The Bright Black Sea (104 page)

'What makes it so special, other than being a walking
chart?'

'Laugh if you like. But it's being a walking chart
that makes me special. Imagine if you will, a deep reef. So deep
that you can't find a point of reference distant enough to act as a
base – not speck of light reaches this deep reef. And picture the
rocks in this reef moving every which way. Maybe there's a pattern,
and if you had the computing power, you might be able to discover
it, and if you had even more, you might be able to predict when
rocks will collide and what that'll do to the future pattern. And
you'd have to project this out for years and years... You see where
I'm coming from?

'Aye, I get the idea. But how realistic is that
scenario?'

'Well, where I'm from, it's very real. You see, if I
found a gold asteroid in that deep reef, I could lead you right
back to that gold rock a year, ten years or a hundred years later
no matter how many times it had been bounced about. I'd know where
to find it in the blackness, just as I could find the old
Lark
in the middle of the Nebula. It's all up here,' he
said, tapping his forehead with a thick, powerful finger. 'And
where I come from, finding that gold asteroid, or any other place
pretty much depends on knowing not where it was, cause it isn't
there anymore – and all the guide posts have moved and changed –
but where it is now. And that requires a fellow like ol'Glen
Colin.'

'Why don't you just put a beacon on it?' I asked.

'A good question. Because you want to keep your gold
asteroid secret, you see, so you don't go about broadcasting its
position. Any beacon can be found, Right? And any code broken to
bring one to life, if it's known to be out there. And they only
work by broadcasting to anyone who happens to be listening. Oh
they've their uses, but not for the gold asteroids. To find the
gold asteroids, they use the likes of us, and only us. And well,
the drifts are mighty big, and beacons can only send so far. It's
so much easier, and more secure just to have a good guide
onboard.'

'And you're a good one.'

'Aye. When I'm drunk enough.'

'Only when you're drunk enough? Or is that just your
story?'

He grinned. 'Alas, lad. All too true. This here is
this guide fuel,' he said, lifting his glass and taking another
long draw. 'But , it appears I can find my way about when I'm a
dreaming too. But there's no profit in that, is there? Not for my
employer, any how.'

'And who's your employer?'

He put his finger to the side of his nose. 'Ah,
that's what this is all about. The Prince sent me to fetch you. I
seem to have misplaced that thought a bit,' and glancing at his com
link, he added, 'And I suspect he'll be getting rather impatient.
Not a patient man, these days, the Prince. We'd best be on our
way.'

'Who wants to see me?' I asked again, though things
had become a bit clearer. It suddenly struck me that I'd likely
heard from him before. 'Who's this prince?'

'Ah, that, I'm not allowed to say. Verrry hush-hush.
Not a word.'

'I've been in the drifts too long to go off and see
someone someplace, just because they send someone to fetch me,' I
replied. 'Your employer can stop up to the ship if he cares to talk
to me. It's been a pleasure crossing orbits with you again, Chief,
and well, sort of clearing up a mystery. But I must be pushing
along. I want to clear orbit as soon as we get our reactors wound
up. My regards to your boss,' I said, rising. I was curious, of
course, but not that curious. 'Maybe next time...'

'Ah, now, Cap'n. Don't be hasty. There's nothing to
be alarmed about. An old friend just wants to become
reacquainted.'

'Well, I'll need a name, and he knows where and how
to find me,' I replied. 'Fair Orbits, Chief.'

He made another muffled objection as he quickly
downed the last of his drink, but I didn't hesitate. I'd a sudden
feeling I needed to lift. Fast. I pushed through the door into the
grey, rainy afternoon and paused to turn up my collar to cross the
boulevard when two others pushed through the door behind me. I'm
not sure I saw the faint blue light of the darter reflected in the
entry way, but let's just write it in anyway. It fits into the
usual pattern for these affairs.

02

I was sprawled half on, half off a chair, and when I
stirred, I heard someone say 'He's coming to, call the boss.'

My head hurt. It does every time I'm darted. How many
times has it been? It hurt too much to count. Too many, anyway.

