13 Degrees of Separation (87 page)

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Authors: Chris Hechtl

BOOK: 13 Degrees of Separation
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He turned
to his mate, she snorted softly. As a female she was always mindful of the
welfare of the cubs. Already the priestess Hypatia had started schools, mixed
schools for all the young. It allowed the packs to range further away from the
dens to hunt. Her soulful eyes looked into his. He shrugged and flicked his
ears, knowing in his heart that they would have to change. “We'll think about
it,” he said grudgingly nodding to the others.

“You do
that. While you think, I plan on doing what I can, while I still have the time.
No more Peter Pan for me. It's past time I fought for my future. Our future,”
she murmured, looking up to the stars above.

 

The end.

Hauling Freight

 

Time: During Yard dogs and Plague Planet.

 

After leaving Antigua, Captain Turtle of the medium
freighter Mariah's Mischief decided to avoid double backing to the Agnosta
chain into Pyrax and instead headed south following in the admiral's wake.

No one said so, but rumor was rife that the Captain might
have been hoping to catch up with the fabled Irons. They had picked up a lot of
interesting stories about the man, and if he was half as much as others made
him out to be, he'd be an asset to their ship... even though it seemed he had
one of his own. The tales of how he had restored Io 11, Destiny, Kiev 221,
Pelican, and other ships have them anxious to catch up.

They'd made good time, passing through the empty systems of
B450a and B449b in six months of transit time before they'd arrived in
Centennial orbit. When no one responded to their hails they'd taken note of the
damage to the planet's surface and then hastily moved on. It was dismaying that
the pirates had ravaged the world.

With careful rationing they'd headed to the southern jump
point and to Gaston. They'd had just enough fuel to make it in Gaston, coasting
inward on ballistic for an extra 2 weeks before they'd arrived in orbit.

On fumes they were desperate for fuel and supplies. It was
always a game for the pursers to pull off the impossible, sell of cargo for
fuel, parts, food, and other supplies. When you added in the cost of the port
fees and the bills the crew racked up it was no wonder George Darling had had a
massive heart attack and died at his post.

Many didn't care for the bean counters of the ship, but
they served a vital purpose. Wendy Darling as assistant purser warned the crew
to keep their shore leave to a minimum, keep the costs down, and heaven forbid
anyone who got into a bar fight with damages. “You break something we may damn
well leave you here. Got that?” she growled.

Knuyuk, her Veraxin boss who had taken over her father's
post as well as his own as Cargo master bobbed a nod of grim agreement. “We
just got word, Admiral Irons and his ship the Phoenix just left south to
Epsilon Triangula.”

“Darn,” Wendy murmured.

“Yes. I know many wanted to meet him. I know Mr. Bannings
did at any rate,” the Veraxin chittered. “Anyway, I understand the Captain is
returning to our original course. We're heading to Pyrax after this stop. So,
anyone on the ground who can scare us up some income, paying passengers and the
like, please let us know.”

“Aye sir,” Toodles said. John snorted.

“John be careful down there,” Wendy said, in older sister
mode.

John rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He took them off,
cleaned them with a handkerchief and then put them back on. “We'll be fine.
Michael's the one you need to be concerned about. All running around with
security,” he said. “Whoever thought giving him a gun must need their head
examined,” he said with a sniff. Wendy winced but also sniffed in agreement.
Michael would always be their baby brother, even when he was old and gray.

...*...*...*...*...

“I do say, are you going to Pyrax?” a rather fat man asked.
Rose looked up to the man. He had a gray cap on, white muttonchops framed a
bushy white beard, he was portly, with a green sweater on and farmer slacks.

She smiled. He reminded her of her late grandfather in some
ways. It must be the twinkle behind the glasses. “Are you asking me sir?”

“Yes, I was told someone from the ship in orbit was around
here. Since you lovely lady are someone I don't recognize...” he smiled and
bowed over his hand slightly.

She dimpled. She had to admit, she was always a sucker for
a charmer. “Yes sir. “Rose Worth, Navigator and helms-woman for the good ship
Mariah's Mischief.”

“Ah!” he said nodding. “And are you going to Pyrax?”

