A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9) Page 7

  "That's one Captain Charles Norris," I said and sent the comm my AI had constructed based on our conversation.

  I looked across the room to where Anino sat. He was engrossed in whatever he was working on. I normally felt like I could read people, but Marny was right, the teenager was odd. I walked over to where Anino sat, with Nick close on my heel.

  "Anino, we're in, but we need to establish ground rules and we have business to take care of first," I said.

  He looked up from his project and set down tools I'd never seen before.

  "This should be good. What are your ground rules?" he asked.

  "My crew takes orders from no one but me and I don't take orders from anyone during combat. Bottom line is, if you're coming along, we're in charge," I said.

  "Is that it?"

  "You need to tell us right now why Belirand is keeping it secret that they can jump inexpensively," Nick said.

  "Once I tell you this, there's no going back," Anino said. "Are you sure?"

  Nick looked at me and I nodded my head. I wasn't sure what we were getting into, but it was hard to imagine Anino could say anything that would make saving forty-five people's lives not worth the trouble.

  "Tell us," Nick said.

  "Aliens," Anino said. "The universe is packed with 'em."

  "That's impossible. You can't keep that kind of secret," I said.

  "There are less than a hundred people in our four solar systems who know and, besides me, they're all under constant surveillance," Anino said.

  "That doesn't explain why Belirand keeps fold-space technology a secret," I said.

  "Are you saying we discovered aliens who would threaten humanity?" Nick asked.

  "No. But that's the fear," Anino said. "Don't get me wrong - we've run across some real doozies. But, imagine what would happen if a few million people started jumping to all ends of the universe."

  "Belirand is saying eventually we would find a species that would destroy humanity?" Nick asked. "That's stupid. You can't assume that."

  "But that's the bureaucratic mindset," Anino said. "All you have to do is believe in the possibility and fear will do the rest."

  "It's not unlike ancient North American history," Nick said. "The indigenous people initially welcomed the more technologically advanced Europeans and were all but wiped out."

  "An interesting angle on that, James. Take that fear and add the fact that Belirand has a monopoly on the TransLoc gates and can charge whatever they want. You end up here."

  "What's next?" I asked.

  "You're in?"

  "You just told us we could rescue Cape of Good Hope and discover aliens. How could we walk away from that?" I asked.

  "Be at this warehouse, 1000 tomorrow. And you're just in time, Jonathan, as usual." Anino turned away, picked up his current project and worked on fusing blocks of components together with bright lights.

  "I assume you've come to an arrangement." Jonathan said. "I've taken the liberty of preparing the shuttle. If you'll follow me."

  We followed him out to the shuttle.

  "I've called the chandler and set in supplies for four weeks," Marny said to Nick. "Did Anino say how long we'd be gone?"

  "If you'll pardon my eavesdropping, young miss," Jonathan said. "Our current plan calls for no more than three weeks."

  "I'll adjust to six, in that case," Marny said, giving me a wry grin.

  I looked to Jonathan. "Are you coming?"

  "I am. As brilliant as Master Anino is, he requires a certain amount of support staff," he said. "Where would you like me to take you?"

  "How much time do you have?" I asked.

  "I am at your disposal."

  "Don't you need to get back to Anino, to help him get ready?" Ada asked.

  "My colleagues are seeing to preparations as we speak."

  "Shipyard on Irène, if you don't mind," I said.

  "There are three such yards. I assume you are referring to the Menard shipyard where you are to meet Captain Charles Norris?"

  "That's a pretty good guess. Were you also eavesdropping on our conversation in the dome?" I asked.

  "No, Captain. I was able to locate Captain Norris's ship for sale by searching for available cargo ships and I simply correlated it to your stated need."

  "My apologies."

  "None necessary."

  ***

  The Menard shipyard on Curie's moon, Irène, turned out to be nothing more than a ten square kilometer bare patch on the otherwise verdant surface. Jonathan set the shuttle down next to a dilapidated building that was the only break in a four meter high fence. I wasn't sure of the purpose of the fence as at .15g clearing it would take no effort.

