0 comments/ 12013 views/ 1 favorites Rider Express By: martincain UM-3/ Avalon Hills of snow were melting as furious Gale slowly abated and the continent passed into Sede. Kray and four others in the squad he’d drawn from the company; Harley, Amhatiens, Elroy, and Booster hunkered down behind a low hill running alongside a beige, fibrocrete river that meandered across the bombarded, cratered landscape- the vehicle access running from Freeport to Solstice. “Command knows what they’re doing here,” Booster complained and scratched at his neck. “They can get air-recon any time but no, they decide that they need some poor-sons-of-bitches like us to make a mad dash all the way the hell out here and have a little picnic,” He sat back against the wall of the Access and cradled his M-32. “Those miserable, bug-loving, smleck-eating bastards can do it themselves if they’re so curious.” “It’s not what they know that Command is worried about.” Krays said and thought, no worries as long as they’re complaining. He focused his optics on the activity going on within the shell of the settlement. He could see GV’s moving past broken hab-domes, cruising easily over streets filled with rubble. They stopped next to the ruin of a larger, industrial type structure. “We’re gonna have a bombardment platform on the horizon in ten minutes,” Amhatiens said and pointed at the spot where the zapper warship would pass through in its orbit. “Even odds they’ll ignore us. They usually drop only on large groups out in the open.” “Yeah, usually,” Booster added. “There’s a first time for everything, freq-boy.” “The node figures there’s a point oh-oh-five-seven chance.” The nodie retorted. “Look at this and tell me what you think.” Kray said and offered his optics to Harley, who raised them and looked out toward where Kray had seen activity. Two GV’s hovered outside the wreckage of what a toppled street sign identified as the Solstice-Terratronics Research Lab. Drones moved in and out of the broken structure carrying pieces of computer equipment and scanning implements to the open entry doors of the zapper vehicles. “It’s beyond me,” Harley said and handed the optics back. “But I saw them doing the same thing at Little Springs while you were down-and-out. They’re keying on our science and research installations. My guess is that their trying to analyze our technology. What do you think?” “I don’t know what good it’ll do them,” Kray said and brought up the optics again. “Theirs is already ahead of ours,” He stowed the optics and reached for his water tube. “But they’re sure looking for something, no doubt about that.” “Kray, this is Homelight.” Someone from brigade level was dialed into his freq. Kray growled and pushed his helmet-mike closer to his lips. “Go ahead.” “We got some lab-coats here who want you all to make a stop on your way back. There’re some critical items someplace in the spaceport landing field area, container numbers AX-eleven-one-seventeen. Don’t worry, it’s secure, over.” “Roger that, Homelight,” Kray said and put a hand over the helmet-mike. He turned to Harley. “This goddamned planet hasn’t been secure since it was discovered.” “Look at the bright side, Alvin,” Said Harley. “At least it’s not the E-cons this time. This way we can say we’re not fighting our fellow man anymore.” Kray scowled and motioned for Amhatiens to call for pickup. Harley elbowed him as he passed in line and said, “Things could always be worse, Alvin.” An ADF skimmer waited on station for their call and arrived promptly. In 10 minutes they were in the air. *** Alpha Centauri The prototype Starhorse drives of TIL Bonventure ripped open a hole in space/time and came out of transit 4,000,000 kilometers from Rigel Kentarus. As the hole closed and the resultant jump flare shot away to infinity. The ship slowly came to life as pre-programmed routines started running. Within 30 minutes, the lid on Ajax’s freezer was open and he was awake. He pushed himself out of the sleep pod and, rubbing twenty-four months of sleep from his eyes, changed into fresh clothes. Ronald’s pod had only started to warm and through the small observation window he could see that his chief engineer had made the trip with a disgusted grimace frozen on his narrow face. Ajax opened the hatch and pushed off for the control cabin. “Oracle, give me an update on the crew status,” Ajax said once he was strapped into the pilot’s couch. “Nothing major, just give the basics,” He stretched and felt his now 42 year old joints pop. “Christ and Allah. It gets worse every time I come out of the box.” Reanimation in progress, ORACLE responded. Crew is forty percent optimal. Of the eight person crew, only two of them had been fully roused from slumber. Big Norm, Ronald’s second-in-command, was also up and undoubtedly in the engine room coddling the Starhorses with baby-talk that seemed odd coming from such a large man. “Give me a position check.” Ajax said and yawned. The lingering effects of cold sleep were still with him: a deep ache in his joints, the deep breaths required for his lungs to feel properly full, and lingering doubt that what he was seeing was real. 200 AU’s from center, ORACLE replied dutifully. The ship was still on the solar fringe of Alpha Centauri. Ajax groaned and tried to stretch in zero gravity. Had he not been strapped to the pilot’s seat, the action would have sent him spinning. “Advance the reanimation schedules for the rest of the crew,” Ajax said and punched his command access code into the keypad mounted into the bulkhead near his elbow. The function required a pilot override. “I need them out of the coolers ASAP.” Timetable recalculated, ORACLE confirmed as Ajax brought up the navigation console. X-band radar from the transmitter bulge under the Bonventure’s nose was reaching out into the cluttered Alpha Centauri system, already returning contacts; the fringe of the nearest asteroid belt, the fueling platform SOLC 15, and a dozen merchant craft- freighters or tankers- on a heading towards the work-in-progress nearer to the system core: Horseman Station. Ajax entered a frequency into the communication system from memory. The secondary, ventrally-mounted dish turned smoothly on its mount as it tracked in on the frequency source- the PGN beacon. He stabbed at the intercom button labeled “Engine Room” and said, “Big Norm, how’re we looking down there?” “Just fine, sir,” Big Norm called back. He usually let others do the talking. “The in-system drives are warm and I just finished my first diagnostic. There’s still a few gremlins in the system but they’re minor. We’re free to maneuver.” “How’d you sleep?” Said Ajax. “I can’t remember,” Big Norm said. “Two years of sleep and I don’t even remember what I dreamed about.” “Sometimes it’s better that way,” Ajax said and floated free as he slipped the straps of his pilot harness off his shoulders. “I’m going to heat up some caff. Would you like some?” “Yes, sir.” “It’ll be in the galley.” Ajax said and pushed away from the pilot’s seat toward the hatch. He rolled languidly in zero-g and enjoyed the freedom outside the cramped sleep-pod. Every time he emerged from one it felt as good as it had the first time. He slapped a hand against the hatch toggle and it slid open. Behind him, a PGN anchor was reporting a rise in reported cases of