“Yes,” she drawled slowly, studying him. “Are you
interested in passage?” she asked.

“Why, no, not for me,” he said. “But I do have a
consignment destined for Pyrax. If your Captain is willing to haul it.”

“That's what we do sir, we haul freight,” Rose said with a
shrug. “And occasionally people and animals when the price is right.”

“Yes well, it's quite a lot, about two hundred tons of
material, are you certain you can handle it all?” he asked, cocking his head.

“You know, let me put you in touch with Mr. Knuyuk, our
purser and cargo master. He'd be the one to talk about that sort of thing. I
just fly the ship,” she replied with a wry smile.

“A woman after my own heart then, as honest as she is
lovely,” Mr. Fenly said, bowing again. Rose couldn't help dimpling a bit and
blushing.

“Um, let me um, just put a call in,” she said, pulling out
her phone.

...*...*...*...*...

“Is this legit?” the Captain asked, looking at the Veraxin.
The Veraxin purser Knuyuk had just laid out the order from a Mr. Fenly. It was
interesting that it was seconded from Admiral Irons. The terms were more than
fair, but they had to take it on a leap of faith. In other words they had to
trust a stranger, this admiral.

If it had been from anyone else the Captain would of
dismissed it out of hand right off the bat. He would have left them on the
planet and gone on his way. But it was from the admiral, and all the stories
they had heard about the man told them he was not only on the level, but also
that they'd get ten times what they invested in on the project. Besides, it was
right up their alley, just haul freight. Well, freight and passengers.

“I'd say it is sir. And if it isn't we can always refuse
delivery,” the Veraxin replied.

“We can check around sir. I know a couple of people ground
side,” Wendy replied. “John is there now. He's been talking to a blacksmith
near the spaceport named Jerry. We can ask him if he knows anything about it.”

The Captain nodded, thumbs in his belt. “Do that and get
back to me. I'm leery about the rest though. I'm not at all happy about hauling
passengers without pay.”

“He's trusting us sir.”

“He? Oh you mean the passengers?”

“No sir,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “Irons.”

“Irons? What about him.”

“It may seem, oh, just a tiny bit naive to just leave
sensitive military cargo laying around sir. And to trust it to a complete
unknown? Without his even being here?”

“We can be trusted! We've never jacked... oh. I see,” the
Captain nodded.

“But it is still naive. Dangerous. But he's doing it
anyway.”

The Captain nodded slowly. “I'd thought as much.”

Wendy frowned. “I think he's tracking the load. I bet
everything he said was true too, that if the load is jacked it will self
destruct.”

The Veraxin purser nodded. “Sensible. He'll know who took
it at least. And eventually he'll find out if it was delivered.”

“Right. He's left enough of an incentive for anyone who
carries the load to do it. I mean, who would turn down an overhaul? Every ship
needs one. Fully refueled? Parts? Are you kidding me?”

“True. If it's legit though. We only have his word on it.”

“Which is where faith and past behavior plays a part. Irons
has been a straight shooter from the start. We know about Io 11 and his other
adventures, even if it's all second and third hand. His reputation, even that
crap in Pyrax,” She made a face and waved an angry hand. “He played it
straight. He could have been a hard ass, gotten people killed but he hadn't. He
may get the short end sometimes, but he did it anyway.”

“Honor,” the Captain murmured. Wendy nodded.

The Veraxin shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “So what about
the passengers? What about them?”

“Same deal sir. He's trusting us to get them to where they
have to go, and we have to trust
him
that we'll get compensated.”

“Oh. Point I suppose.”

“Mr. Fenly is offering a discount on food and life support
materials sir,” Wendy replied. “That will help.”

“Interesting. What is Fenly getting out of all this?” Mr.
Banning asked.

“I'm not sure chief. From what I've gathered of the man, he
was incredibly impressed with the admiral and his aide to his planet and wanted
to return the favor in some small way.”

“That good?”

“From the sound of it yes. But also if he can pull this off
he has an in with the Navy if they're legit. He's taking a chance. Risky, but
with all the stuff about Irons out there...”

“A risk worth taking I suppose,” the Captain said. “How
many passengers again?”

“Six sir. All want to join the military.”

