T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (9 page)

“Looks like a plastic pistol made in a 3D printer or other low-end fab unit. I don't think it would be very accurate.”

“Still a threat of deadly force, as was the knife, Bobby.” Mizuki was intent on justifying the actions of her flying pets. Bobby nodded absently and brought his foot down on the plastic pistol, breaking it. 

“I think we should head back to the ship,” he said. “We can call this in when we are well away from here.”

“Hai.”

Man, woman and butterflies moved off down the corridor in the direction of the docks, leaving one dead and two badly injured Ukrainian gangsters on the floor behind them.

Colonization Board Office, Farside

Imam Mustafa, Rabbi Menaheim, and Brother Abraham were seated in front of a bespectacled, balding bureaucrat. The official was telling them of the final arrangements for their upcoming emigration to Gliese 667Cc, a matter of grave importance to all three religious leaders. 

“As you can see from the manifest, we are sending six cows, six horses, twenty-seven sheep and thirty chickens with you. All of the quadrupeds will be female and there will be three roosters among the chickens.”

“Why no bulls, stallions or rams?” asked Imam Mustafa, “How are we to breed more animals without male stock?”

“All of the large female animals will be impregnated before the voyage. Using gender selection during the insemination process we can ensure that half of the births will result in male livestock. You can keep the best as future breeding stock and use the others as food animals.”

“And how long do we have to wait for delivery, so to speak?” asked Bother Abraham.

“The average gestation period of a cow is 285 days, a mare 342 days, and a ewe 152 days. Also note that we are sending frozen sperm for each species, prefiltered by sex, and insemination kits for each group of settlers. Using the provided material should allow you to build flocks with enough genetic diversity to be viable on their own.”

“Why no goats? We asked for goats,” said Rabbi Menaheim.

“We do not have sufficient breeding stock on hand to send goats with you at this time,” the bureaucrat replied. “We will send you goats on a followup visit to your colony some time in the future.”

“So you are not just going to dump us off at this gleeza place and forget us?” said Brother Abraham.

“Certainly not, Mr Creche. We will schedule yearly visits for the first five or so years. Such visits will carry medical personnel and supplies, along with any items you find needed to make your colonies viable. The Colonization Bureau is highly invested in your success.”

“And the separate travel arrangements for our respective groups?” asked the rabbi.

“Each group will be housed on a different deck of the transport while underway. Only you gentlemen will be allowed outside of your designated areas.”

“
Tov,
that will be acceptable.”

“And when do we depart?” asked Brother Abraham.

“You will board the ship nine days from today, with departure scheduled for the next morning.”

“So, in a little more than a month,
in shā' Allāh
, we will be at our new home.” 

“That is correct, Imam Mustafa,” the official answered. “Are there any more questions?”

The three patriarchs looked to each other and shook their heads. The wait for departure was tiresome but the end was in sight.

“Very Good. I will be contacting you again with instructions prior to the boarding. Good day, gentleman.”

Captain's Sea Cabin, Peggy Sue

Billy Ray listened to the Farside police chief's talking image with no apparent reaction. A few years back it was decided that having Marines police Farside gave the place the appearance of an armed camp. To make the civilian population more at ease an independent constabulary was established, manned by former law enforcement officers. Peggy Sue's captain was leaning back in his chair while the head policeman ranted and raved via video link from his headquarters.

“I repeat, Capt. Vincent, it is totally unacceptable for your people to assault and kill civilians in the halls of this base! I have two victims in hospital and one in the morgue—and the coroner tells me that the deceased was electrocuted. Electrocuted! How did your people electrocute a large man in a public hallway with no nearby electrical outlets? Do your people carry some kind of previously unidentified weapon?”

Billy Ray canted his head slightly to the left and said, “I asked my people about the altercation and they told me how many varmints they put down. I didn't ask them how they took care of the problem.”

“'Took care of the problem'! We are talking about a homicide here! And two attempted homicides!”

“Hardly, Chief Franklin. If my people intended on killin' them other two they'd be dead.”