the strange new type of Deep Space Agorapsychosis sweeping through the Alpha Centauri system, neither cause nor cure had been identified. *** Ajax waved a sip-cup filled with hot soy-caff under Ronald’s nose. After a moment the pained expression on his face eased and after several seconds had passed his eyelids fluttered open, the dark orbs beneath them were confused, disoriented. He looked left, right, and then down at the catheter emerging from the open zip of his thermal shorts. “Waikee, waikee,” Ajax said and smiled as he pressed the sip-cup into Ronald’s feeble grip. “How’d you sleep?” “Where am I?” Ronald said groggily and looked down at the sip-cup as if unsure what to do with it but closed both hands around it to absorb the warmth. “Welcome to Alpha Centauri,” Ajax said and pantomimed lifting a cup to his lips. “Congratulations. Noone gets to be a real black ocean sailor until they’ve made their first jump. It’s the rule,” He dropped a hand onto Ronald’s arm and started to tug him out of the sleep pod. “Come on, get up and get moving. I usually do about a half-hour on the gravity bike just to get the circulation going again.” “How’s the ship?” Ronald groaned as Ajax helped him out of the pod. “Very cooperative,” Ajax said and chuckled as he thought of the ORACLE interface. “Big Norm found a few minor system faults but everything else looks good. We’re already decelerating at one-half G. It’s gonna take us a few weeks to get in-system though.” Ronald’s joints crackled as he stood and stretched in the weak gravity. He took a sip of soy-caff and said, “Why so long?” “If you thought navigating through the asteroids in Sol system was bad, Alpha Centauri has four separate belts,” Ajax said as Ronald, cup in hand, began doing deep-knee bends. “It’s a trinary system- three suns- the gravitational influences from them prevented any planets from forming,” He held out a disposal bag as Ronald removed his catheter and looked for waste receptacle. “There’s a mother-truckload of asteroids though.” “Don’t they have lanes opened through them?” Ronald said and hobbled toward his locker. “I mean, how do bigger ships get to the station, old man?” “Centauri Security is the police force and national guard all rolled into one,” Ajax said as Ronald stripped off the thermal garb and pulled on a fresh set of drawers, then socks, then a blue jumpsuit with the TIL logo, then a padded jacket with a patch labeled, TIL Bonventure. “They send out sweepers to clear the travel lanes pretty regularly. Little ‘roids get used for target practice, bigger ones are broken up with demolition charges and then used for target practice, but collisions still happen sometimes.” Ronald gave him a dubious look and said, “Collisions?” “Don’t worry,” Ajax said. “If they’re big you’ll never feel a thing and if they’re small…” He shrugged and let the thought trail off. “What about if they’re small?” Centauri Security has the best search-and-rescue this side of Avalon.” *** UM-3/ Avalon “What I want to know is,” Harley said as they picked their way through the supply dump in the pitch dark of Avalon night. “If they can see this from orbit, why haven’t they taken all this out yet?” The flurry of shuttle landings and rapid departures the Harvest before left crates and boxes piled on the spaceport tarmac. A year’s worth of provisions for the colony, plus those not delivered to Zebra Station, sat scattered around the empty landing field, stacked in haphazard piles waiting for trans-shipment to holding facilities in more secure locations. It was a slow process not scheduled for completion anytime soon. “No idea,” Kray said and shined the beam from his glo-stick onto the shipping tag of large crate. The call numbers were not a match. “Maybe they want to capture them. Maybe they don’t consider it sporting if we starve to death.” Provisions were the first to be identified and moved off-site, followed by ammunition and spare parts, the stacks that were left were considered for civil requirements that would have to wait for unboxing until after defense matters were met. Kray looked up at the twin moons in repose, fading toward eventual sunrise, and then at the stars. With the light pollution caused by the settlement removed, they filled the sky, the satellites he spotted overhead were man-made. The zapper platforms in orbit were over the horizon. “What the hell does high command need so badly that we get stuck out here checking the call-numbers on a lifetime supply of rehydrators and electrical parts?” Harley groused as he directed the beam of his glo-lamp over another crate. He entered the list into his data-pad and was rewarded with an item description. “More office desk kits. What were we looking for again?” “They’re called Enforcers- police robots of some kind. A dozen of them were on the invoice so they gotta be here somewhere. They got shipped from Earth so they’re probably recent tech. My guess is that they’ll be in bigger boxes.” “Found one!” Elroy called from a few meters away. Kray and Harley moved to where he stood with a smile, holding his glo-stick close to the side of a large container. “It says a pair of them in there,” He lowered the light as Harley and Kray stepped forward, clearing away the containers stacked on and around the one they wanted. “It feels like Christmas.” “They don’t have Christmas here, kid, they have Founder’s Day. It’s a combination of Christmas, July Fourth, and Thanksgiving all rolled into one. Go get the hand truck,” Kray said and tossed a case filled with bottled cleaning chemicals inside. “Set the cargo lift for maximum. These things look smlecking heavy.” “Right, right.” Elroy said and turned, moving off toward the nearest weather shelter a hand truck could be found in. “Where do you suppose the other ones are?” “This place looks like where the supply monster comes to take a shit,” Kray said as he set his glo-stick down and picked up an unboxing tool. Three pulls of the trigger and the front of the container came off. Mitsubishi Robotics shipped their products in two pieces, each encased in a cushion of hardened foam. The model had been manufactured 12 years before but still gleamed as new. “Christ and Allah. Talk about monsters- the name sure fits.” “Not brutal enough,” Harley said and ran a finger over the Enforcers head, an empty case filled with sensors: infrared, motion detection, and millimeter wave radar. “Check it out, the gimbles at the end of the four arms have universal mounts.” “So smlecking what?” Kray said and opened the paper bin in the foam labeled OWNERS KIT as Harley joined them. “I’m not a robot tech. Speak English.” The unit was eight feet tall, a skeletal framed robot that rolled on treads. The standard, non-lethal attachments for police work were included in the box; foam projectors, gas canisters, tasers- things of no use at all against the zappers. “Things like HISS guns have connectors that fit universal mounts,” Harley said and used his fingers to demonstrate how the two would fit together. “So does lots of other smleck that’s too heavy for us to carry. Put some armor on this thing and it could take way more hits than a grunt, and carry about eight times as much. I’d be afraid of anything that could pack around four HISS guns and take more hits than I’m used to giving.” Kray nodded and said, “Me, too. I