In Ashes Born (A Seeker's Tale From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (26 page)

I plopped myself down on the sofa in what I’d come to think of as the living room and glared across the empty bottles on the table. “Give.”

“Give what?” he asked.

“What did you find on the
Chernyakova
?”

“What makes you think I found anything?”

“You did. I know you. If you hadn’t found it, we’d still be back there looking.”

He shrugged and picked up one of the bottles in front of him, shaking it side to side and holding it up to the light before draining what little was in it into his mouth. “You don’t want to know about Agent Waters?”

“Jim? No, I think I’ve got that already. I’m just trying to figure out what I’ve bought into with this little farce of a partnership.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up and he looked almost eager. “What do you think?” He said it in a “tell me a story” tone.

I sighed and held up a finger. “You’re a TIC agent.” I added another finger. “You’re on assignment.” I added a third finger. “Waters knows what that assignment is.” I added the last finger on my hand. “It’s something to do with the
Chernyakova
. Those flashing icons are significant because they represent stations beyond CPJCT—and by extension, TIC—jurisdiction.”

Pip pursed his lips and nodded. “Pretty good. What makes you think it’s a farce?”

“I’m window-dressing. You needed somebody in command of the ship who has no link to TIC or the CPJCT, for some reason. Logically, it has something to do with those stations and protecting your undercover status.”

“True, except for the window-dressing part, but substantially correct.”

“Then what am I if not the window-dressing?”

“You’re motive,” he said, his words so quiet I almost didn’t hear them over the blowers.

“Motive?”

He nodded. “The name David Patterson ring any bells?”

“It does, but I can’t think of why.”

“How about Percival Herring?”

I felt my heart rate spike and I had to bite my tongue.

“He’s your reason for going where we’re going,” Pip said. “I’m just a trader looking to open up some new—highly lucrative—markets.”

“And you didn’t think you could be upfront with me because why?”

“Orders. Everything is need-to-know.” He shrugged. “I never lied to you. Never told you anything that wasn’t the exact truth.” He offered a smile in apology. “It just wasn’t the whole truth.”

“So this partnership?”

“That’s real. I hope we make a shipload or four of credits. We’re investing a quarter billion and I suspect we’ll make a few billion in return. Enough to set up a whole fleet.”

“Your economic model?”

“Real. I suspect I’ll be able to collect a lot of data.”

“Your father’s involvement?”

Pip picked up another bottle and shook it. “I’m hoping I’ll hear from him about the deal soon and he’ll be in favor. Failing that, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Is he involved in TIC?”

“No.”

“But he knows you are.”

“Your words, not mine.” He gave me one of his looks. “It’s largely irrelevant to the discussion and between my father and me.”

I shrugged. “All right. So, he knows.”

Pip grinned and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “Look. I don’t ever want to actually lie to you, but our security depends on having a complete, unassailable story. I need to get to where we’re going. You’ve got a reason to take me there. I really don’t want to color your story with mine because if you don’t tell a believable story, neither of us gets out alive.”

“You’re asking me to risk my life for your mission?” I couldn’t believe he’d do that. “Without even telling me? I thought you were my friend.”

He shook his head. “I’m asking you to risk your life to find the man who killed Greta and bring him to justice.” He shrugged. “I’m telling you now. There’s still time for you to back out. You might remember we have a clause built into our corporate charter and the partnership agreement. You can walk away any time.”

I stared at him for several long moments. I couldn’t sort out the hurricane of thoughts and emotions inside my head. “Tell me,” I said.

He shook his head in refusal. “I can’t tell you everything. Ask me a question. If I can answer it, I will. Honestly. If I can’t, I’ll tell you I can’t.”

“Why the
Chernyakova
?”

“She has the charts we need to find the Darkside, and she’s a known entity there.”

“What is the Darkside?”

“It’s where you might have ended up if not for my aunt putting you on the
Lois
. It’s where people who fall through the cracks end up.”

“What’s the TIC interest?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I paused to gather my thoughts. “What did you mean by known entity?”

“The
Chernyakova
was one of the Darkside’s vessels. There might be hundreds of them out there, but this is the first one that we’ve been able to acquire without tipping our hand.”

“The ship has been docked here for months under TIC jurisdiction. Why did we sneak in?”

“They didn’t know what to look for.”

“How did you know?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“How did you know the
Chernyakova
was one of their vessels?”

He grinned. “I didn’t. Just strongly suspected. That’s why I wanted to get aboard.”

“Can you tell me why you suspected?”

“They’re a ghost. None of their logs match station records. They might have been coming from Greenfields, but not by the route that their logs indicated. They got underway with one cargo and docked with another. That’s not supposed to be possible.”

“But they did it,” I said.

“Apparently.”

“So,
Chernyakova
is going to become a ghost again?”

“Not entirely. You’re a known entity because of Patterson. You might be persuaded to carry a can or two, but you’ll want to keep your reputation unsullied. Most of the cargo will be legit. Once you find Patterson and deal with him, we’ll be able to re-evaluate the situation. Probably we’ll come in from the cold. At least you’ll be able to. By then I’ll have established enough cover to stay behind if I need to.”

“What about our board of directors?”

“You’re forgetting who they are.”

“Margaret Newmar?”

He chuckled. “She was the one who asked you how assassins got paid, wasn’t she?”

I shook my head, trying to clear the buzzing sound out of my ears. “Do they all know about this?”

“None of them know. They’d all be shocked if they did.”

“Because of the mission?”

“No, because it would be a gross violation of operational security to bring them into the loop. They all know that.”

