Smuggler's Dilemma Read online

  "I’m not sure," he said. "I’ve only heard bits and pieces of your story and from what I can tell, you all get into it pretty deep. I know you’re concerned about security, but I need more details before I can answer. Ultimately I’m interested, but I want to know what I’m signing up for."

  "Fair enough," Nick said, "Your word that you won’t share what we’re about to tell you?"

  "You’ve got it." Jake nodded in agreement.

  "Marny?" Nick asked. In normal Nick style, he’d expected to have this conversation and had pre-arranged something with Marny.

  "As the security officer for our corporation, I’ve executed a public records search and looked into your background. You’ve led an interesting life, but from my perspective you pose no security threat to the company. I’ll send you the results of the research I’ve done. Please understand, that information will remain confidential between you and me," Marny said.

  "Thank you," Jake looked at all of us, perplexed. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "It's part of who we are and who we want to be. You need to know that we care enough to look into your background and that we don’t hide important information. It is all about trust. We get in enough scrapes that we can’t afford to be questioning each other."

  "I can work with that. So what would I be signing up for?" Jake asked.

  "Our primary goal is to be traders, but we’ve been mostly operating as freight haulers," Nick started. "As crew, that difference isn’t huge. As owners, the real money is in speculative runs. Secondarily, we have the designation from Mars Protectorate as Privateers. We carry a Letter of Marque that entitles us to defend ourselves and more importantly lay claim to sundered enemy assets. So far, the vast majority of our net worth has been derived from our secondary activities as Privateers."

  "That’s where you got the frigate?" Jake asked.

  "The frigate, Sterra’s Gift and even the Adela Chen," I added.

  "So, let me get this straight. You’ve made most of your money by plundering pirates. Doesn’t that make for enemies?"

  "No doubt it does, although it’s not like these guys are friendly towards anyone. So far, we haven’t been targeted and we certainly aren’t looking for trouble. It’s just that trouble seems to find us and we have a hard time turning our backs on it," I said. That felt like the understatement of the century.

  "So what does your next run look like?"

  "We have an outpost in Indian space. It’s one we took from the Red Houzi. We’re going to work our way out there, dismantle it and bring it back to Mars. We’ll stop by Colony 40 on the way back, which is where Liam and I come from," Nick answered. "Liam is lining up cargo deliveries along the way."

  "Unmanned base? Why haven’t they taken it back?" Jake asked.

  "The base is heavily defended and they know we pulled two cutters worth of cargo out. Our experience with pirates is that they understand value, probably more than most. They’re happy to take big risks as long as the reward is even bigger. The equipment they’d need to take down the base would likely destroy it, leaving them with nothing for their efforts. That’s my best guess," Nick answered.

  Jake nodded thoughtfully. "Why me? I’ve got no experience trading… or fighting pirates for that matter."

  "We’re dismantling the base and going to need help with the weapon systems. Your expertise would be valuable. We also always seem to be refitting ships. A real engineer would be a good addition," Nick answered.

  "Not to be too mercenary, but what’s my cut?"

  "Two things. First you’d get an officer’s share of each trip you participate in. Second, you get standard officer salary. This particular trip should be a good one. We consider the loot at the base to be at significant risk. Whatever goods are recovered will be included in your share with only fuel, O2 and food discounted. The recovered structures wouldn't be included. They’re considered assets of the corporation since they’re currently protecting the goods," Nick said.

  "How about crew allowance for cargo? What if I want to do some of my own trading?" Jake asked.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen Nick stumped, although it didn’t last long.

  "Sure. We don’t currently have an allowance for that, but that’s mainly because I hadn’t thought of it yet. Off the cuff I’d say that I’m okay with it. There would be two classes. First is cargo loaded last minute, after we’ve finalized our load. I’d be good with one-hundred fifty percent fuel cost. Second would be regularly scheduled cargo. We’ll give you five cubic meters and up to five hundred kilograms. In both cases, we’ll assume no risk and require a bill of lading."

