiders – a polite word for pirates. They install a missile battery in the ship's hold, staff the ship with a couple of their Navy folk to man these weapons and make certain things are done Despar Navy style and sent them off to haunt the approaches of the reefs and planets they have their eyes on. Now these ships are better armed than your run of the mill drift pirate, and the planets or stations they're haunting, are either under attack from Despar, or desperately trying to avoid that fate, so they're not likely to kick about pirates in the offing. You can sail to Vindare and sleep like a baby the whole passage. It's hard for any pirate to locate you in the drift, and build enough velocity to come alongside while you're at cruising speed. But in your final approach to the Vindare reef, when you're decelerating hard to make a known point in space, you'd likely encounter several of their raiders awaiting to fling salvos of missiles at you and good luck with that. Despar may have been jumping mining claims and ships on the sly for decades, but now they're out for bigger game and hunting in packs. Rumor has it they're attempting to capture the whole Boscone Reef itself with half the Despar navy.'
'And that's not the half of it, Willie,' added Captain Blackie Bright. 'The Neb-blasted problem is that we don't know how this is going to play out. You can register your ship with Despar and trade within the drift their Confederacy controls, without too much danger. Despar's enemies are sending out occasional raiders, but they're few and far between. They've their hands full just trying to keep Despar's raiders out of their own orbit. Or so Despar would have you believe, least ways. But truth be told, it's far from certain that Despar is going to win this war. They've gone and made a lot of enemies, big and little, rich and poor. And there ain't a lot of trade coming out of the drifts these days, so that eventually the war'll wind down once missiles, supplies, and credits are exhausted. Despar needs to win before that happens or they lose. And there are those boats you just brought in with others on the way. They may well tip the balance against Despar. And I'm wondering if they were all that smart jumping all those CTC stations and attacking CTC ships.'
'Unless the companies decide it's cheaper to cut a deal with Admiral Dre Rodine, the Confederacy's big leader,' piped in Captain Maulie. 'In which case we'll all have Despar tickets...'
'So, you see, it's simply too soon to know how it'll turn out. And well, our owners are looking at decades of trading ahead so they're reluctant to commit to any one side, afraid of ending up on the losing side and finding themselves unwelcome in this sector. It's tough enough trading without being branded a former enemy. All in all, it seems prudent to sit this fracas out and be ready to trade again when things settle down,' added Captain Bright, 'If they do.'
'Ships are being laid up all over the Myzar beyond the reefs under attack,' continued Captain Maulie. 'Not much going in. They can fight only so long before they run out of missiles and credits to buy them, even if they could find the ships to bring them in. So it can't last for more than another six months or so before it has to burn itself out. Either Despar wins or they have to toss in their hand and settle – somehow. It'll be a Neb-bloody mess. All I can say is that when things settle down, mate, they'll find shipping rates will have gone up considerably. All we have to do is to wait it out together...'
'Maulie's our sunny optimist,' said Blackie Bright, adding, 'I'm thinking it could go on for years. Dre Rodine has a reputation for being both bright and ruthless. He's no fool, and wouldn't have started this if he didn't think he could finish it.' Which brought several grim nods and 'Ayes' for the table.
'You ain't thinking of going in?' asked Lively, looking sharply at me.
'Not a chance,' I quickly
assured them. 'This is all the drifts I need to see with or without a war. I'm taking the ship to Aticor, hollow if need be, and soon. I've no interest in seeing a drift war up close and personal.'
'It'll be hollow,' said deLin. 'With all the troubles, our godowns here are empty and who knows when they'll start filling up again. The drifts are vast and our companies have operations all through them, so that our troubles can look pretty small from our First Worlds' headquarters. The additional guard boats may be the extent of their concern...'
'I figured as much, I'll gladly take her out hollow. No offense, mates, but you're welcome to the drifts. It's the planetary trade I know, and the planetary trade is where I intend to stay.'
