Chapter Two
It had taken humanity over a hundred years to spread from the first stations in Earth orbit to Mars. First there had been larger and larger stations in Earth orbit that provided the foundation for the eventual colonization of the moon, which itself was a stepping-stone to Mars. The colony on the red planet had been around for only thirty years, long enough to establish five domed cities and dozens of smaller settlements, housing nearly twice the number of humans than the lunar colony. It should be no surprise, then, that the state of the Mars colony was always bordering on full-fledged chaos.
Like the customs station above the planet, virtually anyone and anything was for sale on Mars. Since the colony relied on Earth and the moon for a full ninety-five percent of its goods, the cost of anything from table salt to fine wine was astronomical compared to the prices on Earth. That kind of inflation meant that everyone struggled to survive, and the way the police survived was through bribery.
Bribery was as common on Mars as changing one’s clothes, sometimes even more so. It was something any commercial merchant was accustomed to. So I never thought twice about it as I slipped a police officer a hundred unidollars on my way through the New Freeland spaceport. It was what could be considered an insurance payment, since the bribe would insure the officer and his partner didn’t take me into custody for phony charges. It was how business was done on Mars, and that was why it was no surprise that Jorgen Fischer was as successful as he was.
Fischer, as his name implied, was one member of the family that had founded Fischer Galactic Transport. Unfortunately, he’d gotten a bad break at birth, being the youngest of the family, which meant that while his five older brothers and sisters ran the company from plush Earth locales like
Fischer ruled the entire complex like a petty tyrant, his bad temper and spontaneous firings were legendary. For that reason, plus his small stature, many called him “Napoleon” behind his back. I had only met Jorgen Fischer a handful of times, usually from a distance at staff meetings or conferences, but I knew that if Napoleon wanted to see me personally, it could only be bad.
It took almost a half hour until Fischer’s secretary waved me into his decadent office. From the thick carpets to the original paintings on the wall, everything in Fischer’s office was enormously expensive, and paid for either by his family’s money, his company expense account, or one of his side businesses. I sat down in an antique leather chair, waiting while Fischer made a big deal about reviewing some budgets before his beady black eyes looked up at me.
“Well, Gallowes, I see you made it here in one piece,” Fischer began, his voice as cool and precise as a glacier, part of the image he tried to cultivate to intimidate employees. Apparently he had reigned in his temper since the call to me on the customs station.
“Yes, sir, but I’m afraid there’s a problem…” I began, but Fischer cut me off.
“There will be time to discuss other affairs later, for now, though, let’s concentrate on the business at hand. Specifically, there is a very important mission, and you are the only man for the job.”
“I hate to argue, sir, but we have dozens of ships…”
“You are the best captain around these parts, Gallowes, you are someone I can trust to get the job done and to be…discreet.”
I could tell from the last word that whatever this mission was, it was not something that Fischer was going to let customs officials in on. “What’s the nature of this mission?”
Fischer held up a hand, punching the intercom to his secretary. “Show Ms. Turgeon in.” The door opened seconds later, I swiveled my head to see a very stunning, very young woman enter the room. Ms. Turgeon had the pale skin of anyone who spent a lot of time in space, but with her sea-green eyes and flowing red hair, it only made her seem like a delicate flower, except for the peach splotch on her left cheek that was obviously a piece of tempskin used to cover a scar or burn. Her body was tall and thin, but she moved with the grace of someone who knows that she is beautiful. “Brent Gallowes, this is Ms. Francesca Turgeon, junior flight engineer of the
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, a little shocked at the way I was coming on to this woman. Then again, it had been over five years since I had been with anyone, so perhaps it was not all that surprising after all.
“And you, Mr. Gallowes,” her cool tone of voice shattering my upstart hopes for any romantic action. Neither she nor Fischer seemed to notice the grimace on my face. Turgeon took a seat on the edge of Fischer’s desk while he continued.
“Ms. Turgeon arrived only two days ago in a lifeboat from a hauler called the
The Jovian Research Station had been started only five years ago by an eccentric trillionaire who wanted to unlock the secrets of the universe, so he or she funded numerous astronomical projects, including the research station in a loose orbit between Jupiter and Saturn. The station had the best equipment in the system to study Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and their peculiar phenomena. A cargo run to the station was very sweet for the hauler crew, the station’s benefactor was known to be a big tipper. “There are dozens of mining settlements in the asteroid belt, why didn’t you call them and have them help?” I asked Turgeon and saw her young face crinkle in frustration, as though she were searching for the right words.