  "I'm not sure how long this'll take," I said and closed the helmet of my vac-suit. Irène's atmosphere was good to breath, but the temperature was a negative five degrees.

  "Hey, wait for me," Ada called and closed her suit.

  Her action spurred the rest of the crew to follow suit and we exited the shuttle, walking down the retractable ramp.

  I wasn't completely sure where to go, as all I knew was that Norris was waiting for us somewhere on the property. The most obvious location was the building we'd parked next to and I walked up and rapped on the door.

  "Coming," I heard a voice say from behind the door, just before it slid open. "Charles Norris," he said extending his hand. "You brought quite a crew with you. Hoffen, is it?"

  "It is," I said and shook his extended hand, introducing him to the rest of the crew.

  "You're interested in my old bird, are you?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. "What are you looking to haul?"

  "Mostly ore," I said.

  "Don't look like miners to me."

  "It's a long story."

  "Always is. No matter. She's served me well. Figure she's got plenty of life left in her," he said. "No need to stand around talking, though. Let's take a look."

  "Captain, any chance you still have your bond in place?" Nick asked.

  "That's a peculiar question for someone looking to buy a ship - not that I haven't been asked stranger things than that," he said. "Reminds me of a time…"

  As we walked, he regaled us with a story of how he'd been asked to deliver a load of glass marbles. Apparently, one of the containers had broken mid-trip, spilling marbles out into local space at a station he'd stopped at along the way.

  "I'll tell you… they wouldn't let me stop in there again for almost a decade. And here we are," he said. "She's not much to look at, but she's got it where it counts, kid. These Kestrel-1000s were built for the long haul."

  The ship in front of us was old, but in better shape than I'd expected. Nick and I spent the next twenty minutes crawling around and inspecting its single deck configuration. Two torn up seats in the cockpit, a bed, barely large enough for two people, in a separate room, and a head in the hallway that separated the two spaces. It was small but functional.

  I found Captain Norris where he'd cornered Marny, wrapping up yet another story.

  "About that bond," I asked, hoping to keep him focused.

  "Sorry, sometimes I get carried away. Suppose it comes from sailing solo for so many years," he said. "I've still got my bond. Why? What do you have in mind?"

  "Can you cover six hundred thousand credits?"

  "What's it worth to you?"

  "We need to sail six hundred meters of cargo and a hundred tonne ship. Two stops," I said.

  "How far?"

  Nick flicked him a navigation plan that had him stopping by Descartes on the way to Meerkat on Nuage Gros.

  "Run to Gros, eh? Wondered who they'd pick up for that. I've been making that run for decades," he said. "I thought you wanted to buy the ship. I'm looking to retire."

  "One-way trip, Captain Norris. We'd like Meerkat to do a refit. We're offering full price on your Kestrel and if you can cover the bond, we need to know if you'll take the run," I said.

  "Fifteen thousand," Norris offered.

  I raised my eyeb
rows. "That's pretty steep, don't you think?"

  "Son, if you wanted to negotiate, you shouldn't have shown up in a shuttle worth half a million credits. I figure you're well-funded and out of options."

  "How soon can you leave?" Nick asked.

  GRAND VILLAGE

  Grand Village of the Elders, Planet Ophir

  Elder TeePa gripped his bash stick as he looked across the ceremonial fire pit to Corget To. At twenty seasons, Corget To was in his prime and sat defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the elder.

  "The KentaPoo are weak and we should attack while their entrance stands open." Corget To reiterated his position. KentaPoo was a common, derogatory term that loosely translated to 'slugs with arms' as opposed to the FenTamel, or 'children of the stars.'

  "Corget To, you are a brave and mighty warrior, but you lack the wisdom of our histories," Elder TeePa said, affecting patience. "You avoid our fires so that you may listen to the blood rushing through your ears, singing you to battle. The FenTamel are indeed as soft as the Kenta, but they strike with the light of the Tamel of the night sky. My matron sung to my nest of how our village was brought low before I was hatched."