wouldn’t mind having one of these along whenever they finally start pushing into Freeport.” Both men spun as a clatter erupted from the shelter Elroy had disappeared into; a beep-beep-beeping that indicated he’d found the hand truck, and then the sound of containers falling. The zappers had stopped outside Solstice as Gale set in. Just having them on the planet made everyone paranoid. “Damn it, Elroy, you told me you were checked out on the hand-truck!” Kray yelled over his shoulder. Elroy replied by downing another pile of containers. This time it was followed by a curse. “That was four years ago, top. I took that orientation before my troopship left Earth!” Elroy protested as he emerged from the shadow of the shelter with the handtruck in tow. It was a powered unit by Honda with several years of service evident in the scrapes along the sides, dented fenders, and outdated control box that the Private operated with two hands. “Get over here!” Kray said and pointed at the ground where he wanted Elroy to drop. “No excuses. If you say you’re qualified with a device, you be qualified with the device. I don’t want to get my head blown off because you thought you were putting your weapon on safe.” “Hey, Alvin, why don’t you cut the kid a break?” Harley said as Elroy walked the hand-truck up to Enforcer. The device mounted a small boom that could be used to lift things weighing a ton or less. “You been here so long you don’t remember what it was like in cold sleep. It messes with your head.” “Put this one wherever you find a clearing and keep looking,” Kray said and motioned for Elroy to load the robot. He activated his helmet com as Harley wandered away to look for more, setting the channel to the encrypted company-net. “We found the ‘bots. Where do you want them? Over.” “You got your GPS on?” Came the reply from company HQ, set up at the bottom level of an underground parking garage. “Enter in ten-twenty-six, one-oh-one-eight… they’ll be some lab-coats there waiting for you, over.” “Roger, got it locked in,” Kray said. He turned his head until the virtual waypoint showing him the direction to the coordinates blinked in his data-monocle. “I wasn’t planning on going into old town. With all eight of these things it’s going to take us a while to get over there, over.” “The zapper bombards aren’t due back for another eight hours, Top. The labcoats are going to be real disappointed if they don’t get their toys, over.” Kray growled as he closed the company link. He spun to see Elroy sliding the first Enforcer to the front of the hand-truck. “Double-quick time, Elroy. We got a deadline to meet.” Elroy rolled his eyes and said, “Don’t we always?” “That’s ‘cause noone else can get it done.” Kray said and stomped away. “Found one!” Harley bellowed from fifty yards into the pile maze. “Tag it and keep looking!” Kray bellowed back. Eight hours was nothing. He swung the glo-stick around as a clatter rose from someplace deeper into the stacks. When he reached the spot, there was a crate of military rations ripped apart. The crate had been torn open by something with large claws. He knew of no life indigenous to Avalon that was so well-equipped. There were imports that were. *** Alpha Centauri “TIL Bonventure calling traffic control requesting approach clearance and docking assignment,” Ajax radioed in as the station grew larger outside his thick, armored window. Although still distant, he could see the anti-collision lights flashing from the tips of the Horseman spindle. “You should be expecting us, over.” “Acknowledged, Bonventure. Welcome to Horseman Station. Solar conditions are stable and should remain for the duration of your approach. We have you in the queue, seventh in line for gantry two. Follow markers to your designated collar. Maintain current heading and decrease speed to one hundred feet per second inside control perimeter, over.” “Roger, traffic control, I’ve heard it all before,” Ajax said and triggered 50 pounds of thrust from the RCS to bring Bonventure behind and slightly below the freighter directly forward; a Sukhoi 300 series with yellow and white EuroCon markings. Visible ahead of the Sukhoi were the glowing engines of other ships making for port in a staggered line formation. “It’s good to be back, Bonventure out,” He opened a voice-link to engineering. “Ronnie, come on up. You should have a look at this. You’ll never forget the first time you come into Horseman.” “I’ll be right up,” Ronald called back and within minutes the hatch to the control cabin slid open. Several other members of the engine team floated in behind him, filling the already cramped space. “What’s all this?” Horseman Station was from all appearances a steel tube hammered through a misshapen black walnut, one that grew to immense proportions as their distance from it shrank away. Ajax pointed toward Gantry #3, where a large freighter hung from the bottom. “That’s one of ours- TIL, I mean- it’s the Manchester Star. She’s Mammoth-class. There’s only six others like it in all of known space. Get a good look.” “Magnificent,” Ronald said and took in the activity. “I can see why you called this place home for so long. Where are we going?” Rider Express “That gantry over there,” Ajax said and pointed toward where hulls of smaller tonnage were being diverted. “Be happy the company is picking up the bill. Docking fees this close to the station are outrageous. There are some bigger asteroids a few orbits back that are set up as landing facilities. Cheapest parking in the whole system if you’re gonna be here a while.” “How do we get from ship-to-station?” Ronald said as a SOLCorp shuttle sped past. They could see more ahead, darting about the gantries to fuel ships. “We don’t have a ship’s boat.” “All the cargo and passenger transfers are done by shuttle,” Ajax said. “The syndicate is called Rider Express. They have big-time pull. The last time they had a work stoppage it shut the entire system down. As far as the station is concerned, the syndicate gets whatever they want.” “If they get whatever they want, then why do they strike?” Ajax shrugged and said, “Because they couldn’t then.” *** The Rider Express shuttle transporting them from their docking gantry made hard-dock with the station and in less than a minute the loading hatch was open. The pilot went out first, climbing “up” a built-in ladder into gravity. A thin stationer wearing a TIL-tagged work suit waited on the arrival deck when Ajax reached the top of the ladder. “Welcome to Horseman Station, gentlemen. Salutis,” He gave the station greeting that Ajax returned. “We are honored to have such noted guests from Earth. My name is Kal. You must be exhausted after your long journey.” Ajax laughed and said, “I wish that were true. The truth is that all I could dream about in cold sleep is getting back to this station. We’re here, now can someone please tell me why we’re here?” “Sorry to keep you in the dark but we couldn’t risk giving you this sensitive information while you were in Sol system. We know you wouldn’t have told anyone but these days an enemy has more ways of finding things out.” “Apology accepted. Still, the points remains, I just spent two years on ice, that kind of time doesn’t come cheap. Why’s the company got us out here?” “There was a saying I heard once that dates