“It’s a delicate matter,” Fischer bailed her out. “If you accept this mission, you and your crew will be sworn to absolute secrecy, no one is to know of this.”
I raised an eyebrow, this was starting to get suspicious. “Actually, sir, my crew is what I wanted to talk to you about. My flight engineer was killed last night on the customs station.”
Fischer’s stern, rat-like mask crumpled for an instant at the news, but Turgeon looked unfazed, her eyes coolly looking back at me. “How did that happen?” Fischer asked.
“I don’t know, the local police are looking into it.”
Fischer shook his head, then shrugged. “No matter, you’ll just have to find a replacement, and Ms. Turgeon can always lend you a hand on the way to the
“Other than missing a crewman, there’s also the problem that I’ve never run a salvage operation, and my ship really isn’t equipped for it.”
“Gallowes, you don’t have to rebuild the
“OK, let’s say I decide to accept, what’s in it for me?”
“One hundred thousand unidollars,” Fischer answered, almost a little too quickly.
I could see from the gleam in his eye that whatever this cargo was, it was very valuable to Turgeon and her associates. Which probably meant that Fischer was going to get much more than a hundred thousand unibucks. Time to test the waters a little. “One million, and…” I paused dramatically, “I want sole ownership of the Poseyville.”
“Are you crazy? A million?” Fischer gasped, his tyrannical mask falling away to reveal the spoiled child that he was.
“Take it or I walk,” I replied as firmly as I could. I knew I was riding a thin line here. If I was wrong, then Fischer would have me fired and go with someone else. On the other hand, if I was right, then I and my crew would not only be much richer, but I would be free of Napoleon forever.
Fischer seemed to be torn for a moment between his greed and business sense. Finally, he sighed and said, “All right, Gallowes, you drive a hard bargain, I see now why you’re the best. A million and I’ll give you the Poseyville.” Fischer smiled, an expression that seemed alien to his face. “I assume that you’ll be changing the name?”
“You let me worry about that. So when does this party start?”
“I can have the welding drones and hull patches loaded on your ship in 48 hours.”
“Fine, I’ll let my pilot know, he and Ms. Turgeon can supervise the loading operation while I find us a new flight engineer.”
“Excellent,” Fischer said and I stood to leave. As I neared the door, Fischer called out, “Gallowes, remember that no one is to know of this. If I find out you told a soul, I’ll make sure you never deliver a cargo anywhere ever again.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I muttered on my way through the door.
There were official resources for a hauler captain looking for replacement crewmembers. There were employment agencies, trade guilds, unions, any of which could help me find an unemployed flight engineer in need of work. However, like most things, we hauler crews had our own unofficial hiring network, places where captains could recruit the very best, usually away from other captains. That had probably caused more deaths than accidents during a cargo run, but fortunately I knew how to be discreet.
The Red Lander was a bar nestled among several warehouses at the very edge of the New Freeland biodome, and was frequented by a lot of hauler crews. I walked through the door into the dark bar, the smell of various liquors, drugs, and body odors mingling into a smell that made part of me want to vomit, and made the other part feel at home. There was an empty stool at the scarred, pseudowood bar, I sat down and waited for a bartender to appear. An old, fat man sidled over to me, his eyes looking at me expectantly. I reached over to the bar’s wallet, transferring two hundred unibucks to the bartender’s account. “I’ll have a scotch…and some information.” The bartender checked the wallet and confirmed my identity before he poured my scotch and leaned towards me conspiratorially.
“What exactly are you looking for?” The barkeep asked.
“A flight engineer.”
The bartender shook his head, his heavy jowls dancing. “Can’t help you there.”
“Come on, Andy, I know you’ve got some information.”
Andy the barkeep seemed torn for a second, finally letting out a heavy sigh. “OK, I’ve got a name, one I’ve been saving for someone special. Take a look at this.” Andy, I don’t think I ever asked for his last name, produced a comcard from his apron. I activated the device and looked incredulously at the file of one James Sirvenski. After a few minutes of reading, I handed the comcard back to Andy and added an extra five hundred unibucks to his wallet. He nodded graciously, leaving me to drain my scotch before I dashed out the door.