02
I left before things got too morose, which is sometime after their third tall glass of Ram Rock Rum. I slipped out into the cool night air, crossed the crowded Strand to the sea side wall to clear my head of Ram Rock fumes and gathered my wits about me. It was still early and the wide Strand was swarming with idled spaceers off of the hundred ships in orbit. Groups of spaceers – three to a dozen strong strolled by talking and laughing loudly. Spaceers, arm in arm with their companion or joy house human, hurried past on their way to their rendezvous, and solitary figures stalked by seeking a mate or their next port of call along the long street. But I noted too a darker undercurrent amongst the flow of brightly intoxicated spaceers – grim, hungry looking groups and hunched figures that just drifted in the flow or haunted the dark corners. This was the drifts, and only a minority of the spaceers, those off CTC owned ships, were Guild members with Guild unemployment credits. Most of the others would be drifteers and unlikely to have any regular source of credits, or money (tokens of credits that they use in the drifts) coming their way once they'd been paid off and spent through their wages. Hopefully they'd get by with borrowing from their more frugal mates but I'd my doubts. I slipped my hand into my coat pocket just to make sure my brand new darter was still there. It was. The armored jacket I bought had a special inner pocket to hold darters and spare clips.
In the drifts, the darter replaces the billy-blade as the spaceer's weapon of choice. As long as the darters are loaded with non-lethal darts they're actually better than billy-blades – the victims, for the most part, wake up with only headaches instead of bruised limbs and broken bones.
Since we were in the drifts, it made sense for those of us who didn't own a darter – only Molaye, Kie Min and myself, all the old hands had one tucked away in their space chests – to acquire one. As soon as we were free of offloading our cargo, Tenry took us down to an armorer shop off the Strand to pick one out. Darters come in all manner of shapes, sizes and configurations. The plasma darts themselves come in 1, 2, and 4 mm calibers with 1mm's being non-lethal, 2mm having both non-lethal and lethal charges and 4mm used for punching through spacesuits and heavy armor – the pirate's weapon of choice, at least in the vids and stories. The dart consists of a head, 1, 2, or 4mm in diameter which may or may not have an armor piercing point. The head is a super capacitor that's given its charge as it's launched. This head is mounted on a 2 to 5 cm long needle drive shaft that the darter's impeller beam uses to drive and direct the dart in flight, this shaft is surrounded by a soft wrap just to level it up with the capacitor head and make for easy handling in the clip. The capacitor is charged just prior to firing and driven along the impeller beam to the target where the entire dart disintegrates and discharges a burst of plasma that either disrupts the nervous system to stun or knock unconscious the target up to several hours, or fries the nervous system, killing the target.
I picked up a small, very flat 1mm darter that holds two clips, one to for regular darts and one for armor piercing, both non-lethal. It fits unobtrusively in my pocket and holds five hundred darts per clip. Tenry says it's known as a sissy darter or just a sissy. For some reason. Molaye, on the other hand, went right for a wicked looking 4 mm multi-caliber full range darter, (a pirate piece) that was so big she'd have wear it in a holster on her hip. Tenry managed to convince her that people who go about with darters on their hips often find themselves in arguments with other people who wear darters on their hips, and unless they've very good with darters, end up with very bad headaches, holes in them, or not at all. He advised her that until she was that good, she might want to choose a less obvious weapon. She picked out a second darter, 2mm pocket-able universal to hold her over until she'd practiced enough with her pirate piece to wear it. Both Kie and Min picked up small 2mm universals, though Min bought a rather expensive piece.
I noticed that they had phantom-glass knives with sheaths in the shop, so I stopped back later with my captured phantom-glass knife and matched it with a sheath made of similar material. The sheath had an indent matching the knife so you could fit the knife in flat and wrap the whole sheath and knife around an arm or leg where it wouldn't show. I've mine above my ankle. Haven't a clue as to what I'd ever do with it, but from the space adventure vids and books I've seen and read, I felt I needed it. This was the drifts, after all.
We also stopped at a haberdasher to add to our armored wardrobe, though that gets complicated real fast. Darters should be programed not to allow fire at heads and the heart region, though, of course they can be hacked to ignore those limits. At any rate, since most spaceers wear some sort of armored clothing and often layers of it, everyone uses armor piercing darts. My darter fires both – half press on the trigger sends a regular, and a full press sends an armor piercing one behind it. So unless you wear three or four layers of armored clothing (which a 4mm dart would penetrate anyway), armor doesn’t give you a great deal of protection – a lethal dart anywhere in you kills you – it does, however, prevent armor piercing darts from putting 2mm holes through you if you're not wearing any armor. And yet, under certain circumstances you might want exactly that. For instance, if you'd armored trousers, and got hit by an armor piercing dart, it would penetrate and discharge in you, either killing you or knocking you out. If, however, if the trousers aren't armored the armor-piercing dart would've flown through your leg (painful, but hardly fatal) without discharging and you'd have a chance to respond. So how do you choose? I didn't see how you could win, so I just added a vest that could be worn under any jacket and vowed not to get into a situation where I'd need to worry about it.