  "Our failure of two moons back was not that of our warriors but of our elders. We should have sent all our nests and we would have defeated the KentaPoo and the entire mountain range would know of the glory and power of Grand Village. Instead, this group of cowards…" Corget To spat on the ground, showing his disgust by wasting his water, "held us back and our village has been cut down."

  "And what if we'd been raided? Would you give our village to the Red Clan of the north?"

  "I would rather give our village to the Red Clan than to allow the KentaPoo to continue to disgrace us. We should merge with our brothers of the mountain and mount an attack of a hundred nests. Only then will we avenge our lost warriors," Corget To said.

  TeePa stood, bash stick in hand. "We will not! The FenTamel village is in our territory and it has been our sacred duty to destroy them."

  Corget To jumped to his feet, seeing the challenge in the elder's stance. "We are the disgrace. The songs sung of our village only talk of our weakness. We are the joke of the mountain and now we have failed again. We must unite all of the mountain and then our disgrace can be forgotten."

  TeePa, while old at forty seasons, once again heard the song of battle, played by the blood rushing in his ears. Elders were not to be questioned and he would make an example of this impudent tadpole. He roared as he leapt across the fire pit, bash stick raised. He would send a message to the nests to respect their elders.

  Corget To knew it was his responsibility to receive his beating. Tonight, however, he would not. Thirty nests, fully one hundred fifty of the strongest warriors of the Grand Village, had been sent to their glorious death and now, while the KentaPoo's village stood open, they sat back, waiting for them to rebuild. At least the elders should send the remaining forty nests. It was cowardice.

  "No!" Corget To roared, bringing his bash stick up into TeePa's armored chest.

  He struck with such strength that the much older Ophie was thrown to the side. With blood song in his ears, Corget To swept his bash stick into his elder's shins, striking at the knees as he tried to stand.

  Members of the Elder circle stood back, waiting. It had been long since a whelp challenged an Elder at the fire, but TeePa had struck first. They were honor bound to allow the fight to discover its own end.

  Corget To jumped over TeePa, swinging again. Instead of finding the softness of the fallen Ophie's groin, Corget To instead felt the crushing impact of TeePa's stick beneath his jaw. He stumbled back, trying to keep his feet beneath him. A second blow to his groin, followed by a jab to his throat, toppled the large warrior.

  "Corget To, do you yield?" TeePa asked as he stood on the younger Ophie's club.

  Corget To struggled, trying to free his stick. Seeing that this was not possible, he brought his leg up in an attempt to kick at the older Ophie.

  "Always the same. We learn too slowly and then we die." TeePa raised his club. It was a shame to end such a powerful warrior, but discipline in the village was critical, especially now that their numbers were reduced.

  "TeePa, would you hold a moment for a proposition?" Sevn Tar, his once mate, and matron of Corget To's nest asked, placing her hand on his arm.

  "Yes, honored Matron, I will hold," he responded.

  "I recognize your prowess in battle and right to finish Corget To. What if there was another way to defeat the FenTamel? What if we were to require tribute to Grand Village for the honor of crossing our lands and fighting them?"

  "What does this have to do with Corget To?"

  "You are about to join him with the mountain, am I right?"

  "I am."

  "What would you do if one of the Red Clan came to our village with a proposal to allow us to hunt predators in their territory? Would you listen or would you join him with the mountain?"

  "I am not sure. It would depend if they had especially fierce predators," he said. As he spoke, understanding showed on his face. "Are you proposing that we send Corget To as an emissary to the Red Clan? Doesn't that make us look weak to our brothers of the mountain?"

  "Perhaps at the first. But how many nests would Red Clan send to attack the FenTamel?"

  "I don't know. If they came, I suppose they would send their strongest nests, maybe two or three of them at first."

  "Would they be successful against the FenTamel, mighty TeePa?"

  "Certainly not. They would not be successful with fifteen nests, so much we have proven over so many seasons."

  "Would their songs about Grand Village change?"

