The Bright Black Sea (73 page)

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Authors: C. Litka

Tags: #space opera, #space pirates, #space adventure, #classic science fiction, #epic science fiction, #golden age science fiction

BOOK: The Bright Black Sea
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'And your glory as well, lad. What a yarn it'll make
too!' replied Rafe.

Like I'm likely to live to tell it.

'You did it all, I didn't do a thing!'

'You gave the order, taking the last and most
dangerous step, risking all. As our Captain, the glory is
yours!'

'How's this for glory, Rafe? Go back and explain to
them that
Explora Miner
could never have handled the three
Martin Class frigates awaiting it, so we're not the cause of their
defeat,' I replied.

'Alas, lad, I fear there'd be little glory in that,'
sighed Rafe as he opened the flier's hatch. 'Just gore, and it'll
be mine. But if you seek even more glory, explain it to them
yourself.'

'I've my fill of glory,' I said, climbing in after
him. 'I'm sure they'll get over it, in time.'

'This is the drifts, Wil. Neither they nor their
children will ever get over it,' said Vynnia.

The prospect of people tripping over each other
trying to kill me seemed more real with each passing day and my
corresponding prospect of ever getting out of the drifts alive,
ever more remote. No good deed goes unpunished.

The flier dropped us off near the gig, and we were
about to go aboard when the slight figure emerged from the shadows
of a neighboring boat.

'A word with you, Captain?' said a quiet, but vaguely
familiar voice. This time he came prepared. He held a darter in his
hand. Looked like a universal, packing either lethal or non-lethal
plasma darts.

'Ah... The fellow I was telling you about the other
day, the Saint Bleyth chap I met in the cha house. You see, they do
learn,' I said bitterly. And turning back to the mercenary, I
added, 'I've still nothing to say to you. You know my terms. A
darter in hand doesn't change them.'

'Captain, it wouldn't kill you to tell him what he
wants to know. It might if you don't,' Vynnia said quietly.

I still wasn't in the mood, darter or no. With
Vynnia, ex-Patrol, and the wily Rafe at my side, I felt safe enough
defying this tactician.

'Oh, no. No danger of that. He's a tactician, not an
assassin. Different bailiwick altogether. They have their code of
ethics...'

There was a flash of blue and I lost interest in the
conversation.

Later, back aboard the ship, in the medic bay under
the healing machine that was erasing the scrape on my forehead
where it met the tarmac, and the usual headache from the dart, I
asked Vynnia, 'Well, what did he want?'

'Just what he asked for. With all the free lance
mercenaries either dead or dispersed before they had a chance to
interview them, he wanted to know just what happened and why. An
after action report.'

'And did you give him one?'

'I felt the charter fee entitled him to one,' she
replied, stiffly.

'Professional courtesy,' I shot back.

'Common decency, Captain.'

'Do you plan on extending common decency to the
assassin who kills Tallith as well?'

She glared at me, not replying only because she
remembered I was her superior officer and could say things like
that with impunity, at least by her code.

'And I hope you emphasized that he died living up to
their code. I'm certain it made it all worthwhile.'

'I don't think you understand. Or perhaps, you're
just being deliberately obtuse. D'Lay undertook to defend us, and
did so, though it cost him his life...'

'And seven others.'

'And sever others who had signed on for that type of
duty. I'm certain you'd do the same if it meant saving your ship,
Captain.'

'I'd hope that I'll see that it never comes down to
that. But enough. Was he his lover, a friend, or just a clerk?'

She shrugged. 'I couldn't tell. The loss seemed felt
deeply, but that might have been the reaction throughout the
organization. I gather the operational side of the Order's not all
that large, and very close, so the lose of an entire fighter wing
would be felt deeply by all.'

I knew she was speaking from her experience as a
Patrol officer, and I should respect that, but the arrogance of one
hand trying to kill Min and me and the other coming asking for
favors simply rubbed me the wrong way.

'No doubt it put a dent in their profits from the
war. I doubt Boscone paid for services not delivered. Plus, D'Lay
suspected that someone in the St Bleyth Prime Monastery was
cheating and tipping off Despar against him, not to mention all the
other St Bleyth operatives hired out to Despar. Did you ask him if
he'd gotten all their reports as well?' I asked, just to remind her
what sort of people we were dealing with rather than any interest
in the answer.