“Really.”

“Yes sir. Apparently admiral Irons put out the word that
the Navy is hiring. Both for their own projects, as civilian contractors, or
for the Marines.”

“Interesting,” the Captain said with a nod.

“It is. Apparently other ships have passed through coming
from Pyrax with similar news. So it's not too much of a leap of faith there.”

“Hmmm...” the Captain mused, rubbing his chin. “Fine,
Peter, find them something to do. Keep them busy and out of trouble.”

“That is if we do go for it. I'd like to see if they offer
a bit more before we jump on it,” Knuyuk replied.

“Don't go all dad and get greedy,” Wendy warned. Her father
had been a cut throat businessman. He'd paid for it, all the angst he'd built
up over the years had felled him by a massive heart attack a few years ago. It
was just as well, if he'd heard about what Admiral Irons was doing,  just
giving stuff away he would have dropped then and there too.

“George had the right idea.”

“Yes but Irons himself isn't here to negotiate. They may
not like going out beyond the parameters he set for them.”

“Ah, true,” the Veraxin chittered.

“Do they understand it's a 4 month jump to Pyrax for us?
We're not exactly a speed demon here. We haul freight.”

“Aye Captain, I'll let them know,” Rose said.

...*...*...*...*...

Peter put a call in to his assistant but Wendy had beaten
him to the punch. Rodrick put them in on a three way. “You know, I'm supposed
to be enjoying my shore leave. What little I get of it,” John growled.

“Fine, pass the phone to Jerry and let him talk,” Wendy
said tartly.

“Speaker phone,” John said, smarting.

“Yes?”

“Jerry right?”

“Yes. Jerry Smyth. Who is this?”

“Sorry, this is John's sister Wendy Darling, assistant
purser and the ship's chief engineer Peter Rogers Banning.”

“Pan the man,” John said softly.

“Hush,” Wendy growled at his interruption. He muttered a
sorry, she ignored it. “We've been approached by this  Mr. Fenly and we were
looking for references.”

“What sort of references?” Jerry asked slowly.

“Well, we want to know if the whole thing is on the level?
It's for the admiral, or so Mr. Fenly said.” She'd heard a bit from the Delgado
clan but wanted another take on the whole thing.

Suddenly Jerry snorted. “Ah, I gotcha. And yes, it's all on
the level. The admiral told me about it when he helped me.”

“He helped you?”

“Yes. He's been a big help here. He, well, the last time he
was here on Io 11 he did all sorts of stuff for us. He found an old combine
harvester with Miss Pine and fixed it, that helped us a lot come harvest time.
He set up trades with the ship, and even got them to clean up some of the rocks
in orbit. That's helped a lot.”

Wendy nodded. This Irons was a man after her own heart. Too
bad she was happily married. “Ah.”

“Last time he was here he was all over the place. He got me
into an industrial start up, I'm not sure if I should thank him or strangle him
the next time I see him.”

“Oh?”

“It's a headache. Right now a big one, but I'm finally
making progress. We're starting to move away from cottage industry. See a year
ago I was just a county blacksmith. Now I'm running a factory.”

Wendy nodded. She could tell from the sound of his voice he
was out of his element. She could imagine it, going from shoeing animals to
overseeing dozens of people. “Right.”

“I'm a bit in over my head, even with Rosepetal and
Mcvine's help.”

“I can understand that,” Wendy replied with sympathy. Peter
nodded.

“Irons did all kinds of stuff for us too. Medical supplies,
radios, satellites, the works. He also cleaned up some of our orbitals with his
ship the Phoenix. I wish he could of stayed, but I know a man with itchy feet
when I see one.”

“Ah,” Peter replied with a smile.

“Besides, we needed a bit of a break, he'd winded us but
good,” the former smith replied dryly. That got a snort from Peter and John.

“So yes, it's on the level. Fenly's a good sort. Nice guy,
donates to the schools, dotes on his grand kids. Sharp as a tack when it comes
to business matters. Irons set us up with the beginnings of a constitutional
government. I'm betting Fenly is a shoe in for the financial cabinet posting if
he wants it. If that is. He sounds pretty comfortable wheeling and dealing
right now.”

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