“You think this is some kind of joke, Captain? The constabulary is going to do a thorough investigation of this indecent. I want your people to turn themselves in for interrogation.”

“Nope.”

“You refuse a lawful order by a law enforcement officer? You and your whole crew of scofflaws, brigands and cutthroats needs to be locked up! I remind you that I'm recording this conversation.”

“You really are a special kind of stupid, aren't you?”

“What?”

“Two of my officers were attacked in public by three men, two of them armed. They defended themselves, as is every citizen's right, yet you sit there and threaten to arrest my people?”

“I, I need to interrogate them to clear this situation up,” the policeman began.

“They were attacked without provocation and cleared the situation up on their own, without the dubious assistance of the constabulary. As far as I'm concerned, this matter is closed,” Billy Ray leaned forward in his chair and gave the caller a hard eyed look. “Furthermore, you would do a lot better to concentrate on the thugs who attacked these two upstanding citizens on the streets of your town. Two citizens who just happen to be a former Navy commander and a prominent government scientist, both bonafide war heroes. I'm thinkin' the Council might be interested in hearing about this matter.” 

“But, but...”

“Good day, sir.” Billy Ray terminated the call and then said out loud what he was thinking: “This place is turning into an asshole farm.”

After a moment’s contemplation, he placed a call to TK Parker. Within a few seconds the screen lit up with the billionaire's weathered visage—it was obvious from the background that he was at home.

“Howdy, Billy Ray. What's on yer mind?”

“Just wanted to let you know we are about ready to head on out of here. It seems the longer we wait the more trouble crops up with the authorities.”

“You catching grief over that dead Ukrainian? Or is it the AWOL Marine?”

“I see yer keepin' current on the situation.”

“I try to stay on top of things,” the older man chuckled. “Since I got you on the line, there is one thing I wanted to mention before you weigh anchor.” 

“Yes?”

“When you're out there, you are the man in charge. You can get advice from Beth and Bobby and the others, but in the end you are the captain—the decisions rest with you.”

“I figured as much, TK. Jack taught me that bein' in command ain't the same thing as chairing a committee.”

“Good. The other thing to take note of is that you are the representative of Earth and all its species. The Council is investing you with plenipotentiary powers, meaning you can arrange treaties or start wars—it's all up to you, son.”

“Wonderful. Any more burdens you'd like to add?”

“Naw, I just wanted to be sure you understood that you are calling the shots. I got all the faith in the world in you, Billy Ray, otherwise I wouldn't have hired you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“And one last piece of advice—just between me and you, I think leavin' sooner rather than later would be a good thing. I wouldn't put it past those asshats in the Fleet to try and mess with your departure.”

“I catch yer drift. As soon as I get everyone on board we're going to boost for the transit point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” TK replied. “Good luck and Godspeed, Captain.”

* * * * *

Billy Ray's face disappeared from the wall in TK's study. Maria, who had been standing just out of camera range, stepped closer to her significant other and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I really hope you know what you are doing, TK. I worry about those
niños
like they were my own.”

“Our own,
querida
. I'll feel better when they are away and safe.”

“Si, then all they have to dread are hostile aliens and hazardous strange planets. What is happening to the people here in the solar system?”

“What always happens after a war—at least a war we've won. The real warfighters go back to doin' what they want, like Cincinnatus returning to his farm. Meanwhile, the schemers, politicians and other assorted snakes-in-the-grass slither out from beneath the rocks they hid under when the real fighting was goin' on.”

“Why can't you stop them,
mi vida?
You and the council run this place.”

“We're not dictators, Maria, and thank God for that. No small group of people ought to hold absolute sway over all of humanity. As far as I'm concerned everyone has the right to pursue their own happiness, as long as they don't hurt anyone else. But there's always a group of busybodies that want to tell others what to do and how to live their lives.”

“You mean like this junta of bad Navy officers?”