I see I've gone off on a tangent here, so I'd best get on with my yarn.
Once I cleared my head, I set out for the Strand Station to hop a pod back to the space port and up to the ship. I wasn't too concerned about the dark undercurrents – it was still early and there were too many cheerful spaceers about ready to lend a hand if anything got nasty.
'Good evening, Captain Litang,' she said in a bright and cheery voice, slipping her arm in between mine and swinging in step beside me. Startled, I glanced aside. Not what I expected. She was a wrinkled old spaceer in a long black coat. She gave me a knowing grin as her bright sharp grey eyes, just visible in the shadow under the bill of her well-worn cap, watched me. The circled comet badge proclaimed her to be a chief engineer. A rather forward one, I thought.
'Good evening, Chief,' I replied cautiously. 'Have we met?' And responding to a taunting, her ram you damn you smile, added, 'I'm certain I'd have remembered you if we had. Do you have a name?'
'Thank you, Wil, my dear. But we haven't, though we have a mutual acquaintance.'
'Captain deLin?' I couldn't think of anyone else.
'No. We can go into the who of it later, if you like. Right now you and I have some business to discuss. Business of a rather confidential nature, I should add. It'd be best if we retire to my private room just up the Strand a ways. I realize this is a rather unconventional course, but I assure you it's a true one. I've an offer you'll find too lucrative to give it a go by,' she said, adding with a laugh. 'And just so there's no misunderstanding, I'm talking about a lucrative charter, my dear Captain Litang, nothing more...'
This was getting weirder by the moment. I gave her a hard look. 'Into the dr
ifts?' It wasn't much of a question.
'Yes,' she replied readily, watching me. 'To Boscone Reef.'
'I believe Boscone was mentioned this evening... Ah yes, I remember. It was used as an example of where Despar privateers are found lurking in great numbers to greet you with a swarm of missiles. An unhealthy place at the moment. Not interested, Chief, whoever or whatever you are... I seemed to have missed your name.'
'In good time, Captain. And, aye, I'll not lie to you. Despar raiders are indeed to be found about the Boscone Reef. However, I don't believe you'll really have a choice. Owners are so greedy, aren't they? I'm offering a very handsome profit with a minimum of risk. It's your duty to listen to my proposal and take it to your owner. It'll be for her to decide. I'd have talked to her myself, but you're an easier mark.'
That struck me as wrong. I gave her a closer look. She shouldn't have known that our official owner Spectre Holdings had a female pronoun. Or that our owner was on board and here.
'I know my duties. I've my orders and taking my ship into the drifts, things being the way they are, has been ruled out. Sorry, but there are a hundred other ships in orbit that may be interested, if your offer is really that lucrative. Thanks, but I must be going,' I added, trying to free my arm from her grip.
She grabbed my wrist and didn't let go. 'I insist Litang.'
'I think not. Let's not make a scene about it.'
'You're right,' she snapped and with a lunge, and using her shoulder, drove me into the dark narrow alley we were passing.
I hit the wall with a 'Uff!' I tried to push her off with my free arm, but the alley got suddenly darker as two large figures followed us in. I can't swear I saw the blue light of plasma discharge as one of the figures pressed a stunner against the side of my neck, but for the sake of consistency, let's say I did, just before I lost consciousness.
03
She, or as it turned out, he, was watching me from the arm rest of a chair across a small carpet when I opened my eyes again, sometime later, absently twirling my new darter on a finger. He smiled, his lips still colored, giving him a sexually ambiguous look. He'd removed the grey wig, and the wrinkles on his face. His own hair was rather long and dark red and was still tied up in back. Without the make up on, he looked trim and fit enough, a century younger.
'A small point, my dear Captain Litang, don't walk out with a pal arm in arm on the side you keep your darter. Makes it so very awkward to get it out in a hurry when you need it.'
'Thanks, I'll remember that. Though I think the next time, just to be on the safe side, I'll simply shoot the person who decides to walk arm in arm with me without asking. I believe I can do that in the drifts, can't I?' I remarked, rubbing my forehead to drive away the pain and clear my thoughts.