  That was the Nick I knew - ready with a detailed answer in the space of a heartbeat.

  "I’m in." Jake held his hand out across the table to Nick. They shook.

  PACKING UP

  I eagerly awaited Tabby’s arrival at the shipyard. The fitters had finished up with the pilot’s chairs and I couldn’t have been happier. They were just as nice as what Ada had on the Adela Chen. I would have liked another twenty thousand to spend on interior upgrades, but everything we’d done so far was high quality, if a bit sparse.

  I was seated at the desk in the captain’s quarters working on scheduling our trip when I heard the now familiar chime of the airlock.

  Show airlock, I requested. Tabby waved at the camera.

  I ran out and hopped onto the grav-lift Nick had thoughtfully installed. His argument at the time had been safety. He didn’t want a hole in the floor of the bridge that people could fall through. I knew him well enough to know he’d put it in for me. I wasn’t sure what my problem with ladders was - I didn’t have trouble with most other activities - but ladders caused me no end of troubles.

  "I hope you didn’t mind me sending a cab. I had to babysit a work crew. Want to check out all the changes?" I asked.

  "What’s that?" Tabby pointed to the ceiling of the cargo hold. I looked up and saw a white square platform pushed up against the ceiling. I didn’t recognize it, nor had it been there a couple days ago when I’d been cleaning.

  "Frak, no idea," I shrugged. It was a five meter flat square with posts in each corner that stood around one-point-five meters tall.

  "Looks like a boxing ring," she offered.

  "What would you know about that?"

  "It’s popular at the Academy. Turns out I’m pretty good at it too, for someone who hasn’t boxed that is. You should see this kid, Glori. She’s smaller than me… quiet… you wouldn’t expect much, but she’s a killer. I can barely lay a glove on her. Does Marny box?"

  "I have no idea. Remind me to ask when Nick and Marny get back." I said.

  "Where are they?" she asked as I led her around the berth deck.

  "Puskar Stellar, they’re grabbing a quiet dinner together. We’ve been working pretty hard to get things shipshape."

  "I think you were successful. Everything looks so clean, I can’t tell we’re even in the same ship," she said.

  "You’re almost not. We’ve had every surface ground down, filled in and repainted. The only remaining furniture is the table and couch in the main bridge and if we’d had enough money, we’d have replaced those too."

  "It’s awesome. It feels less cramped than your last ship," she said. I agreed, but the mention of Sterra’s Gift made me feel homesick.

  "I’m just finishing our schedule for the next run. It’ll only take me a few minutes. Check out the bridge while I finish, then I’m all yours."

  We rode the lift up to the bridge deck and I sat back at my desk and got to work.

  After a few minutes, Tabby lost interest and walked into my small bedroom, which had little more than a bed and shelving that served as a footlocker. I heard her flop on the bed.

  Forty minutes later I finished, happy with my progress.

  "Are you up for a ride?" I asked, standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

  "Where we going?"

  I jumped on the bed next to her and pulled her into a hug. She initially resist
ed, letting me know she didn’t appreciate being ignored. We wrestled for a few minutes and ended up making out. I wasn’t so sure I liked her provincial rules about how far we could go, but I was willing to live with it.

  "You didn’t answer me. Where’re we going?"

  "Other side of Mars. City called Deivid."

  "What's there?" she asked.

  "Three hundred fifty cubic meters of equipment."

  "Where is that going?" she asked

  "Can’t say. If I told you, what’s to prevent you from telling your friends at the Academy, who will tell their friends? Eventually, pirates hear about it and then I’m handing over my load to some crazy warlord." I tickled her as I talked.

  "You don’t trust me?"

  "You gonna keep it to yourself?"

  She gave me pouty lips and I figured I’d driven my point home well enough. I wasn’t specifically worried that she’d say anything, but I felt like I needed to make sure she understood.

  "Yes," she relented.