“Yeah, and in time there will be others. We can't really get rid of them all. We need to keep growing the Fleet in case we run into more of the Dark Lords' minions and nothing dampens morale like a purge of the officer corps. So we gotta' counterbalance 'em with another force so they can't take over and really mess things up.”

“By that you mean the Company.”

“Yes, an association of independent, armed merchantmen roaming the stars, ensurin' that the Fleet doesn't have a monopoly on interstellar travel.”

“And it is not just a scheme to make you and your friends richer?”

“Without money we can't compete with the military or the various governments that are sure to come.”

“You really don't like governments, do you?” 

“A government is a body of people, usually notably ungoverned. Unfortunately we seem to need them and until all of humanity turns into philosopher kings or attains total enlightenment that ain't gonna change. So until that day, we need to take steps to avoid sinkin' into a totalitarian socialist cesspool. To help keep that from happening, Billy Ray and friends are on their way to becoming rich merchants in their own right—assuming they are as smart and as competent as I think they are.”

“I hope you are right, TK.”

“Life's a gamble,
mi corazón
, and you can't win if you don't play.”

Bridge, Peggy Sue

All hands were aboard and the ship made ready to sail; the Captain was on the bridge and all stations manned. Billy Ray, seated in the captain's chair overlooking the helm and forward weapon stations, spoke through the 1MC, the ship wide PA system.

“Attention all hands, this is the Captain. Prepare for immediate departure. This is not a drill.”

He then placed a call to port control, to let them know the Peggy Sue was departing.

“Farside Port Control, Peggy Sue.”

“Peggy Sue, Farside. Go ahead.”

“Be advised that the Peggy Sue is underway and outbound. Please advise all local traffic, over.”

“Peggy Sue, interrogative your destination?”

“Somewhere in the starry firmament, Farside.”

There was a pause.

“Peggy Sue, be advised that we have a hold request on your departure from a Capt. Perlmutter at Fleet.”

“Perlmutter?” said Bobby. “That tool from BUPERS?”

“That tosser could ruin a piss up at a free bar,” said Nigel Lewis, a former Fleet officer and Peggy Sue veteran who was seated at the helm next to Bobby.

“You're not wrong about that, Mr. Lewis,” added Beth, who was standing beside the captain's chair.

“Farside, be advised we are underway,” Billy Ray replied. “Helm, lift the ship and proceed to the exit portal.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” said Bobby.

The raucous call of a klaxon sounded throughout the ship as the Peggy Sue lifted on its repulsors and slid smoothly from its berth. Once free of the dock structure it turned and floated upward, toward the large featureless expanse of metal that was the ceiling of the dock area. While seemingly solid, the overhead was actually a large piece of T'aafhal composite. Selectively permeable, it was capable of holding a gaseous atmosphere inside while letting solid objects, like the Peggy Sue, pass through to the vacuum of space. Green lights around the giant hatch's perimeter indicated that the portal was open. 

“Peggy Sue, Fleet is demanding that you return to your berth. Something about an AWOL Marine being on board your vessel.”

Another party entered the conversation.

“Peggy Sue, Fleet HQ, this is Capt. Perlmutter. I suspect that there is an AWOL Marine on board your ship. I demand you return your ship for inspection.”

“Fleet HQ, there are no active duty Fleet or Marine personnel on board this vessel. Break. Farside, Fleet has no jurisdiction over civilian traffic. We are departing as stated.”

“Fleet HQ, Farside, Capt. Vincent confirms no AWOL Fleet personnel on board his vessel. Peggy Sue, you are clear to depart.”

“Thank you Farside, Vincent out.”

“Helm, take us out and on an immediate vector for our transit point.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Bobby said with a grin.

“You lied to him,” observed Beth.

“'One ought always to lie, when one can do good by it',” the Captain replied, clasping his hands across his chest smiling.

“That sounds like another one of your literary quotations.”

“Mark Twain,” he replied, quite pleased with himself, “from 'On the Decay of the Art of Lying'.”

“Clearing the portal now, Captain,” Bobby called out from the helm.