'You can do just about anything in the drifts, but consequences inevitably follow, even in the drifts,' he replied brightly.
Who are you? What do you want? And why the masquerade?'
'Pardon me for being so rude. I am Captain Leith D'Lay, currently employed in the service of the Boscone Corporation. As for the masquerade, well, Zilantre is a hot bed of intrigue and I thought it best not to show my face, and certainly not with you. For your safety, I might add.'
'Thanks, but I've a feeling it would've been better if you stayed away entirely.'
'Alas, all too true. But duty drives, and I need your ship. I've pressing cargo that I must deliver to Boscone.' he shrugged and smiled brightly. 'But I am offering to charter her.'
I swung my legs off the settee and prepared to stand. 'Wrong choice. We're sailing for Aticor. Try your luck with someone else. There's plenty of ships to choose from overhead.'
He shrugged and tossed my brand new darter to me. I managed to snatch it before it bounced off my forehead and aimed it at him.
He flashed me a glimpse of the darter's clips in his hand and said, 'I'll make us a cup of cha and we can talk. Just relax, my dear Wil. You're in no danger from me, and we do need to talk.'
'No danger? You just got through darting and kidnapping me, D'Lay.'
'For your safety, I assure you,' he said and turned to the simple sideboard with the cha making equipment.
I pocketed my useless darter – and made a mental note to carry extra clips with me – and looked about the room. It was obviously a room used for meetings other than the business of chartering ships – it had a small sitting area with a cozy settee, chair, and low table, the cha table and a large bed. There was a window or door behind me that may have led to a balcony, and a second door before me.
'I am sorry about the nature of the invite, but I've a pressing need for a ship, and your ship is ideal, right down to the fact that you're planning to sail hollow for Aticor. All the other ships in the roadstead are either CTC chartered ships or drifteers. The CTC charters aren't available and the drifteers need to make a living in the drifts after this affair is over so they'd bitterly object to me getting them involved in the conflict. You, on the other hand, don't have to make a living in the drifts, and I'm certain we can reach a mutually agreeable fee. Besides, I can trust you with your Unity habit of doing business on the up and up. I couldn't trust any drifteer I might be able to persuade, for, you see, I've a very valuable cargo – and while I'm certain I could handle them, it might result in unacceptable delays.'
'What sort of cargo do you have, and why is it so pressing? If I'm allowed to know, that is.'
'Eight Omni-V jump fighters, crews and service people who've been engaged by the Boscone Corporation to lift Despar's siege of their asteroid reef. They're rather desperate and have the credits to pay for very expensive services, so I need to expedite my delivery.''
'Omni-V jump fighters are a type of war craft; I assume'
'Yes, very effective ones in close combat. Small, but extremely maneuverable when piloted by well-trained pilots like mine. They're almost impossible to hit with any sort of anti-ship missiles since they can jump out of the way faster than any missile can adjust its course. They'll simply run through and mop up the riffraff forces of Despar around Boscone at the moment. However, they're short range boats and need to be transported to the battle area.'
'And you don't have a transport. Rather poor planning.'
He glanced back at me darkly, 'I had the services of a ship, Captain. One of the Order's multipurpose ships. However, word of my intent must have leaked – I suspect someone in the Order's administration with personal ties to someone working for Despar tipped them off. Quite against the rules, but what can I do? In any event, we were jumped in mid-course by six regular Despar Navy frigates. We fought them off, destroying two, chasing the survivors away damaged, but alas, the Striker sustained several missile hits in her engine room and we're now too damaged to make it to the Boscone Reef without repairs. I don't have time to make repairs. I need a substitute ship. Yours, in fact. We'll rendezvous with my ship and transfer the jump fighters, pilots and flight crews to your ship and continue on to Boscone. Usually it's a passage of thirty-four days or so. But to get everything in place I'll charter the Lost Star for fifty days.'
'Assuming we make Boscone, how do we get back out again, or will we be trapped for the duration?'
'Oh, trust me, Willy, there won't be a Despar ship left within days after my arrival, and I'm certain I can guarantee you a well-paying cargo to Aticor as well. A lot of ore has been accumulating because of the war,' he said, bringing a tray with the cha pot and two cups and set it down on a low table next to the settee. He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a ChequeToken and set it down beside my cup. 'For passage to Boscone.'
