CHAPTER 9
Dina has to be
kidding.
If the Folly—the ship we crashed a couple weeks
ago— looked better on the inside than I
expected, well, my luck has turned. This vessel looks like
something out of old vids; it’s positively ancient. The outside
promises a dirty, cramped interior, and I’m not disappointed when I
clamber through the hatch.
It’s only a
six-seater. I pass through a narrow corridor to the central hub. At
least the safety equipment looks to be functional. From the hub,
halls lead left and right. If this ship conforms to standard
layouts, there will be three small bunk areas on either side.
Straight ahead we have the cockpit. Since this junk bucket is so
small, I rather doubt it possesses any extra amenities.
Bernard’s Luck doesn’t even boast a boarding ramp.
Instead it has a pressure door on the side and a retractable
ladder. I wouldn’t put it past the former owner of this ship to
have lost it on purpose. Okay, probably
not—he could’ve gotten something for it from the scrap
yards.
Dina interprets my
expression correctly. “I know she’s a little rough around the
edges, but the Folly wasn’t a diamond when
we got her. I’ll polish her up as we go.”
“A little?” I shake
my head. “As a jumper, I always knew my odds of going out on board
a ship were pretty high, but do you have to stack the deck like
this?”
“It’s not that bad,”
March says, then nearly loses his head to a dangling ceiling panel.
Though I’m not a mechanic, I feel pretty sure that ought to be
soldered to the wall. He exercises remarkable restraint as he adds
to Dina, “You might want to fix that before we get under
way.”
She hurries off to
get her toolkit. As I head to check out the cockpit, Velith boards.
I hear him say, “Is this wise? Perhaps we ought to reconsider and
accept the loan of a Conglomerate ship.”
Though I hate the
idea of being dependent on charity as much as the next person, I
have to say, I’m with Vel on this one. Sadly, I’m not surprised
when both Dina and March call, “No!”
“It is quite . . .
compact, is it not?” Vel glances around.
He has a point since
five steps takes me around the hub. Another five steps carries me
to the pressure hatch. I take a quick look around, and damned if
crew quarters aren’t so cramped that passing gas in there might
result in methane poisoning. There’s no med bay on board, just a
maintenance closet, so it’s just as well Doc won’t be traveling
with us this time.
Halfway to the
cockpit, the metal panels appear singed, as if there’s been a fire.
Mary help us. “Dina!” I call. “Did you check electrical?”
“Do you want to fix this thing? Of course I did. It’s
sound. I already told you that. That’s purely a cosmetic
flaw.”
“What’s the obsession
with this piece of junk anyway?” I mutter.
“If we decide to
leave Ithiss-Tor unexpectedly, we can’t be accused of theft by the
Conglomerate,” March answers from behind me.
After considering
everything that could go wrong, I have to say, “I see the value in
that.”
“I thought you might.
Let’s take a look at the cockpit.”
Right. We continue to
the front, where I intend to inspect the nav chair. That’s life or
death for me. If it doesn’t look right, I’m not going up in this,
no matter what. I can live with being accused of theft. In fact,
that might make a nice change from mass murder and general, wanton
acts of terrorism.
I’m pleasantly
surprised to find a relatively clean environment. The newest pieces
on the ship have been installed up here, no signs of systems
failure, no loose wiring. The nav chair is an older model, but it
looks like it’s in good shape. After checking the port, I don’t
doubt this ship will run.
“How’s it look in
your end?”
March shrugs. “Old
interface, but I can manage. We’ll be all right, Jax.”
“We’re stopping on
Lachion first, right?” He said something about it last night, but
honestly I was half-asleep. “Is that Conglomerate
approved?”
“I don’t give a
shit.” He grins at me and runs a hand over my stubbly head. “We
know our message went out clean, but I’m not so sure about Keri’s.
I just want to make sure everything’s all right. I owe her that
much.”
I am absolutely
not jealous over his concern. It’s
paternal, that’s all. So what if Keri is young, lovely, talented,
and terribly important? For a moment, I remember how much I
resented her at our first meeting.
“I don’t know about
paternal,” March says, tormenting me with a thoughtful pause.
“Fraternal. I’m not that old.”
Before I can hit him
in the head as he so richly deserves, the sound of raised voices
echoes toward us. The acoustics in here are such that I can’t make
out what the fuss is about, so I head back toward the hub. March’s
friend Surge towers over Dina, looking ready to clobber
her.