Despite the sharp headache, I found myself remarkably
calm. Non-lethal darts vary in charge, and from my pounding head, I
rather hoped they'd used a strong one since it would mean that I'd
been out for several hours. My com link would've alerted Botts the
moment I'd been darted – we'd all had several small tracking tags
in us these days, just for situations like this – so my crew should
have a pretty good idea where to find me. What I didn't know was
how difficult it'd be to rescue me. Still, if Molaye and Botts
couldn't pull off a rescue between them, I don't know who could.
And well, since the Boss or the Prince – likely the party that had
tried to charter us – seemed eager to talk, things might not be too
desperate. Indeed, I was actually rather curious to see the
Prince.

I surveyed my position through slightly opened eyes –
a small office by the looks of it. I'd been dumped in a chair
facing a large desk with two large men, each holding down a corner
of it. My sissy and com link were on the far side of the desk, just
out of reach. I'd a feeling the men were just waiting for me to
lunge towards them, so I decided, no, not yet and so the three of
us waited in silence for the boss.

My guards stood and stepped back as the door behind
me slid open with a soft whoosh.

'Wake up, Litang. I haven't time for this nonsense
and I resent the need to go to this length to get your attention.
Don't annoy me further by playing coy,' said the shadowy figure in
my barely opened eyes. He settled on the recently vacated edge of
the desk. I'd heard that voice before, but couldn't immediately
place it, save it took me back to the days when I was known as
Litang. Azminn days. I pried my eyes wide open and had a look.

And shut them again, to try to think.

'What, no glad greeting for your owner?'

I opened them again and stared at the figure perched
on the edge of the desk, with a sarcastic grin looking down at at
me.

'You're dead,' I croaked.

'If I am, so are you,' Hawker Vinden replied,
spreading his arms. 'But I don't think we're beyond the event
horizon yet. Do you?'

I just stared at him, half wishing I was. It'd make
more sense.

'Don't gawk, Litang. You've slept too long and wasted
too much of my valuable time as it is. We need to got down to
business. I need to talk to my niece. I know she sailed with you
from Calissant and hasn't returned. Is she aboard? If she's not,
how do I contact her?'

'Who, or rather what in the Neb are you?' I asked, no
doubt still gawking.

'Who or what? Are you blind or just muddled? I'm your
owner, Hawker Vinden. You know, the fellow who appointed you acting
captain when Miccall died. Have you forgotten me already? Neb only
knows why my niece kept you on. Seni Shir must not have been
available,' he growled.

'You didn't leave any instructions...' I pointed out
weakly – a trivial observation, senseless really, but I was trying
to get my bearings, so I added, 'Jann turned the
Comet King
over to Seni when he bought his planet trader half a year after you
died.' And it struck me that I had already told him about that.
Somewhere. Somehow. But I couldn't imagine when.

'Damn. Can't think of everything. Still, she had to
have had better options than an inexperienced first mate.'

'Well, no,' I replied, still buying time. 'By the
time the
Lost Star
arrived in Calissant orbit tramps were
being laid up right and left. Any out of work captain with ambition
didn't hang about Calissant. Dunnet, Kadalar and Ambon had already
gone in with Jann to buy four 24 box planet traders. I was the best
Min had on hand. And by Neb, I turned out to be a pretty Neb-damned
good captain at that. Made a blasted fortune for her.'

I studied him closely as I talked. Was he a clone or
one of the fabled eternal men – a robot like Botts with a
pseudo-bio veneer and human's brain imprinted in its microchip
memory? Such things were rumored to have been possible back in the
ancient days, though illegal even . Not that being illegal would
stop the Four Shipmates...

He shrugged. 'So I hear. Lucky, anyway – which
sometimes is just as good, while it lasts. But enough of this fond
reminiscing – you're here for business. As I said, I need to talk
to my niece. Make it happen, Litang. I haven't a lot of patience
these days, and never had with idiots.'

I shook my head. 'Sorry, I don't know who or what you
are. Vinden was blown to pieces in a needle rocket explosion, so
what are you, a clone? An eternal man? A ghost like Glen Colin? And
why should I trust you, anyway?

'Damn'it, Litang, I'm Hawker Vinden in the flesh and
obviously, I didn't die.'