I reached out to pick it up to read its amount. I tried, but probably failed not to gasp. The amount represented a year's profit in the planetary trade. A very good year. It was made out to The White Bird Line. I looked up at D'Lay and managed to say, 'Impressive. But you can't spend it dead.'
'I'll get you in and out alive, Captain. No fear of that. As for the charter fee, well, Boscone can afford it. It is t
he largest and richest reef between Aticor and Amdia. A company reef that leases mining rights and factories to all of the Unity's largest chartered companies. They can afford that fee a hundred times over without blinking. Of course paying you is cutting into the Order's profits, but it is necessary. I need someone I can trust,' he added as he sat down in a chair across from the low table and poured out two cups of cha. Taking one in his in his hands, he settled back into his chair and took a sip, watching me.
'Who are you, and what is this Order you're talking about?' I asked, making no move for the other cup of cha.
'I'm a tactician of the Order of Saint Bleyth,' he said after a sip or two. 'A very ancient and very secret spiritual society, though we're best known outside for the martial arts services we hire ourselves out for. We're rather well known in this quarter of the drifts, and we appear in the Nebula's fiction under various guises. Our services are sought out by those in need of one branch of martial arts or another. To put it plainly, we're specialists for hire, mercenaries, if you want to be snooty about it. We're much more than that, but as a secret order, that's what we're known in the Nebula for.
'The Boscone Co-op has engaged the Order's Fleet Services Division to defend and defeat the Despar space forces which are currently blockading and laying siege to Boscone Reef. I've drawn the assignment to direct the relief operation. I have under my command a mix of Order and freelance jump boat pilots. The free lancers are mostly ex-Patrol, and with the Order's jump boats and the Striker, acting as their tender, I was on my way to Boscone when we were ambushed. As I'm sure you can imagine, it is extremely unlikely that we could've been ambushed in passage without our enemies knowing the exact time of our departure and our exact destination. While I don't know for certain, it's likely that Despar has also hired some of our services as well, and as I said, I suspect that someone high up in the Order with personal ties to the agent working for Despar must've tipped them off about my mission and given them enough information to ambush me. I can think of no other explanation. In any event, I am, you see, still honor bound to perform the services I've been hired to do, at any cost, hence my rather insistent invitation to this little chat. Since the six Despar ships that jumped us did not kill me and my crew, I've no excuse not to get my crew to Boscone as expeditiously as possible. Which means, in essence, your ship.'
'Sorry, I've no intention of involving my ship in this drift war.'
'It's your duty to take that ChequeToken to Tallith Min, my dear Litang. It is actually her ship, after all, and I'm sure you know your duty. Tell her it's a charter fee to carry my pilots, support crew and skip fighters to Boscone. That's all you have to do. We'll use your cargo holds as our operational base in passage and we'll actively escort your ship the whole way in. You'll be the safest ship in all the drifts, Captain. You may well see action during our approach to the Boscone Reef, but it'll but only at a safe distance. My pilots and fighters can handle anything Despar has about the reef and keep them well at bay. We can handle anything Despar can throw against us anywhere.'
'What of your damaged ship? Talk is cheap, D'Lay.'
He scowled. 'Point taken, Captain. Still, at six regular Despar navy vessels to one, Captain Krajik's Striker and my fighters when launched made a respectable showing. Truth is we hadn't expected to be attacked that far from Boscone and I didn't have my fighters deployed. My mistake. I've learned from it. My fighters will be deployed the whole voyage. We've our own living quarters, a double container fitted as the crew quarters and control center. We'll transfer it over to one of your holds so you'll not have to put up with us in any way besides carrying us in your cargo hold. We can fit all eight fighters, the crew quarters in one hold and use a second for the munition containers,' he said, and took a sip of cha.
'Munitions too...'
'And lots of them. We'll have to keep you quite safe...' he said with a smile.
I picked up the cup before me and took a sip of cha, thinking hard. There was something wrong. If this was the ad hoc option he was making it out to be, he knew too much about us.
'How did you know my owner's name?' I asked, watching him.
He smiled. 'Oh I've read the reports of a mutual acquaintance.'
'And who would that be?' but even as I asked it began to dawn on me.
'Sister Naylea Cin, though I believe you know her as Nadine,' he said, enjoying my awakening alarm.
'Your sister...'