“You cheated!” Surge
roars. “If you think I’m letting you take my ship—”
“My ship,” she
corrects. “I have all the documentation, and you better get your
smelly ass off of it before we take you up and boost you out the
garbage chute.”
I register March’s
amusement as he comes up behind me. Funny, he hasn’t made a sound,
but I can feel his smile. Wonder if this
sensitivity results from jacking in with a Psi pilot.
“I see you’ve met
Dina. I knew I’d heard that ship name
somewhere. She rolled you in a game of Pick Five, huh? You must’ve
been pretty drunk.”
“Maybe a little,”
Surge admits. “I didn’t even realize what I wagered till this
mornin’. Talk about a rude awakening. Now my crew’s stranded
here.”
Dina snorts. “Serves
them right for signing on with a scruffy, shamefaced mash-brain
like you.”
“You can’t leave us
here,” Surge protests. “Let us ship out with you. You could use an
extra pilot and jumper to spell you, right? And my guys won’t eat
much.” His tone turns wheedling. “Come on, mate, it’ll be like old
times.”
There are seven of
them and four of us. Even with March and me in the cockpit, that
leaves a shortage of safety seats in the hub, and I doubt anyone is
going to volunteer to have his brain scrambled. Staying on New
Terra isn’t that bad.
By his expression,
March is thinking along the same lines. “Look, I’m sorry you
gambled away your ship, Bernard.” He does
sound sympathetic. “But she won’t carry twelve. I can take three of
you: pilot, jumper, plus one more. The rest of your crew stays
dirtside. We’re on a diplomatic mission, but we’re stopping on
Lachion first, so I can take you that far.”
“We might be able to
find work with one of the clans,” Surge says with a sigh. “Right,
then. Done. I’ll call my boy, Jael, and our jumper, Koratati. It’s
rather urgent for her to get off world. She’s nonhuman, doesn’t
have a valid visa. I expect you’ve heard about the new Conglomerate
immigration laws?”
I haven’t, actually,
but Velith has. “Yes, it shall likely prove difficult to move about
once they enforce them.”
March shakes his
head. “That’s one way to enforce the status quo.”
“They really want to
get a lock on things, don’t they?” With a sigh, Dina fastens a tool
belt around her waist. “I’m just afraid it’s going to backfire,
like it did on Tarnus.”
“Periods of political
upheaval are often accompanied by widespread disorder and
lawlessness,” Vel observes.
“It used to be
confined to the Outskirts,” I say. “And Corp patrols kept the tier
worlds safe. You think the Conglomerate’s organized enough to
prevent piracy and smuggling from becoming widespread?”
We all exchange a
dubious glance.
“If nothing else,
they can make life difficult for folks on the tier worlds,” Surge
answers at last. “As for the wider reaches, I doubt it. It’s gonna
be every man for himself out there for a while yet. I’d put money
on the Syndicate running things before the Conglomerate gets itself
sorted.”
Sadly, nobody
disputes his assessment.
“Pick your bunks,
people. Surge, I want your other two on board in under an hour.
We’re taking off in seventy, hell or high water.” Now that’s the
March I know and love.
I throw my meager
possessions into a miniscule room at random and then return to the
cockpit. March is already running diagnostics, a pretty array of
lights glimmering on the instrument panel. I even know what some of
them mean now, and I prove it by saying, “Isn’t that reading a
little low for life support?”
He grins like he’s
proud of me. “Yeah, give it some time to power up all the way. This
ship won’t be doing any lightning-fast getaways in its current
state. Give Dina some time with it on Lachion, though. She’ll
upgrade, add all the pretty bells and whistles you admired on the
Folly.”
I check the port one
last time. “So what do you think?”
“Surge isn’t telling
us something,” March says. “But I couldn’t get a read on what. I’ll
be watching him, don’t worry.”
I raise a brow. “I
thought he was a friend of yours.”
“More accurate to
say, we belonged to the same companyat one time. He’s doing his
best to appear affable, but I think there’s more to it.”
“You think he lost
the ship to Dina on purpose, so he’d have a reason to attach
himself to us?” There goes my paranoia again.
“I don’t discount
it.” March wears a thundercloud scowl, long fingers dancing over
the instrument panel. “Never forget, he’s a merc at heart, and he
doesn’t own an ounce of sentiment. He goes for the biggest payday,
every time.”
“If you think he’s
out to get us, why is he on board this ship?” I ask. Seems like a
basic error in judgment.
“I prefer to keep my
enemies close enough that I can go for their throats.” By his grim
expression, he’s remembering something he’d rather not
discuss.