  TeePa paused to think. Matron Sevn Tar had always shown wisdom and had once been a mighty warrior. He knew the blood song had sung to her for many years. Maybe she was right, perhaps it was time for a change, if only a small one.

  DRUMS OF WAR

  Yishuv Settlement, Planet Ophir

  "Amon, it's time to break open the furnace and see what we've got at the bottom. Just stack the bricks to the side. You'll need to break the mortar, but try not to ruin the bricks. If we didn't smelt the iron right, we'll have to make another run," Merrie instructed.

  Nurit and Merik had followed the pair back to the abandoned tannery, their curiosity piqued.

  "What do you mean, Merrie?" Merik asked.

  "If I failed to keep the temperature in the right range, we'll just have a nice wrought iron smelt," Merrie said. "I'll know based on the final carbon content of what's called the bloom."

  Nurit joined Amon in removing the bricks from the tall furnace. Even with gloves, the heat at the bottom became too much for them to continue with careful removal and they resorted to toppling the bricks with iron poles.

  "Use your tongs. You should be able to lift the bloom out," Merrie said handing the blacksmith's tongs to her friend.

  "Bloom?"

  "The steel that's collected at the bottom. Supposedly looks like a flower," she explained.

  Amon stepped forward and dug into the glowing pile with his meter long tongs. Even with his great strength, he was unable to free it. "I'll have to pound it out of there," he said.

  "Just be careful of my oxygen inlet and slag release. I'd like to reuse them," Merrie said, backing away.

  After a few minutes of hammering, Amon successfully freed the remaining bricks from the iron slag. He dug into the pile with his long tongs and grabbed hold. "It's heavy, but I've got it," he said. Nurit slid in beside him and he accepted her help. Together they worked the pile back and forth, finally rolling an orange, spongy looking ball from its prison.

  "How much does it weigh?" Merik asked, excitedly.

  "It's loaded with slag that we need to break off," Merrie said. "You can beat on it, Amon, whatever falls off is slag."

  Amon, wearing heavy leather gloves and apron, pulled a transparent face shield over his face and swung away at the big pile. Twenty minutes later, he'd chipped away the loose material
from the otherwise pocked and porous looking steel bloom.

  Merrie leaned down with a small instrument in her gloved hand, touched it to the black mass, and pulled back.

  "Careful, Merrie. That's still very hot," Nurit said.

  Merrie looked up to Amon, oblivious to Nurit's warning. "We did it!" She jumped up and wrapped her arms around the confused blacksmith, unable to contain her excitement. She spun him around and let go, looking back to the two masters expectantly.

  "What did you do, Merrie?" Merik asked. His face reflected the young woman's excitement.

  "High carbon steel on our first try. I'd just hoped for mild steel – or, you know, any type of steel at all - but we're at two point three percent carbon. We can do better, but we could have done a lot worse," she said.

  "You're saying that's all steel?" Nurit asked. "There has to be thirty kilograms of it."

  "It's not all steel. You'll lose another ten or fifteen percent as you work it. But, it's mostly steel." Merrie grabbed Amon's hands and pulling him around in an impromptu dance.

  "What will you do with it all?" Nurit asked.

  "I'd like a couple of kilograms for the maker-machine. We've been recycling all of the founder's steel and could use more. There are patterns we haven't been able to make for years," Merik said.

  "Master, please don't yell at me, but I brought along the engineering pad. I can show you what Amon and I have been planning to make," she said.

  "Merrie…" Merik shook his head disapprovingly, then rolled his eyes. "Very well, show us."

  Merrie pulled a wrapped bundle from a wooden case and turned on the computerized pad. She showed a video of an ancient swordsmith working raw steel into a highly polished, slightly curved blade. "Amon already makes such beautiful daggers and there are only a few steps that he has to learn to make this work."

  "We've tried the shorter iron swords against the Ophie. They don't penetrate the natural armor," Nurit said. "Why do you think this will be different?"

  "These blades are thinner and sharper than anything we can achieve using iron. You are right, though, there are other options for blades. We believe this design will give better results in penetrating the Ophie's natural armor," Amon said.