back to Old Earth- business is war- and there’s a war going on, but not the kind you’re used to. There are no guns involved, and people rarely die, but there’s a lot at stake.” When the elevator arrived it was packed with riders in various hues of outlandish garb. The few that got off made just enough room for Team Extreme. Kal pushed the button for one of the many restricted access rings. Once the elevator started moving again, he said, “Billions of credits, control of markets, millions of jobs, the success or failure of a company- any company- lies in its ability to stay ahead of the competition. You may not think that our company has much of that, we’re the third largest in the Northern Combine, but we’re tiny compared to SOLCorp, now there’s Transterran.” Ajax shot a look over his shoulder as the elevator lurched and he was jostled. He’d just felt a hand slip in and out of his trouser pocket. “What does that have to do with us? We’re not even in the same business.” “The place to discuss this is not here.” *** Safe in the TIL corporate ring they could discuss more than pleasantries. With the exception of Ronald, the rest of Team Extreme had adjourned to the company canteen and were tucking into loaded trays with gusto. Ajax and Ronald sat across a table from their company guide, together in a sound-proof compartment. “SOLCorp lost a lot of influence in the old EuroCon sphere when Transterran took over,” Kal said as Ajax quaffed soy-caff from a sippy cup. “There’s talk that Transterran is going to build its own fuel stations in systems it controls and cut SOLCorp out of the loop entirely.” “How do we know that?” Ronald said. Kal paused and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. It took him a moment to decide how far back to begin. “SOLCorp has an agent inside the Transterran home office. The agent is code-named Argent. It took ten years get him into place but he’s been paying dividends. The problem is that he can only get them out piecemeal. SOLCorp needs access to all the information Argent has been accumulating, even if it means taking him out.” Ajax emptied the cup and said, “I don’t watch the business feed. Where’s their headquarters? How far is it from here?” “Procyon, your old stomping grounds. That’s one of the reasons we brought you in on this. Transterran bought the company that got the cleanup contract after the Crisis and moved right in. In the last communiqué, Argent reported that he was digging for something that he considered to be very big. We’ve gotten nothing since.” “Then why doesn’t SOLCorp get him out? Last time I heard, the SOLCorp station in the Procyon system is still operating.” Ajax said, already thinking of the things that could go wrong with the mission. Kal shook his head. “Transterran has Octavia under total lockdown. Nobody dumps body waste unless they have approval. They’d never get him off-planet.” “And this is where we come in.” Ronald said. “And this is where you come in,” Kal confirmed. “Our company has been cooperating with SOLCorp since before you left Earth- unofficially, of course- otherwise Transterran would be watching us, too. For all we know they might be anyway.” “So I’m supposed to run all the way to hell out to Octavia and find this guy?” “His contract with SOLCorp is almost up. Argent laid out an exit plan for when the time came, it assumes that he’s been able to escape from Octavia. The rendezvous point is outside the Procyon system but within range of us here.” “What system is it?” Ajax said. “Wolf three-five-nine.” “There’s nothing there, just a SOLCorp station, a red giant and some planetesimals. No air and no water. It’s a dead system.” “If that’s what you think then it’s probably what Transterran thinks and it’ll be low on their search list, but it’s not quite the truth. According to Argent there’s a pirate base in system- small, definitely low-key. They’ve been using it to raid surrounding systems. Argent has a plan to infiltrate this base and await your arrival.” “It doesn’t much nav experience to get to the middle of nowhere. Just send a few companies of security in. They’ll bring your boy out.” “You are very cavalier with lives other than your own,” Kal softly corrected. “Although other means of making this extraction are available, it has been decided that it will be done by you in this manner. Just in case he couldn’t get away from Octavia.” “It seems like an awful lot of trouble for one man.” Ronald said. “Perhaps. But we are not in charge of deciding what that is. Someone decided that it was important enough you to haul Bonventure all the way out here. Director Cutter of the Security arm placed urgency on this endeavor. He came to lay out the specifics for it himself.” “When was that?” Ajax said. “The last time I talked to him I got the impression that he was working someone else’s plan. This was his from the start?” “I don’t know. I was just an associate then,” Kal said and pointed a long finger at Ajax. “You still have to make it happen.” “How many years ago was that?” Ajax said. Kal shrugged. “Seven, perhaps eight.” Ajax felt his brow furrow as he was struck by an odd coincidence. He’d still been living on the station then. He and Cutter had probably passed each other in the Circle R bazaar as strangers. “We’re loading a freighter full of goods for you to trade with if you need to,” Kal said. “She’s the Manchester Star. You’ll be coupled to her for the duration of the trip.” “How much time do we have until we leave again?” Ronald said. The tremor at the corner of his eye foretold the coming of an epic intoxication. Centauri Brandy was potent, produced locally, and sold for thousands less than it did in Sol system. “We’re sending a transport with you, just in case supplies become an issue. There are some goodies on board in case you have to trade with the natives. We included a company of security troops as well, just in case the natives get restless. The transport is still loading and won’t be ready to go for a few days. After that you can launch anytime.” Ajax set his cup down and stood up. He’d heard enough. “Thanks for the soy. I have to get some shopping done,” He turned to Ronald. “If we don’t make it to the recreation decks before the change of shift, all the alco-halls will be filled up.” “Christ and Allah! We better get going!” Ajax agreed but added, “I have to make a stop first.” *** Hand lasers were quiet, effective weapons but were only good if the targets didn’t know they were being lased. Burn-through sometimes took as long as 10 seconds. A touch of 3cm laser was the worst sunburn ever times 20. Ajax knew a place he could get one. Circle R bazaar took up a full third of the outer ring on three decks and boasted the most square footage of any commercial zone on Horseman Station. Megacorps had outlet kiosks installed in retail strips on each deck, but anyone with something to sell could put down a blanket and display their wares, anything could be had with a little luck. “Rule number one around here is never take the first offer,” Ajax said as he, Ronald, and the self-proclaimed “Team Extreme” explored. Megacorps were relied on to provide the basics via their kiosks. “Only desperate suckers take the first offer. You have to be polite when you negotiate a price. If you’re rude they won’t deal with you and suddenly the