'Only in the order. She's also a member of the Order of Saint Bleyth just as I am. Different branch of martial arts. I'm a tactician, Cin is a stealth. We come from different families and have different specialties. My family's mostly known for our military specialists. I'm an expert in space battles. Her family's famous for their solo agents who specialize is spying, theft, assassinations and other stealthy things. Other families in the martial arts specialize in weapons, technology, economics or logistics. Of course we've a full range of specialties, scientists, engineers, philosophers, farmers and artists, but we in the martial arts rather look down on them. Quite the snobs, we are.'
'How could you think I'm crazy enough to have anything to do with some Order that's trying to kill me – and my owner? I'd be mad to do that.'
'Actually, it's in your best interest. I've a priority interest in you. My need trumps Cin's. It is a bit awkward for me to be hiring you while another branch of my Order is trying to kill you, but there are very mixed lines running all though this conflict. I'm almost certainly facing brothers or sisters in the Order hired by Despar – who are not above cheating... While I can do nothing about Cin and her orders, I can and will do everything in my power to keep you safe – for my purposes.'
'There's no way I can take you on board to meet my owner, given what you've just told me.'
'If I was any danger to you or your owner, why would I mention it at all? I needn't have, you know.'
'Pure arrogance would be my first guess,' I muttered, but let it pass for the moment. I had other questions of a more pressing nature, 'Who hired this Cin, and why?'
He shrugged, 'I've no idea. And couldn't say if I did. Sister Cin doesn't know either. Those are matters settled by the Masters of the Monastery, far above us simple brothers and sisters. It doesn't matter. She's been assigned to kill you and your owner or die trying. It's as simple as that. She doesn't need to know for whom. I, on the other hand, need you and your owner's willing service, so that I'll be doing everything I can to protect you while you're under my charter. That in itself is worth something, ol'dear.'
I didn't believe that for a moment, but let it pass unchallenged, just in case he wasn't lying. I took a sip of cha and tried to find a clear course.
'She was good, you know,' he continued after another sip of his cha. 'Cin was once considered one of the very best and brightest of our young stealth talents. She wouldn't have been sent to work in the Unity if she wasn't. Only the best are sent there, given how very hard it is to do her type of work successfully within the Unity. But you rather wrecked her career, Willy. One failure is, well, tolerated. A second or a third is something else... Having failed to kill you three times has likely put an end to her career as a prime agent. Oh, she's still been kept on the assignment – a lesson perhaps – but even if she succeeds, and that seems unlikely in the foreseeable future,' he smiled, 'I rather doubt she'll be used again for anything more than a hired out enforcer for some gang in the Unity underworld...at best,' he took another sip of cha. 'A shame, really.'
'I'd wish her a far direr fate than that,'
He smiled and shrugged, 'That'll be up to you or your owner.'
He paused and added, 'I find her failure very unexpected. We attended the academy together, so I know her well. She was very, very good, even – clever, daring, ruthless. A perfect Stealth. Naylea Cin never met a rule she didn't dare to break. From the age of eleven, when she entered the academy, until she graduated ten years later, there wasn't a rule she didn't break or bend out of recognition. She was quite the hero of our class... Fo
r a while, anyway.'
'You forgot to mention her love of cruelty. That'd hardly win friends, even in your Order.'
'Ah, yes, have a taste of it, did you? But you're right, of course. She did rather have a taste for pain, though we didn't realize that at first. The thing was that she was always willing to take anyone along on her adventures outside the rules, and we were all eager enough to join her, knowing her reputation for success. But well, sometimes her plans may've been too daring and would go adrift, and culprits would be caught. All except Cin, that is. Things never got so far adrift that she was caught. No, not in all her years in the academy. Oh, our masters knew what she was up to, most of it anyway, but they never could catch her at it. For the rest of us, that was a different story. Our code of honor forbids us to tattle on Cin, even though some of us suspected that sometimes things went wrong more or less by design, leaving us, but never Cin, to pay for those misadventures with a taste of the lash.
'Ah, the days of our youth, stripped to the waist in the Academy Square waiting to take our punishment in the cold morning air in front of all our classmates, while Cin, ever so innocently stood amongst them – serious faced, but with laughing eyes – never stepping forward to declare her part in the infraction. To be fair, those were her terms and we all agreed to them at the outset, but still, that didn't make the pain any more pleasant, for us anyway.