“Even Margaret Newmar?”

Pip pursed his lips and sighed. “Even Margaret Newmar.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask. I can’t tell you.”

“What are you going to do with the
Prodigal Son
?”

“I’ll find us an engineer and we’ll fly it to Dree for the refit. Father will have to send a new captain out. Or maybe he’ll toss Roland a bone and let him have it back.”

“That’s why you beached him,” I said. “You needed him out of the way.”

Pip shrugged. “He didn’t like flying the CEO’s spoiled brat around. He’s old school and half a generation ahead of me and the cousins. I just was a little more bratty than normal. It won’t reflect on his career in the long run, and Father will find him a new berth with the family even if he doesn’t get the
Son
. It’s what he does.”

“So you picked a fight with him to force him out.”

“More or less.”

“Will your father really back this plan of ours?”

Pip chuckled. “Of all the things up in the air right now, that’s probably the biggest. He knew I was going to hire you. The only significant difference is being a partner in the deal. He’ll back it or I’ll apologize.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “I wish we’d hear from him. I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on.”

“Did TIC have anything to do with scotching the last two auctions?”

“No. They didn’t realize the significance on the first one. When the second one failed, it got their attention.”

“Did they get the rules changed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why are you telling me all this? Isn’t it a violation of operational security?”

He nodded. “Probably. I’m telling you because you need to know. I’ve played pretty loose with the truth for the last couple of weeks, but it’s coming down to the crunch. If we win the bid on this ship, we’re going to be getting the attention of a lot of people who don’t fall into the same level of nice that you were used to on the
Lois
.”

“I’ve run into a few already.”

“In the Darkside, most of them will be like that.”

“Murthering scum?” I asked.

“‘Murthering?’ Is that even a word?”

“Yeah, actually. A very old one.”

“Then probably. Yeah. At least some of them.”

“I’m still not quite clear on why the
Chernyakova
. Surely with the resources TIC has they can use one of their own ships.”

“First, there’s the charts. TIC has some of them, but the
Chernyakova
must have all of them if it’s traveling about the Western Annex.”

“All right, but why not strip the charts out of that deathtrap and outfit a real expedition?”

“We’ve tried with the fragmented charts we have. Ships never came back out. This isn’t a mission to be undertaken in force so they’re not going to send in a battle group.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I sighed in frustration.

“There has to be something about their ships,” Pip said. “Some signifier or identifier that tells them the ship is good. Might be a code hidden in the transponder. Might be a tattletale built into the communications array. TIC has never found anything but none of their ships ever came back out.”

“And you think we will?”

“I’m betting my life on it.”

“And mine,” I said.

“And yours. And the whole crew as well, but I suspect some of them will know more than we do about what we’re going into. They might well be the missing key, which is why this business of ours has to be just what it seems to be. You’re looking for the guy who killed your lover and I’m looking for some fast credits. Neither of us is that concerned about the Confederated Planets Joint Committee on Trade.”

“Why would they accept the ship back with a new captain and crew? That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

Pip shrugged. “Hunch.”

“Hunch?” My voice may have cracked in surprise.

“It’s the name,” Pip said. “
Chernyakova
.”

“What about it?”

“Anglicized names are always subject to interpretation,” Pip said. “On the surface, it’s named for the daughter of some guy named Chernyakov.”

“What’s the significance?”

“One interpretation could be ‘Daughter of the Dark.’”

“Or Daughter of the Darkside?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Possible. Somebody scared off those other bidders. I don’t think it was the stained decking.”

“What’s keeping them from scaring us off?”

Pip grinned. “I’m betting they’ll want us to win so they can get the ship back.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Neither of the other two bidders had a reason to take the ship back home.”

A little finger of ice trickled down my back. “You’re not making me feel really comfortable about this.”

He shrugged. “Comfort is a luxury neither of us can really afford, is it?”

“Keeping my skin intact—and not vacuum frozen—strikes me as a couple steps higher than simple comfort.”

Pip laughed. “If I’m right, they don’t actually want the ship.”

“What do they want?”

“They want somebody to pick up where the late and largely unlamented crew left off.”

“They want smugglers.”

“You say smuggler. I say revenue-optimal crewmember. It’s a question of perspective.”

“And TIC is going to turn a blind eye to this revenue-optimal operation?”

“No, you idiot. They’re sending one of their better agents on this mission to keep an eye on things and make sure they know what’s happening.”

I fell back against the sofa and stared at the overhead. “You,” I said to the blank plate above my head.

“I need another beer. You want one?”

Chapter Twenty-Six
Breakall Orbital:
2374, August 3

After a late night of skullduggery and soul-baring, I slept in. I’m not sure how I managed to sleep with everything going on. By the time I was ready for breakfast, it was time for lunch. I left my stateroom and found the galley largely as we’d left it.

“Maid’s day off,” I said to the coffee pot and began the process of infusing water with life.

While the coffee dripped, I took a bucket into the living room and filled it with empty bottles. There seemed to be more of them that I could account for from the previous night’s gab fest, but I probably wasn’t the most reliable of witnesses by the time we’d broken into the
Chernyakova
, rifled its computer systems, been kicked out by Trade Investigation, and then returned for an extended Hail and Well Met with the ranking TIC officer on Breakall.

Pip shambled into the galley as the coffee gurgled its last gasp and gave up the ghost with a sigh. I handed him a mostly clean cup and grabbed one for myself before pouring for us both. We sat on opposite sides of the galley table. I for one stared into my cup and tried to wake up as the magic molecules worked their way into my brain.