She gave me a sharp look. 'I believe Admiral Rodine
was more than capable of managing his own war without hired help.
He just didn't know where to draw the lines.'

'Right. Enough of this. What, if anything, did you
learn from talking with that Patrol official after the trial?

She shrugged. 'It's now obvious that we were being
held for Rodine's trial. Our part in the whole affair was supposed
to be kept secret, though as we know, it leaked a little before the
trial. Perhaps leaked by someone in the Admiral's defense team.

'However, we still have problems of our own. The
Patrol cannot just turn a blind eye to our activity, especially
since we played a significant part in the whole affair. They must
consider not only our semi-active role in carrying D'Lay's forces
into battle, but our subsequent destruction of
Explora Miner
and the lives we may've saved by doing so. Plus, it's been hinted,
there's an ancient law in the Unity Code that places a bounty on
the capture or destruction of a rogue machine outside of the
Machine Drifts, so that we could be eligible to receive a large
bounty. The law in question goes back to the post revolt period and
has not been exercised in several thousand years. Apparently the
rogue machines that survive are wily enough not to fall into the
hands of Rafe gil'Giles.'

'So?'

'So, it's a giant procedural knot that's going to
take time to unravel. The Admiral's trial unraveled part of it, but
there are still things that need be determined, probably at the
Patrol HQ level or even somewhere in the bowls of Unity Prime
itself.'

'Meaning, we're not going anywhere for months, years,
decades?'

'Weeks, at least,' Vynnia admitted.

'Is there anything we can do to speed the process up.
The longer we stay in orbit here, the greater the chance that
Tallith's assassin will've made her way here. And remember, Saint
Bleyth knows we're here... They don't like failure. They might not
wait.'

She gave me a look. Like it was my fault.

'Can your parents do anything to help us?' I asked,
remembering that Vynnia's parents were both Patrol Admirals.

She looked away and scowled. 'I'll contact them, if I
have to. But I'm hoping that it won't be necessary. I'm hoping that
just having them in the offing will be enough, especially now that
our usefulness in convicting Admiral Rodine is no longer a
factor.'

'I know you're doing your best, Vyn,' I said to
smooth things over, adding, 'I trust you. And I know that you and
Ten are doing everything that can be done to protect our owner.
Please forgive my impatience.'

 

05

Vynnia and Tenry went down this morning to make our
daily call on Patrol Headquarters. Vyn, perhaps having some
reservations about letting me wander about on the loose, suggested
that she and Tenry visit HQ today, with some tale about Tenry
perhaps knowing someone she didn't... Well, with the Legion of the
New Order on the loose and now looking for revenge, Vyn would be
safer with Ten at her side, who, I'm certain, could hit something
with his darter beyond 30 centimeters, so I didn't kick about being
left behind. They returned late in the afternoon, with no news
about our status. They did, however bring other news, for Tallith,
which I didn't learn until the conclusion of my evening rounds.

I was visiting my feline friends in the dim lit and
shadowed no. 4 hold, when it darkened slightly. I turned to see the
tall silhouette of Tallith Min swinging out of the main access
well.

'I thought I saw you go up,' she said.

'Just finishing up my rounds and visiting my
friends,' I replied, standing up as they scattered into the
shadows.

'You seem to have become their patron saint.'

'We bonded in the wyrm weather, any orbit in a
quantum storm, I suppose.'

'We need to have a talk, Wil,' she said, looking
around. 'Here if you like, or in my quarters.'

'Your choice.' Something was up.

She shrugged and nodded to some cases in a shadowed
corner. 'Let's find a seat.'

I followed her and took a seat beside her. It was
dark, so I was dealing with little more than a lightly outlined
shadow.

'Vyn and Ten were talking to certain people today at
Patrol HQ. People in the Patrol's Special Intelligence Department,'
she began. 'I'll spare you the details, but the essence of their
conversation is that the Patrol feels that they're in need of more
eyes and ears in the drifts. They offered Vyn and Ten a job in that
capacity. It would be informal, undercover work, little more than
trading through the drifts and reporting all they pick up as they
go.