thing you had to have is sold to someone else. You get people who are desperate to sell and they’ll take whatever you offer them. What they got is usually hot, which means that if you plan on keeping it, you get it off the station before you get burned.” “Excuse me, sir,” The smallest of the group said and raised his hand. There was Ronnie, Roy, Harvey, Kirtland, Big Norm and Little Norm, both were engine specialists, and like many of his “tech squad,” Little Norm had his data-pad out and was recording notes. “But rule number one is Product, People, Profit. It states that very clearly in the TIL employee handbook,” He removed the handbook in question from a cargo pocket and opened it to a tab. A finger traced down lines of text. He looked up and nodded. “Very clearly.” “You use this for the office,” Ajax said as he took the handbook and clapped it shut. He waved it in Little Norm’s confused-looking face and handed it back. “This is the jungle, we have to learn a set of new rules. Rule number two is don’t wander off with anyone you don’t know. The hustlers around here can smell new meat from the other side of the station, that’s you. All they want is what you got. If you put up a fight they send you out an airlock. These people are not polite, and if you mess with them, they will fork you up.” He stopped at an ornate blanket with piles of folded, handmade clothes and several weapons displayed. A female attendant in Sun-tribal drapes leaned against the bulkhead. Beside her were two pistols, both slug throwers, appearing to be in good repair. Ajax sighed as he met the attendants dark eyes and shook his head. They were unsuitable. A bullet from one of them might cause a hull breach. The penalty for that crime was a flush out the nearest airlock. “I wonder how you got along so well, old man,” Ronald said and wrinkled his nose. The station and its inhabitants had a particular funk. Public showers cost 50 credits, the price of two good meals, and more than a few stationers they’d passed had been neglecting proper hygiene. “I think I’d go crazy if I had to stay here.” “There were people here I knew I could trust,” Ajax said and frowned as he thought of Flick. “I was in my own little world. I’d go out for a year or two and come back. The people I knew would be right where I left them. Nothing would change. In hindsight I guess some things did. The station got bigger.” The people inside the bazaar were likely one of three common station-types. Ajax let his eyes trap those of a woman coming toward him. She had light skin and was dressed in the hajib of a merchant-nomad family. The paternals would exchange what they could on the station for fuel, necessities, and cheap goods sold for more elsewhere. They were transients and always moved on. “Excuse me, sir,” Little Norm said. Big Norm was tilted at the waist, muttering into Little Norm’s ear, shooting glances at Ajax from beneath his bottle-brush eyebrows. “How long did you stay last time you were here? The certainty exists that things have changed since then. We need to know what we should be prepared for.” “He’s asking you to input some variables into the equation,” Ronald said and nodded in acknowledgment of Big Norm’s observation. “It’s all about the variables.” “The manual states that when outside of company property we’re to keep our interactions with strangers brief,” Kirtland said, the tech for Bonventure’s automated systems and EVA expert. Ajax suppressed a twitch he felt building in the muscles beneath an eye. “Add variables to that and give us some output, please.” Ajax took a deep, reinforcing breath and configured his mind to produce what little he knew of geek-speak. With them it was all about the smlecking manual. “Everything you ever learned about how to behave was written for life on Earth. From here on out you start re-learning. Remember your politeness. Do that and you can’t go wrong. If anyone is making you nervous, just tell me and I’ll take care of it. The security is tough here. They don’t mess around.” Team Extreme visibly relaxed. Ajax gave the arms merchant his attention. Blazer was a division of Krupps Optics. The kiosk was manned by a professional who slouched against the counter, a company suit named Mace that Ajax knew from days past. Holo-forms of Blazer products rotated on vid-screens above and below him. “What’s the horse of the day?” Ajax said as he stepped up in front of the kiosk. It was an old joke about the Four Horseman: death, famine, plague, war. The station had bouts of each one except the last. Despite its size, the station was a fragile thing. Everyone who lived inside followed a rigid code. Discharging a firearm causing a hull breach was punishable by spacesuit-less ejection from the nearest pressure lock. “None you don’t already know,” Mace said and gave Ajax his practiced smile as his back straightened. “Salutis, senior Clean. It’s been ages.” “I see you put another eight years on that ugly face of yours,” Ajax said and shook that hand that Mace offered. “When’s retirement?” “Two more years and I transfer to the district headquarters on Pax,” He closed his eyes and put his head back as if dreaming. “Nothing but sweet air, sunshine, and deeply tanned Pax girls as far as the eye can see.” “How’s your wife?” Ajax said and snickered as Mace frowned and let his head fall forward. The bubble had burst. “Do you still raze her legs?” “Can I help you?” Mace said. Ajax turned to see Team Extreme grouped behind him, watching the exchange intensely. They went into a huddle around Ronald, each one whispering his response in turn, then Ronald stepped forward. “No, thank you.” He said and stepped back. “What about you?” Mace said toward Ajax, who was directing his gaze downward. The cheap models were on the lower screen. “Tell me about the L-12.” “It fits easily into your pocket and is ideal for self defense. It runs on a rechargeable power cell with enough output to produce a three centimeter beam for thirty seconds. At four meters you’ll burn through an inch of steel in seven seconds. If you’re looking for self protection at longer ranges, I’d recommend the L-5.” “How much is it?” Ajax said and lifted his head to scrutinize the L-5. A larger power cell bulked out the standard Krupps frame but would fit in his pocket. The wonderful thing about lasers was that they were effective and, especially, nearly silent… but they were only good if the target didn’t know it was being lased. “For you, six hundred,” Mace said. “That’s less than cost but we go back.” “Christ and Allah, how can you lie with such a straight face?” Ajax said with practiced indignation. “I ran into a Krupps rep in Sol system who told me what cost on the L series is. They make them in a factory around Ganymede- not even by hand- if you want to do me a favor then give it to me for two hundred.” “Go talk to Sukhoi if you want something that cheap,” Mace said with the same outrage. “Two hundred will get you something that might give you a beam when you pull the trigger. If you want to bet your life on a price tag then be my guest. Five-fifty is as low as I can go, and that means I eat the station tax and get a call from our security office so they can tear me a new one for giving inventory away.” “Like they need a reason to tear you a new one. You love it,” Ajax said with a