'Early on our masters tried a little trick. They made Cin administer the punishment for the misfired adventure she'd led her fellow students on, or into... I suppose our masters hoped to be able to issue some sort of reprimand for going lightly on her comrades in misadventure. Little did they know. I think she ended up with a warning for laying into them too enthusiastically. Cin always enjoyed punishment. Ours anyway. So as you suggested, little wonder she had no friends by the time we graduated.
'But enough old school gossip. You, my dear Captain Litang, have done what no one else had been able to do until now. You've set her plans adrift and there's no one to take the lash but her. She's honor bound to follow you and Min across the Nebula until she kills you or dies trying,' he shook her head. 'Even now, she'll be making her way here, somehow, or to wherever she thinks you might turn up next...' He smiled at the thought and looked me in the eyes and said simply, 'I owe you something for that Litang, if only this advice, if you ever have the chance, kill her. Don't hesitate for a second – it will be in self-defense, even if you strike first – as indeed, you should, if you hope to succeed. If you've any desire to live, you must kill her, for she'll kill you and your owner if you don't. And I should add that you'd best use several lethal darts as well. Some stealths have D-matter nano-wires and capacitors implanted to absorb a portion of the plasma dart's electrical charge, rendering lethal darts, non-lethal and non-lethal ones much less effective. And if your Unity Standard ethics give you pause, just know that you might actually be doing her a favor by killing her, the order is not sympathetic to failure.'
'I've little incentive to do her a favor, but I do want to live. Still, even if I kill her, wouldn't it just mean that the Order would send out another assassin in her place... If they haven't done so already?' I added, giving him a hard glare.
He shrugged. 'Yes. Maybe. It is hard to say. Those matters are decided by our Masters within the various operational directorates. They might decide to cut their losses at having lost the reliable services of a first class operative and having to chase you across the nebula and just return the client's retainer, but it's not my bailiwick so I can't really say. '
'Which brings us around to your bailiwick. You're a member of the same organization. How can I trust you not to do Cin a favor when the time is right?'
'First off, I'm not involved with that side of our business. As I said, it's neither my department nor concern. Nor is it the type of job I care to do. I'm a soldier, not an assassin. The fact of the matter is that it might be my protection that's keeping you alive.'
'How so?'
'Can't claim to know that for a fact, but I do know that my assignment is far more lucrative to the Monastery than your assassination, so that my need of your services has priority over any assassination. Cin is likely still in transit somewhere as far as I know, but here in the drifts, the bar is considerably lower when it comes to things like assassination. You don't need an agent of Cin's level to do the job in the drifts. And you've been here long enough to have been targeted if our Masters had wanted you, and your owner killed. Still, you're not out of danger, there are likely plenty of people here who would love to put a spanner in my assignment, and killing you would be one way.'
'You're not making me feel very comfortable.'
'I don't want you comfortable, I want you on guard constantly. However, I need you and your services, so I'll try my best to keep you safe.'
Until you no longer need me, I thought, but only said, 'I'd appreciate that, especially since most of those people who might want me dead, want me dead only because it might put a spanner in your assignment.'
He grinned. 'True. It's a tangled web we weave. You see, Captain, since we hire out our services to all, to maintain our reputation we must containerize each of our obligations. In large scale conflict, like the current drift war, we likely have operatives working on both sides of the conflict and if thrust comes to blast, we may have to deal a lethal blow to a fellow brother or sister of the Order. Hopefully, it would be no one we know well, but that's in the hands of fate and the Masters of the Monastery. As I said, I wouldn't be surprised to discover that not only was the ambush arranged by a brother or sister of St Bleyth, but that the Despar ships were commanded by another tactician of St Bleyth. Moreover, I'm certain that Despar has operatives on Zilantre – likely many of them since Zilantre's a hot bed of intrigue – who may also be under the direction of another stealth of St Bleyth. That's why I went to such distasteful lengths to hide my presence here,' he indicated the discarded grey wig with a little wave of his hand. 'I can be quite dashing in red hair and heels, but, I didn't care to call attention to myself this time. So it was all low key, and well, rather abrupt and rude as well. Knowing just how good we are and how likely some of my brethren are operating here, I didn't care to take chances with your life or mine by making a scene.'
A cross dressing tactician was likely to draw attention, red hair or not, I thought. Still his rather elegant mannerism did little to hide the icy steel in his eyes. So I contented myself with a question. 'You know a great deal about Min and me. How did you come by this if that operation isn't in your bailiwick?'