'To facilitate this, they offered Vyn and Ten a prize
of the recent war, a small ten year old class 3 eight-box trader
mounting an oversized class 5 engine, making it a very powerful
ship for its class. It was built as a supply ship for the regular
Despar Navy with its control and crew quarters forward, followed by
the eight box hold with fuel tanks and engines aft. It's a
smuggler's delight and is now in Patrol custody on some rock on the
fringe of the Despar Reef. The idea was that Vyn and Ten and
several other undercover Patrol agents – a three or four person
crew would be all that would be needed to run it – would take it
about the drifts as a tramp “trader” picking up and relaying gossip
to the Patrol HQ every now and again.

'While they were flattered, they were about to make
their final refusal when it occurred to Vyn that it was exactly the
type of ship I was looking for to continue my search... ' she
paused and continued, 'Of course, being able to afford to buy such
a craft, even a five hundred year old one would exhaust our credit
reserves. But Vyn proposed that the Patrol sell the craft to us,
Vyn, Ten and I, since my goal and the Patrol's goals were
essentially complimentary. The three of us would take this ship
into the drifts. I could use it to track down the thin leads found
in the log and search for others, Vyn and Ten could continue to
look after me, while at the same time, we'd be doing the Patrol's
work as well – drifting and picking up gossip. In addition to
having a far better ship that I'd ever dreamed of having, we'd have
the option of calling on the Patrol if the situation warranted it.
It seemed an ideal solution to everyone's goals,' she said in a
carefully neutral conversational tone.

'That was not exactly what the Patrol people had in
mind,' she continued, 'but after some discussion, Vyn agreed to
taking on a fourth crew member, one of the special branch people,
since it would make running the ship easier for all, and the Patrol
would have one of their regular people on board to justify the sale
of the ship at a very discounted price. That's the proposal they
brought back to me this afternoon. Vyn, Ten and I would pool our
personal resources and buy the ship outright at a very nominal
price. We'd hire their regular agent and go off trading into the
drifts. The Patrol would provide some initial trade goods – surplus
Despar Navy goods – to get us started. Anytime within the next ten
years we can call it quits and sell the ship back to them for the
price we paid. After that period, the ship would be ours to do with
what we want.

'I've decided to take the offer,' she ended, pausing
only briefly to allow any objection on my part. My mind was racing
ahead. Still, I'd not have been able to think fast enough to say
anything. I'd a feeling there was nothing to say.

'First off, I want to emphasize that I'm using my own
credits and not touching any the
Lost Star
has in its
account. I am, of course, depriving you of three crew members who
I'm sure you'll be reluctant to replace here on Despar. However,
once freed, you're looking at one long passage to the Aticor system
where you can replace the staff with solid Guild choices. I think
it wouldn't be too great a hardship.

'You'll have a free hand to run the ship with a
substantial cushion of credits to start off with. I've complete
confidence in you. This idea of mine about going to the drifts has
turned out to be something of a disaster, though a lucrative
disaster. Hopefully, going along with the Patrol's plan to use Vyn
and Ten, we can get things moving on the
Lost Star
as well.
I hope that between this and the result of the inquest, we'll not
face any harsh penalties. You can repair the engine once you reach
the Aticor system, and resume tramping as you see fit. Still, I
realize it won't be easy to start new, but I don't see that I can
be of any help whether or not I'm aboard. If you find yourself in
dire straights, contact Min & Co. Kardea can raise funds from
my brother, who has them but doesn't want them. That's the best I
can do.'

'If we can keep the Bleyth credits, we'll get by just
fine. In any event, the engine can be managed until we can earn
enough credits to reline the bell without touching our reserves, so
that shouldn't be a problem,' I muttered, just to say something
while I considered what I needed to do and say.

'I realize, Wil, that this isn't exactly the way
you'd have liked things to work. But it isn't that far off either.
You talked about earning enough credits to buy a ship just like I'm
buying now to pursue my quest. It's happened far sooner than you
may have envisioned, but I'll not have another opportunity like
this again. You also wanted Vyn and Ten to accompany me, which was
never my intent, so that's going your way too. I'll also have a
trained Patrol Intelligence Agent onboard. I don't think you can
accuse me of being reckless. I'm sure the Patrol will have some say
in where we go and in any event, we'll owe them some return on
their investment, so I won't be rushing off on the faintest hint of
a clue. I'll be forced to take my time...' she paused. 'I really
don't think you can complain too much.'

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