smirk. “The customer is always right, now bend over, Mace.” “It’s the company’s price not mine.” “Rad-flush,” Ajax swore. “I know that is not the lowest price you’ve ever sold an L-five for. You’re trying to be a good corporate citizen, I understand, but don’t bullshit me, Mace. I’m looking for the baseline: battery, case, emitter. I don’t need any smlecking extra battery, warranty, or emitter guard so don’t try up-selling me. Give me the price for the no frills model.” ”Four-fifty.” “Done,” Ajax said and pressed that amount into the card reader in front of him. A swipe of his TIL card accepted the debt from the Krupps computer. “Have it sent to the TIL office here under my name. How long’s that gonna take?” Mace shrugged as he processed the order. “A few spins around the axis. If you’re still on Earth time then make it sometime in the next twenty-four hours,” He put his hand on his chin and went back to looking bored. “Nice doing business with you, Senior Clean. The power-pack will give you about two minutes of beam but it shuts down if it overheats. Read the manual.” *** The place Ajax guided them into was a moldy, rusted pressure hatch next to a glowing LCD sign that identified the inside as the “Dock Inn Ring.” Its door slid open and he stepped through. The inside of the place was well lit; screens glowed inside vid-phone booths, as did small lamps were built into the bulkheads. Chief’s back on Earth was darker. Here the management liked to see goings on. When Team Extreme arrived, bodies occupying modular booths turned to appraise them. Before he’d finished his first glass of Centauri distillate, a familiar face came through the entrance. Ajax smiled as he leaned against the bulkhead with his back to the hatch. Flick was still on-station. He thought for a moment of the dreams that had come to him in cold sleep and wondered how Flick would react when he found out he was a dead man. Ajax stopped and looked toward a happy commotion coming from the auto-bar in the center of the compartment. Ronald was exhibiting his TIL card to the rest of Team Extreme. All they had to do was swipe it and they got drinks. Little Norm tried it to more cheers. Ajax started for the group when he noticed the girls working the house had slowly started circling. Without his intervention, Team Extreme would be stripped clean before the next shift-change. *** UM-3/ Avalon “It looks impressive, but how do we control the smlecking thing?” Kray said and looked up at the Enforcer head. The robot responded by looking down at him. “These are the civilian models. Mitsubishi hard-wired them against use of lethal force.” “Keep moving.” The Enforcer synthesized a voice. The robotics lab was set up in what was once an underground vehicle bay. Repeated bombardment from orbit had knocked large pieces of Fibrocrete out of the overhead but the place was fundamentally sound, engineers had assured them. Rider Express “Against humans, top, against humans,” Amhatiens said as he stepped up beside Kray. The Enforcer bent at the pivot where its torso joined the tracked bottom, lowering itself closer to them. “We can get it unwired.” “Keep moving.” It said and turned its head to scan Amhatiens. “Guys, can we get a reset on this one?” Kray said and turned to find a lab-coat fiddling with a control box. The Enforcer straightened and the lights installed in the head-sensor went dark. “We can get around the use-of-force protocols with one of these,” The lab-coat said and held up the portable controller. “If we take them off the autonomous setting. Our biggest concern is integrating the controller with our combat units. It won’t do to have someone dedicated to carrying this thing around.” “Run it through the node-pack,” Amhatiens said. “The system is designed to be used with remote piloted vehicles. I can’t imagine this would be much different. All it would take is some tweaking.” “We thought of that,” The lab-coat said. “It’s the control system that shows the most promise so far. We’re trying to integrate the AI software into your node-system. Theoretically it’s similar to the municipal networks the robots were designed for.” “Guys, check it out!” Kray and Amhatiens turned. Harley pointed out the second Enforcer to be uncrated. Empty Rapier tubes were being test-mounted on the universal tips at the ends of the Enforcer’s arms. It looked ugly, and somewhat frightening, all business. “Look at that thing,” Kray nodded approvingly. “Now if we had more maybe we could do something with them,” He turned the lab-coat with a hand to the shoulder. “How soon are these going to be ready?” The lab-coat chewed his lip and pondered. “Maybe a week.” “Since we brought them in, you should let us take them out. How about it?” “You may get your wish,” The lab-coat said. “I heard that the zappers have moved out of Solstice and are moving this way. They probably want to finish this before next Gale.” *** Horseman Station Ajax walked slowly through the Circle R Bazaar, feeling the weight of the L-12 laser concealed in his pocket, following the back of Flick’s head as it bobbed through the crowd. His old fixer was a man of habits that had not changed in a decade at least. Up by second shift, out to the Bazaar for some food and some browsing, then to the Dock Inn Ring for the rest of the shift. At the end of shift it was back to the Bazaar for lunch, then to a holo-parlor or the small station arena for his entertainment. Ajax smiled as they moved out of the bazaar. The dark interior of the Dock Inn Ring would suit his needs to a touch. At the middle of second shift, the place was mostly empty. Ajax slid up to the on-duty security officer slumbering head-down against the auto-bar. A few booths against the back deck were filled with transient merchant crews in quiet conversation. Flick slid into a booth away from the rest with his back to the entrance and started his shift-work. “Salutis, Flick.” “Ajax? What are you doing here?” Flick said and managed a look of surprise as Ajax slid into the seat across from him. “I heard you got busted sneaking into Sol system. I should have known they could never hold you,” He smiled and thrust out a hand. After several awkward moments he let it drop. “What’s wrong? You don’t got a handshake for an old friend?” “I learned some things in Sol system that changed our relationship.” Said Ajax. Surprise changed to confusion. “What do you mean?” Ajax folded his hands in front of him to hide them trembling. “There was an interdiction fleet waiting for me at my penetration point. The point that you gave me. You set me up.” “Ajax, I had nothing to do with it, I swear to you,” Flick said and held up his hands, suddenly aware of his peril. “You’re my best operator.” “Save it,” Ajax said solemnly. “I spent time in Hell because of that bogus penetration point. I’ve already done enough of that.” “It was a legit point!” Flick erupted. He turned as the security officer at the bar stirred, then went back to whatever dream-world was escaping him. For others there was no escape. “How was I supposed to know that Customs Authority expanded that control zone? Ajax, we’ve made a lot of credits together. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. How can you sit here and accuse me of this?” “It’s called a logical conclusion, Flick. See, my regular points were doing just fine, but you didn’t know where they were,” Ajax said. “I take your advice, I get sent to the Deepcore. That’s all the logic I need.” Flick recoiled as Ajax took out the L-12 and set it on the table. “Whoa! Ajax! What are you doing? Put that away!” “It’s called payback, Flick, for bad advice,” Ajax said. “I wish I could say it was nothing personal, but the truth is that I’ve been dreaming about this since I jumped out of Sol system.” “Ajax, please!” Flick said and looked over his shoulder for security. He’d gotten very pale. “I swear on my father’s name that I had nothing to do with you getting hooked. Just don’t burn me.” “I just have one question, Flick. How much did they pay you to set me up?” “Ajax, I have a confession to make,” Flick said as a drop of fear-sweat rolled out of his thinning hairline. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” “Go on.” Ajax said. “A couple years ago, before you left, it was the usual station cycle when this guy comes to see me,” Flick said, his eyes fixed on the L-12. “He says he has to talk to me about some business. He says that he knows I do a lot of fixing for you. He says that it would be in my best interest for me to give you a new insertion point for your next trip into Sol system.” “Did you know this person?” “I never seen him before then. He wasn’t a stationer, I can tell you that. I thought he was crazy or something. He said that he had enough information to get me vented out the nearest airlock. If I went along it was a cool hundred thousand in SOLC credits. If not, he was going to station security, and he just sits there, like he was ready to wait for an answer until the end of time.” “Your cut of my last run would’ve been more than that,” Ajax said and slipped the L-12 under the table. “Why didn’t you just call in some favors and have him taken out?” “It wasn’t like that. This guy was serious business,” Flick said and locked eyes with Ajax. It was usually Flick’s nonverbal sign of honesty. “There wasn’t a wet-worker on the station who would’ve come back from the job. This guy said he came all the way from Procyon to make this happen.” I made too many enemies there, Ajax thought and said, “How much of the hundred thousand have you got left?” “All of it.” Said Flick. “As of now I’m ending our business relationship. The termination fee is a hundred thousand in SOLC credits. If I don’t see it in my TIL account before I ship out, my last day on Horseman Station is going to be yours as well,” Ajax added a casual lie as he slipped the L-12 into his pocket. “I have people watching the shuttle decks, so don’t even thing about skipping out.” “Fair is fair, but watch yourself, Ajax. I don’t know what you did to this guy but I wouldn’t cross him again. Not unless I couldn’t avoid it.” “Thanks for the advice, pal.” Ajax said and slid out of the booth. He decided to keep the L-12. Flick might want to keep his credits. The price of a reasonably talented wet-worker would allow him to keep most of them. *** The code to the hab-unit still worked, Ajax discovered, as he punched it in and the door slid open. He stepped through the doorway into the interior, then closed his eyes and took a deep, nasal breath. It still smelled the same, like scented candles, body oil, and unwashed clothes. “Cloe?” “Who’s there?” A younger female voice called out from the attached shower stall. The door to the stall opened slightly and a head full of damp, yellow hair poked out. Ajax squinted and tried to identify her. It was Cloe’s daughter Sylva, several years older than he remembered, now a young woman instead of a girl, very pretty- her mother’s influence. “Mel, is that you?” “What’s up, squirt?” Ajax said. Sylva shrieked with joy and ducked back inside the mist-shower. The shower door slid open and she emerged, glistening with mist and utterly naked. She ran into Ajax’s waiting arms and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Is your Mom around?” “She’s at the bazaar,” Sylva said as she released him. “I thought I’d never see you again. You’ve been gone so long.” She slugged him in the arm as punishment for his long time away. “Sorry,” Ajax said and rubbed the spot where she’d socked him. “I told you that I’d be back, Syl. It took more time than I expected, though. Is your mom still single?” “You could say that,” Sylva said as she pulled a robe off the hook next to the shower stall and donned it to Ajax’s relief. Her young, naked body was inspiring lustful urges deep from deep within him. He averted his eyes from her pink, alert nipples and small thatch of pubic hair. “Last month it was an engineering tech, six months ago it was some Rider Express pilot, last year it was a security officer.” “What about now?” Ajax said and slid into the table/booth built into the wall, something he’d done a thousand times before. “She’s in transition,” Sylva said and removed a sealed pitcher from the thermal-conditioner built into the table/booth and poured a plastic glass full of clear water. The drink was set on the table before him. “I guess she’s just sick of stationers. Too many of them are on Serenity anymore. She decided that she won’t engage any man without a job, especially because of that.” “I don’t blame her,” Ajax said with a chuckle. The Serenity problem in the Alpha Centauri system was as bad as it was in Sol. “The funny thing is that I didn’t realize how much I missed you two until I was light-years away.” “You missed me?” Sylva said, clearly delighted. “Then how come it took you so long to get back?” “Syl, the only thing I can tell you is that I was stupid. I got caught doing some things I shouldn’t have been doing,” Ajax said and took a sip of the water as Sylva slid into the table/booth across from him. “I lost a lot of good time I’m still trying to make up for.” “You want to start right now?” She said coyly and swung her legs back and forth under the table. “Way ahead of you, squirt,” Ajax said. “That’s what I wanted to see your mom about. Do you know when she’s supposed to be back?” Sylva’s reply was cut short by the nearby sound of things hitting the deck. Ajax turned to find a shocked Chloe in the open hatchway, standing over a broken bag full of Smleck and leafy greens scattered over the floor. She lifted a trembling hand to her face that was very pale. “Mel?” She said as Ajax slid out of the table/booth and moved to pick up the articles she’d dropped. “I can’t believe it.” “Salutis,” Ajax said and refilled the bag she’d dropped. “How are you, Cloe?” “I heard you were in some Sol system prison,” Cloe said. “How’d you get out?” “It was a big misunderstanding,” Ajax said and picked up the bag. He carried it to the counter. “It just took a while for things to work themselves out, that’s all.” Cloe was standing toe-to-toe with him as he dropped the bag on the counter and turned. There were gray streaks in her still lustrous brunette hair but the sparks in her green eyes were as bright as he remembered. Like all stationers, she put in her required time on the gravity bike, her muscles were as tight as her daughter’s were. “Now you’re back for good?” Cloe said in a voice tinged with hope. “You haven’t mentioned what’s going on in your life, Mel.” “I got a job with TIL,” Ajax said. “That’s not exactly accurate. They had a job for me that I couldn’t pass on. It pays better