  "We’re taking off tomorrow for the Valhalla Platform. First shift, Ada’s headed to the Navy yard to pick up a load of un-named cargo with the tug. It must be heavy, because they’re giving us an extra fuel allowance. We’re not getting a lot for that load, otherwise. But it’ll cover fuel out to Colony 40 and back."

  "Is that where the Deivid equipment is headed? Valhalla Platform?" she asked.

  "Nope, that’s going to Terrence." I didn’t need to explain where that was since we’d both grown up on Colony 40 and Terrence was the second closest colony to our home.

  Tabby sprung over the top of me and landed neatly next to the bed. "Let’s go, old man. I want to see this thing under sail."

  To say I was a little apprehensive about landing the Hotspur on Mars was an understatement. I knew the ship handled well and that all her systems had been thoroughly checked. I’d felt no hesitation when bringing Sterra’s Gift down through the atmosphere. For some reason, this flight made me nervous. Tabby was all business when I showed her our checklist and we ran through the systems one by one, seeing green light after green light.

  "External inspection?" she asked.

  "I’m not following?"

  "Probably applies to fighters more than bigger ships, but we have to do a visual inspection. I wouldn’t mind seeing this old girl up-front and personal though," Tabby said. I didn’t think it was necessary, but I was game for an EVA.

  Tabby and I jetted around the ship. I was glad I’d taken her advice. We didn’t find anything wrong, but with all of the activity going on inside, I hadn’t had much chance to appreciate the unique design of this ship. Floating back, looking at her straight on, I took in my new ship. I liked the stubby, curved wings. They made me think of a falcon, diving after its prey. She’d have to prove herself to me, but she sure looked good, sitting here at rest.

  "That’s one gorgeous ship," I said to Tabby once we were back in the airlock.

  "Careful, Hoffen. I’m the jealous type," she replied.

  I sank back into the pilot’s chair. It was a little stiffer than I liked, but the fitter told me we’d break it in over the first year. I pulled on the battle harness, more because I was curious than worried, but Tabby followed suit. Generally, the gravity and inertial systems would keep the ship smooth, even during an atmospheric entry.

  "You ready for this?" I asked.

  "Hit it."

  It would have been a lot more dramatic if we hadn’t been sailing through Puskar Stellar local space. There were too many ships around and we all had to stick to a narrow corridor of travel. The constraints took away that sense of freedom I so enjoyed while sailing. Fortunately, we broke free of the traffic after half an hour and I cranked up the throttle.

  "Faster," Tabby demanded.

  "Grab the stick, Tabs. It’s all yours," I said. I didn’t have to say it twice and was glad I hadn’t engaged the combat override as she pushed it up to a hundred percent.

  "Whoo hoo!" she screamed, every bit the fighter jock.

  We arrived in orbit over Deivid more quickly than I’d planned, but I didn’t think it’d be a problem.

  "I’m going to take control back, Tabs," I said.

  "What a rush. I love this beast," she answered.

  "Do I have anything to worry about?" She just smiled back at me. I already knew the answer. Once she was given her own fighter, I wouldn’t be able to compete with it. That was okay, because I also knew her ship wouldn’t be able to love her back.

  Once we were within Mars’s atmosphere, I discovered the joy of flying a ship with wings. Initially it took some getting used to, but the AI easily made up the difference. The dynamics of actual flight were much different from simply having to overpower gravity. The wings provided no small amount of lift at the speed we were going.

  "Urgent hail from Deivid Air Defense," my AI announced.

  Accept comm. "Hotspur, go ahead," I answered.

  "You’ve entered Deivid Air Defense controlled air space. State your business."

  "We’re a commercial ship, picking up a load of equipment from the Wellington factory," I responded.

  "Maintain altitude and bearing. Wait One."

  "Roger." I pulled back on the stick, slowed our speed and stopped descending.

  "Hotspur, you’re early. Proceed on transmitted course." My HUD showed a tight navigation path that ended at the factory.

  "Roger," I replied.

  "Not extra friendly, are they?" Tabby acknowledged.