'There didn't seem to be any doubt back back that you
had. They found your remains and there was sensor evidence as
well.' Not only was I curious, I knew that once he found out I
couldn't help him find Min, he wasn't going to be in a talkative
mood.

He sighed. 'The whole needle rocket explosion was my
escape route, Litang. We, at least the Mins and I, had always had
several escape routes in place – though we may've gotten careless.
Perhaps we'd come to believe that they had given up after all the
years. But it seems they hadn't. Tragically, we didn't find that
out until Onala and Martindale were killed. Miccall was too old and
broken down to care anymore. Don't know if they pushed him over the
horizon, or if he just slipped over himself, but I still had my
line of escape and I took it – the needle racer accident.'

'How?' I asked, watching him.

'I don't have time for this,' he snapped, but perhaps
realizing that a simple explanation could speed my cooperation,
relented. 'I had prepared well in advance to run. The needle rocket
explosion was a carefully planned set piece. I had spare body parts
cloned and grown to provide sufficient pieces to identify me after
the explosion. I had my yacht's sensor system rigged so that I
could disappear at will from it, so some of my actions prior to the
explosion were off the record and all of them after the explosion
were. Years ago, I'd made a multi-sensor recording of the scene in
the needle rocket hangar, right up to the explosion and saved it to
be inserted into the sensor log, if and when, the time came to
disappear. On the day I died, I carefully timed the needle rocket
explosion, disappeared off the ship's sensors near the hangar bay,
inserted the pre-recorded scene of my appearance in the hangar
seamless into the ship's log so that it appeared that I was
actually in the hangar at the time. We're talking about
environmental sensors here, not visual, so it needn't be too
elaborate, a mere bio ID of me was in the needle rocket bay when
the timed explosion of the rocket went off. Parts of my body were
found in the wreckage. Open and shut, unless anyone had a reason to
suspect otherwise. The Patrol didn't and neither did my family. As
for my enemies, well, I always operate on the premise they're never
completely fooled, which is why I've taken so many precautions and
have been so patient when it comes to dealing with you and my
ship.'

'Still, that only explains how you faked your death.
You still had to get away, and that would need the help of other
people. People who you couldn't assume would not be mind
probed.'

'You're right in that regard, but I didn't need
anyone. I'd a gig onboard my yacht with a hidden bolt hole built
into it where I could hide for months, if need be, sleeping in a
cocoon sleeper (a suspended animation pod constructed of D-matter
fabric with a small portable stasis unit). As part of my plan, I'd
sold the gig to one of my front companies in a dissenting colony on
Saypori's moon Nivnarna weeks prior to the explosion and had
arranged for it to be delivered following the explosion. There was,
of course some delays in getting it to Saypori, what with the
tragic event and all, but being in suspended animation, it didn't
matter how long it took. I was a quantum man, both dead, and alive.
When it was eventually delivered to the hangar I'd prepared – this
was, after all my own company as well – a beacon triggered the
re-animate process of my cocoon bringing me back to life.

'The fact is, I'd never given up the fight. I'd been
secretly building a business empire for the last half of a century
to carry on with our mission so I'd resources to fall back on. Once
awake, I was off to the drifts – which, while more dangerous,
offered more freedom of action than the Unity. As long as I kept my
continued existence a secret and my operations unremarkable, I was
safe enough. This happens to be one of my firms. I've used its
facilities to build what I need and I've been ready to act for
several years, now. All I needed was my ship, which you've now
brought to me. A bit of luck, though you've been so uncooperative
before. But with you in hand, I intend to claim it. So get my niece
on the com.'

I shook my head. Couldn't put it off any longer.
'She's not aboard. Hasn't been for years. She's somewhere in the
drifts looking for the answers you didn't share. And I haven't
heard from her since she left.'

'You want me to believe she left you in charge of my
ship without having some way to contact you?'

'We agreed to communicate through Kardea at Min &
Co. The thing is, she's deep in the drifts, doing undercover work
for the Patrol, and we're in hiding from St Bleyth, the same people
who killed the Mins, and tried to assassinate Tallith on
Calissant.'