'As I mentioned, my assignment has a high priority, so as soon as I arrived two days ago, I communicated my plight, urgency, and my proposed response – chartering the Lost Star. The Monastery felt that releasing faithful Cin's damning reports of her encounters with you might offer some insight into gaining your cooperation.'
I laughed, 'And did it? I can't see any special touch you used, unless it was using a stun dart to get me to somewhere for a quiet talk. That seems to be the one standard procedure.'
He shrugged and smiled, 'Perhaps. But Cin had you in bed, my dear Captain. I've only had you up for a cup of cha... Be that as it may, I may've been a little too free with all the tattle I've dished about Cin, but I'd rather have all that on the table – and, mind you, just between us – than for you to find out about our connection in some other manner. I hope you'll appreciate how up-front I've been about this particularly awkward situation and by being so, gain your complete confidence.'
I nodded, 'It has been informative,' I offered guardedly.
He shrugged. 'Enough of this pleasant chit-chat, unless you'd like another cup of cha, or have more questions, I'd like to get you on your way. You know all you need to know for now, and the less disruption there is in your routine, the safer we'll all be. Let me say again, you do need to be very careful from here on. I'd advise you to stay aboard your ship if you can. If word gets out that I've been here, my enemies will certainly suspect that it's your ship I need and tak
e appropriate action. But then, that's what I'm paying so handsomely for.'
I looked down on the ChequeToken. Owners don't turn that type of credit down, not ones with an engine that needed to be relined. I sighed, and looked up. 'Do I have your word on your honor that of Saint Bleyth that you will not kill Tallith Min or me, or turn us over to this Cin to do the job?'
'Yes, and I'll go further, I'll do everything in my power to keep you alive not only until we reach Boscone but long enough for you to make your escape, even if means trouble with my Masters. I suspect I'll be under pressure of some sort once I've reached Boscone, but I'll see you off safely. I've no love for Cin and no obligation to help her, and seeing that I may well've been betrayed somewhere high up in the Order, perhaps by one of the Masters, which is something completely out of order, I'll defy them if needed to allow you to clear Boscone' he said. 'But once out of my protection, you're on your own.'
I nodded. Well, it'd not be my decision in the end. 'I suppose I must take your proposal to Min. I assure you I will do my damn best to convince her to sail to Aticor hollow, though I doubt I'll succeed.'
'I rather doubt it myself,' he said with a smile. 'But don't worry – if you can survive Cin, you'll get to Boscone and back to the Unity without trouble.'
'I was lucky.' I said standing to leave.
'That works. Or perhaps it was a matter of karma. Yours over hers,' he replied, handing my darter clips over to me. I slotted it back into my darter and slipped it back into its pocket.
'I rather doubt assassins have a great deal of karma, so if it was a matter of karma, assassins would never succeed.'
'But then they'd have more karma,' laughed D'Lay, who grew serious. 'Now Captain, I've taken every precaution I know to keep my presence here and this meeting secret. But if my opposite number – whoever it be – has reasons to suspect you're about to aid Despar's enemies, you and your crews' lives are in danger. I'd advise you to put an end to all shore leave and depart for Aticor hollow just as soon as you can clear. Head out and operate under power for one day. I'll rendezvous with you five days out and lead you to the Striker...'
'How can I contact you?'
'Don't. I'll know when you sail and when you deposit that ChequeToken in your account, and take it as a yes to my proposal. I'll follow you out to make the rendezvous...'
I nodded and headed for the door, followed by a smiling Captain D'Lay. As I reached the door, I felt a sudden need to make a point. I spun half about and grabbed him by his coat and pulled him close. His eyes widened just a little and grew cold.
'Just so we have an understanding. If anyone of my crew suffers as a result of this meeting, I'm holding you responsible. I'll hire your best friend, your lover if you have one, to kill you. Trust me, D'Lay, I can afford whatever it takes to make that happen. I'm a dead man, and you'll be joining me. No unexpected ambushes no screw ups, this time,' I added fiercely. I pushed him away, and slipped out the door, between his two hulking crew members. I was shaking as I walked down the stairs, through the scented court yard and out of the joy house to find myself in a dim lane just off the busy Strand. Still, I found that even I can be pushed too hard.