Walking down the street, I could hardly believe my luck. Sirvenski was only nineteen, a dropout of the Mars Engineering Institute, but he had taken the flight engineer certification test a month ago. None of that interested me, what I found incredible were his test scores at MEI and on his certification test. The kid was absolutely brilliant, he had aced every test he had taken at MEI and had also passed the certification test without getting a single answer wrong. That was, without cheating, next to impossible, but somehow this kid had done it. The only thing more surprising was that he was still available.
It took two hours to flag down a taxi that could take me from New Freeland to the capital city of
I eventually found the rotting shell of a flophouse where Sirvenski’s apartment was located. There were no signs to guide me, so I had to walk up and down the creaking stairs looking for the apartment leased to him. I finally located his apartment and knocked on the door, grimacing as a rat ran boldly over my boots to scurry into the mounds of garbage left in the hallways. As far as humans advanced, there were always places that were left untouched by progress.
The wooden door opened a half-inch, allowing me to just make out a gray eye. “Who are you?” A male voice demanded harshly.
“My name is Brent Gallowes, I’m looking for James Sirvenski…” I never finished the sentence, the door was flung open and a man slammed me against the wall, holding a knife to my throat. I felt the cold steel against my neck, the horrifying images of my past assailing me.
“Look, I’ve told your boss already that I’m not going to help him crack any security codes. So you can go back and tell him to find another patsy already!”
“No, you don’t understand,” I croaked, trying not to swallow too hard with the knife against my throat. “I’m not a criminal, I’m a hauler captain, I came to ask James if he wanted to be my flight engineer.”
I stared into the man’s gray eyes for a long moment, then I felt the knife pull away from my flesh. “James, who’s out there?” I heard an elderly voice ask.
“No one, Mother, I’ll just be a minute,” the man, who I now knew was Sirvenski, replied. He slammed the door shut, sheathing his weapon. “I’m sorry, but we don’t get a lot of visitors around here.”
I tenderly rubbed my throat, nodding, “I understand. Can we discuss this inside?”
Sirvenski shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, but I really can’t accept any job offers.”
“You took the certification test, I assumed…”
“My mother’s really sick, she can’t take care of herself, and my sisters are too young to run things. I have to be here for them, I’m sorry you wasted your time.”
Sirvenski turned to go, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait, I can get you out of here, all of you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Sirvenski snorted. “I’ve had a dozen captains come around here all saying the same thing. ‘Sign with me and in ten years you’ll be a rich man.’ I’m sorry, but my family needs me, I can’t go off into space and leave them here.”
“If I might be so impolite as to pry, but why did you take the test if you don’t want a job?”
Sirvenski’s cheeks flushed. “I want a job, I really do, but I’ve got responsibilities.”
“OK, James, let me lay my cards on the table. I need a flight engineer in the next 24 hours, and you’re my best chance. This mission is really important, and I’ll need someone of your talent to help me, so name your price.”
“Look, Mr. Gallowes, I’m not for sale, really.”
I nodded, taking out my wallet. “How about ten thousand up front, another two hundred thousand when the mission is done.” I could see Sirvenski’s jaw drop, it was obvious that he hadn’t been expecting such a large sum to be offered to him. “What do you say?”
For a moment I thought he’d still refuse, but finally he nodded. “I accept. How long is this mission going to be?”
“Maybe two weeks,” I shrugged.
“I’ll need to find a place for my family to stay, you know any good hotels?”
“No, but we’ll find something.” I clapped Sirvenski on the back and we went inside so that he could break the good news. His three sisters, the oldest appeared to be fourteen or fifteen, jumped around gleefully while his mother lay on an old sofa, smiling through rotted teeth. I guessed that his mother was about my age, but she looked much older, whether from stress or whatever disease plagued her I wasn’t sure, but she seemed almost bedridden. Sirvenski knelt down next to her, taking her hand.
“Don’t worry, Mother, we’re going to take you somewhere to get better.”
“No, James, no, you can’t afford it…”
“Actually, ma’am, your son is now an employee of Fischer Galactic Transport and is fully insured,” I broke in. It was technically a lie, since he wasn’t yet enrolled in Fischer’s insurance plan, but I knew that Jorgen Fischer would give Mrs. Sirvenski a kidney right now if that’s what it took to get me on my way.