than what I’m used to. The only problem is that they got me on the move all the time.” “You aren’t moving back to the station then?” Cloe said as Sylva slid away from the table and moved to the bin where their clothes were stored. “It was nice of you to stop in.” She brushed past him and commenced storing her groceries. The hurt and disappointment in her voice was plain. “I can’t make excuses, Cloe, you know what kind of life I have. You always understood that. That’s why we get along so well, our understanding.” “Honey?” Cloe said and turned away from him to where Sylva was slipping into a black station coverall. “Can you excuse us for a little while?” “Sure, Mom,” Sylva said and zipped herself in. “I have to get to advanced studies anyway,” She pecked Ajax on the cheek as she moved to exit. “Be nice to him, OK?” “Don’t worry, honey, we’re just going to talk.” Sylva rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right,” She waved. “Mel, are you going to be around for a while? You don’t have to leave right away do you?” “Sure, squirt,” Ajax said over his shoulder. “I’ll be around for a few cycles.” “Then stop back again before you leave,” Sylva said. “I’ll make you some homemade smleck.” “I can’t wait,” Ajax said and turned his attention back to Cloe when her daughter disappeared through the hatch. He pondered as he watched the hatch close. “She’s turning out to be beautiful. I never would’ve imagined that little tom-cat could bloom so well.” “She’s really the thing that keeps me going,” Cloe confirmed. “Especially since I don’t have the foundation of a regular man in my life. You were as close to that as I’ve had since Syl was born and her father left,” She shook her head. “I sure can pick ‘em.” Ajax reached over the table to take the hand that Cloe lowered from her face. “Don’t say that,” Ajax said and gave her hand a squeeze. “The only mistake you’ve made is in letting someone else decide who the father of your baby was going to be. That’s a big hole to dig yourself out from. I never promised that I was going to be the best match for you. I just wanted us to have some fun while it lasted.” “Is that all I was? A lark?” Cloe said as if hurt. “Let me tell you something, Melvin Kinkaid, I loved you. I thought that just maybe I’d gotten through to someplace inside you that only I could touch. And what happens? You get a hot tip and off you go, rocketing off to fek-knows-where. So long, Cloe. Thanks for giving my dick some nice attention but it’s time to go.” She threw her hands at the hatch then sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “Can I ask you something? Why did you come back?” “It wasn’t up to me,” Ajax said. “The company sent me out here. If they hadn’t, I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to get back here.” “That’s not what I meant,” Cloe said. “Why did you come back to see us? You don’t owe us a goddamned thing.” “I wanted to see how we’d changed,” Ajax said. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. I wanted to see you.” Cloe surprised him by standing and sliding into the booth/table next to him. “I wanted you to be Syl’s father.” “You don’t need a man,” Ajax said and reached into the inner pocket of his flight jacket for the micro-disc he could feel inside of it. “I always figured that the only reason you needed one was because you were afraid to be alone.” He removed the disc and tossed it onto the table. “What’s that?” Cloe said and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “An apology,” Ajax said. “For all the things you wanted that I couldn’t be.” “I missed you, Mel.” She said. The disc was coded and authorized for 100,000 in SOLC credits. It was his only compensation for the only woman he’d ever considered for matrimony. *** Leslie Spenser was wishing he could turn the bright lights in his cubicle down instead of off when the door bell sounded. He got up from his leafy dinner and went to answer it. A stony-faced station-magistrate was standing in the corridor when it opened. “Admiral Spenser?” The magistrate said. “Yes, that’s right,” Spenser said and wiped his mouth. “It’s ex-admiral now, thank you. Can I help you?” “The station manager has a situation he asks your advice on. Are you available?” “Retirement usually makes that a certainty,” Spenser said and tossed the napkin into the cubicle. The door closed behind him as he followed the magistrate down the corridor. “What sort of situation?” “We’re not sure,” The magistrate replied. “Facts are still being analyzed. There seems to have been an accident of some kind.” “The transmission came from the outer boundary. We estimate that a ship came out of transit prematurely: two light-weeks away. We downloaded a transmission from a NorCom ship. It exploded shortly afterward.” Spencer sat at in the chair the young Magistrate indicated and said, “Play it, lad.” “This is the USS Pickett, mayday- mayday! Requesting a clear channel, any receiving station, stand by for downlink. Sending now!” The captain of the Pickett shouted. His wide eyes twitched as a repeating, automated, warning urged the crew to “evacuate now.” He was numb, ashen, a dead man. He leaned out of the picture to initiate the data dump. The captain turned, startled, as a loud wrenching sound came from behind him. The screen fuzzed and went dark as Pickett stopped transmitting. The Magistrate used a remote control to change the video feed. It was a paused frame taken from the telescope array at Horseman Station. An arrow had been included by analysts, pointing one of the larger, brighter stars- USS Pickett coming down the corridor from 61 Virginis. The footage rolled for less than 10 seconds start to finish. The dot started moving toward the bottom left of the picture. It shifted several millimeters before increasing in size and brightness times ten. The light took Pickett away as it faded. “Who got the data dump?” Spenser said as the remote changed the view yet again. Pickett’s technical data. “We got some of it, I think,” The Magistrate said. “The transmission went out over the guard channel so everyone in the system heard it. Not the same for the data dump though. It’s encrypted in military code so we might not be able to read it.” “Then send it to someone who can read it,” Spenser said. “Are there any military ships in system? If there are, send it to them, let them decipher it.” Yes, sir,” The Magistrate said and activated his com-unit. “Compile a record of all the military ships inward or outbound.” The record came back nearly empty. 2nd Fleet hadn’t stopped for a station-call. “Ok, we have a NorCom tug on their way out, USS Barlow. They’re making for the Sol jump-point.” “How long until they initiate transit?” Spenser said. The Magistrate repeated the question into his headset microphone. “Forty-one hours. Should we contact them, sir?” “I recommend it. Just make sure you find out what it is before they leave for Earth. Remind them that we have agreements on intelligence sharing. Especially when matters of NorCom or Centauri security are involved. If it’s important enough for you to disturb my retirement, it’s important enough to know about once they get it decoded. Make sure you tell them I said that.” Spencer rubbed his hands together and chortled quietly. “Thank the maker. It seems that fate isn’t quite done with me.”