  "I guess not."

  The setting sun glinted off a tall white wall that surrounded the entire city of Deivid. I’d never seen a walled city before and wondered how effective it could be when arc-jet technology was so prevalent.

  "What do you suppose that wall is about?" I asked Tabby as we flew over the top. We could see gun emplacements built into the top of the wall.

  "Has to be to keep out raiders. Those walls are at least a hundred meters tall so arc-jets wouldn’t lift anything real heavy over them. They must have some unhappy neighbors. Kind of explains our reception."

  I nodded, noting that I needed to pay better attention to things like this. I’d just blithely assumed that all of Mars was completely civilized. This place looked more like a fort than a city.

  We soon came upon the Wellington factory, a kilometer long building that was well marked on the map I’d pushed up to the forward holo display. A factory communique had instructed us not to land. We’d be picking up the cargo without touching down, pulling the cargo up with old fashioned cables.

  My AI caught movement to the aft of the ship. Two armed men rose up through the floor of the bay we were hovering over.

  "Greetings, Captain. We’ll be ready to load in ten minutes." His voice was friendly enough.

  "Roger that," I answered. Close comm.

  "They look like they mean business," Tabby observed.

  "You want to stay on the bridge? I have to oversee this from the hold and I'm changing into my armored suit first."

  "No way. I’m not missing this."

  "We’ve got extra armor, want to put one on?" I asked. "There’s one your size that’s never been worn."

  "Frak, yah I do," she answered.

  We hustled back to the hold and opened the container holding our armor and weapons. Marny had done a nice job welding in shelves, blaster chargers and suit hangers. Everything we needed was here, so we changed in the newly outfitted armory. I was glad to find my Ruger F0C heavy flechette, already loaded, in the rack. I snapped it into a holster that crossed in front of my chest. It didn’t look as cool as the hip or thigh holsters, but it was a lot easier to access.

  When I turned to look at Tabby, my breath caught in my throat. Something about a shapely woman in armor just got me fired up. "You’re hot." I said, almost involuntarily.

  "Back at you. That’s quite a gun you have there," she said.

  "Marny picked it up for me. She thinks I need to use a flechette and not a blaster. Are you allowed to carry when you’re no
t at the Academy?"

  "Nothing specifically prevents it. I’d prefer not to get into any trouble, though. I don’t need that kind of attention."

  I plucked a heavy blaster from the rack and handed it to her.

  "Ultimately, I just need you to stand with me and keep your eyes out for anything suspicious. Nothing’s going to happen, though. If it does, just take cover," I said. "Ready?" I turned to walk out of the container.

  "I feel bad ass," she said and slapped my butt.

  It’s hard not to strut a little with that type of encouragement and I was feeling pretty big while we watched the floor drop out of the bottom of the hold.

  Finally, an unarmed man rose into the cargo bay below just behind the two guards. He arc-jetted into the hold with a friendly hand extended. I stepped forward and shook it. He held up a reading pad with a familiar cargo program running on it, touching it to my pad. Working with union stevedores had made loading old-hat and I was happy to see that Wellington followed the same conventions. With his list loaded on my reading pad, I waited for the first crate to rise up into the hold so I could add it to my bill of lading. Each of the crates were at least ten cubic meters and we loaded all twenty-eight in two hours.

  It felt good to have the hold almost two-thirds full. I’d chosen to stack from bottom to top, leaving a small corridor around the outside of the crates.

  "Sign here," the corporate representative requested. I did and he left the way he came, sinking down through the landing pad. I wasn’t surprised to see that the two guards remained. They weren't leaving until we did.

  "Ready to get out of here?" I asked Tabby, once again distracted by her in the armored suit.

  "Let’s do it," she answered.

  Close cargo bay, I instructed.

  Back in the cockpit, I hailed Deivid’s Air Defense and asked for permission to leave. They sounded a little surprised that I’d asked and provided a much wider corridor for our departure. Apparently, they weren’t as picky about people leaving the city.