The Sirvenski family and I spent the rest of the night packing up their belongings, and by the next morning they had taken care of things with their slum lord. Sirvenski took his mother to the best hospital in the city for treatment while I found a hotel room for his sisters. He was leery about leaving his sisters alone, but after a short call to Jorgen Fischer a pair of bodyguards arrived, both gay men who would have no interest in taking advantage of the girls. After saying his farewells, Sirvenski and I boarded a shuttle bound for the Poseyville.
“Poseyville?” Sirvenski choked when he heard the name.
“Don’t worry, after this mission, I’m going to change the name.”
“So what is this
about? Where are we going?”
“I can’t tell you right now,” I replied a little more harshly then I intended.
“Oh.”
“Once we’re under way, then I’ll tell you. So, have you ever been on a hauler before?”
“A few times, my father was a hauler pilot.”
“Really? Which ship?”
“I don’t know, he died in a bar fight when I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sirvenski’s eyes looked haunted for a moment, but he said nothing more.
“I’ve seen your test scores, they’re very good.”
“I know, I wish I could have finished at MEI, but I needed to make money for my family.”
“I understand how that is, I used to have a family myself,” I’m sure that now it was my eyes looking haunted to him. We were both silent the rest of the trip, thinking of our own tragedies.
It didn’t take long to show Sirvenski around the Poseyville. Other than the cargo hold there were the crew quarters, the galley, a few maintenance rooms, and the bridge. I introduced Sirvenski to Palmer and Turgeon, and almost to my relief, I watched Sirvenski also embarrass himself to our pretty young passenger. His face still blushing from being shot down by Turgeon, Sirvenski took his controls and began a diagnostic of the Poseyville’s systems. I took my station, reading over the cargo manifest for this mission.
True to his word, Fischer had sent four welding robots and almost enough spare hull plating to build a new hauler. It was pretty clear that Fischer wanted this mission to succeed, which only made me speculate at how much he stood to gain from this. I also began to wonder exactly what was so damned important that it could warrant so much profit, yet had to be kept absolutely secret. A lot of thoughts danced through my head, but there was really only one way to find out.
My chance to finally ask Turgeon came ten hours later when the Poseyville was finally clear of Mars and its moons. It would be another three hours until the hauler reached the asteroid belt, where I would have to get permission from the various mining companies in the belt to pass through their space. That was going to take a good deal of negotiating, and bribery. In the meantime, with some time to kill I decided to find out what I was getting my ship into.
Turgeon was squatting on a spare seat, uncomfortably staring out the vidscreen when I said, “All right, James, I promised that I would let you know about our mission later, it is now later. I think, though, that our good friend Ms. Turgeon could provide a better description than I.”
Turgeon glared in my direction, then nodded. “About three weeks ago, my ship, the
“The problem was that with only an emergency force field patching the hole in the hull, there was no way that we could maneuver through the asteroids or make it past Jupiter without the hull buckling. We were essentially dead in space. So the captain decided to send me in a lifeboat to get help. I got to Mars about three days ago and met with Mr. Fischer to get help repairing the ship and salvaging the cargo.”
“So what exactly is it that hit you?” Sirvenski asked, fascinated by Turgeon’s story. I suspected, however, that he’d be fascinated by anything she said from the look on his face.
Turgeon shook her thick red mane, “I don’t know, I didn’t get a chance to see before I left.”
I could see from the nervous look in her eyes that she was lying. She knew more than she was letting on, but there was no sense in arguing about it now. I would make sure to get a good look at the damage when we arrived at the
“That’s right,” she replied, turning away from me to effectively end the conversation. I thought about trying to get a little more out of her but decided against it. Instead, I went over to Sirvenski and discussed the ship’s control systems, getting any suggestions he had on how to improve them. As advertised, Sirvenski was a bright kid, it took him only an hour before he knew far more about the Poseyville’s systems than I ever would.
After talking with Sirvenski, I sat down at my station and opened a book, though I was really not interested in its contents. I watched Turgeon from over the book’s display surface , trying to pick up on any more pieces of the puzzle from her facial expressions or body language, but she was as cold and empty as space itself.
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