Saturn Run (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1)

Home > Other > Saturn Run (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1) > Page 18
Saturn Run (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1) Page 18

by Stanley Salmons


  “Sure. Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “Okay. Most people think of pirates as lying in wait for passing ships. That’s the classical picture, isn’t it? They board the ship, appropriate the cargo and any valuables, kill everyone, steal or destroy the ship. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Suppose it’s not like that. Suppose there’s something out there that they don’t want discovered and reported. So when someone happens to stray too close and says, ‘Hello, what’s this?’ they act before he has a chance to tell anyone else. They probably still board the ship and steal the cargo but that’s not the primary motivation.”

  “What are you getting at? What could be out there?”

  Dan indicated a chair to Hal and took one across the table from him. He leaned forward.

  “Look, Hal. I’ve given this a lot of thought. You know my background. I spent quite a while in jail during the Rostov trial and I used it to try to make sense of the operation I was involved in. It was clever, Hal. That operation was divided into cells, and no cell led on to another cell. Customs made a big thing out of the drug haul and picking up Rostov but they only got part of the organization. No one ever asked where the drugs were made. Where were they made, Hal? Earth’s a crowded place. At one time you could have hidden a factory like that from prying eyes, but no more.” He held up a finger. “That’s Point One.”

  He held up a second finger.

  “Point Two. Soon after I left the Academy I did a bit of freelance flying for various outfits, some of it on shuttles. I did one trip out to PharmSat. Heard of it?”

  “It’s a pharmaceutical factory – isn’t it? – somewhere in Earth orbit?”

  “It is. Very heavy security. While I was waiting around to do the return leg of the trip I had an interesting conversation with a guy up there. The obvious question, which I put to him, was: does it really pay them to make drugs in Earth orbit? It turns out it does. There’s an important class of chiral compounds they manufacture up there. It includes a whole slew of powerful painkillers and psychotropic drugs which are licensed all over the world, so there’s a big market for them. They’re hard to synthesize in full gravity – what happens is you get a mixture of an active and an inactive form and it takes a lot of processing to separate them. In microgravity conditions you can synthesize the active form pretty much uncontaminated, so actually it does make economic sense to do it in orbit. One of these compounds we’re talking about is – are you ready for this? – the notorious drug of addiction Dramatoin. They make it in small quantities under licence for medical use. Hence the heavy security.”

  “Dramatoin. That’s Blaze, right? I didn’t know they actually made it there. Christ! Why the hell would they want to do that?”

  “To supply the hospitals. You can’t treat Dramatoin addiction, the effects are progressive and irreversible. Eventually the patient dies. If you try to withdraw the drug he dies a lot sooner and in a whole lot of pain. So to keep the patients alive the medics have to give them small maintenance doses of Dramatoin.”

  “I see. Sorry, I interrupted you, what was your point?”

  “Well, what all this suggests to me is that if someone was looking to manufacture Dramatoin illegally the chances are they’d want to do it under microgravity conditions.”

  “But you couldn’t possibly set up a drug factory like that in orbit around the Earth. It would be spotted instantly!”

  “Exactly. But suppose you set it up just beyond Mars orbit? It would be hard to spot if you gave it an antireflective coating. Very little goes out that way, and the surveillance from Mars is nothing like as thorough as that from Earth. You transport the drug to a depot on Mars and store it there. When you’re ready you take it in freight skimmers to a private cargo hangar, load it into some cargo shuttles and transfer it to a freightliner waiting in orbit. All you need then is a naïve young idiot – someone like me – who comes along and flies the freighter on a conventional trajectory amongst all the other traffic to a dock orbiting the Earth. You unload quickly and someone else flies the freighter back before anyone has noticed.” Dan smiled grimly and added: “Unless Customs has been tipped off, of course, in which case you get arrested the moment you arrive.”

  “Did you say anything about this to the police or Customs?”

  Dan shook his head. “No way. I told them what I knew about the ground operations on Mars and I expect they hit those. I don’t suppose they found anything – Rostov’s people would have cleaned them out the moment they knew what happened in Earth orbit. What I didn’t tell them was where the drug might be made. There were good reasons for that. First, I didn’t want to give the impression I knew more about the organization than I did; I was in the shit deep enough as it was. Second, there wasn’t a chance of it holding up in court. It is, after all, pure conjecture.”

  “That’s precisely the problem, Dan – it is all conjecture.”

  “But Hal, I’ll be taking the freighter past Mars orbit. If I’m right about this and if I should, by bad luck, pass too close to that facility, or if they’ve had the slightest whiff of what I’ve got on board, I’m dead and you’ve lost your E-Class.”

  Hal studied his hands. After a while he looked up.

  “Dan, let’s be practical. You don’t have any hard facts and without them it’s hopeless. You’re up against the Convention and you’re up against a clear Board decision. There are already plenty of risks attached to this journey – you knew that before you signed up for it. This is just one more risk you’re going to have to take. I hear what you’re saying but I’m sorry, neither you nor I are going to be able to do diddley-squat about it.”

  They both got up. Dan gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

  “Okay, Hal. Thanks for listening, anyway.”

  *

  One thing Dan could do without recourse to the Board was to ensure that he had access to every inch of the freighter. That was his legal right as a pilot. He’d waived it once – for Rostov – with disastrous consequences and he had no intention of making the same mistake twice. He expected access not only to the physical accommodation on the craft – the living modules and cargo holds – but also to every corner of the computer’s operating system, its libraries, databases and memory banks, and full privileges to read – and over-ride if necessary – any resident routine. The only way to test this was to try it out on the replica system they’d assembled during mission preparation. It was tedious, time-consuming work and it took a real effort of will to keep his mind from wandering to Neraya.

  They returned to her apartment every night, and every night they made love as if they were cramming their entire lives into the time before his departure. One evening he happened to mention that Stott was on the Board of Directors of SpaceFreight.

  Her face fell.

  “Don’t worry, darling. Look, if he’d wanted to block my appointment he could have done. I don’t know that he’s much concerned with the mission except in a general way. The details are being handled way below Board level.”

  “Don’t underestimate him, Danny. Don’t underestimate him or his capacity for evil. He hates you and he’ll do his best to destroy you.”

  *

  Dan picked up his buzzing communicator in the Mission Overview Office.

  “Jeez, Danny boy, yer a difficult hombre to get ahold of! I had to ask all over for yer code.”

  “Hey, Ralph. What a nice surprise! You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m doin’ fine. I know yer gettin’ ready t’leave soon, and I wanted t’wish ya luck. Also I got some news for ya.”

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  “Rostov got whacked. In prison. Thought ya’d like to know.”

  “He got whacked? How did it happen?”

  “Offishully, they say it was a fight. But the word I have from Ferris – you remember Ferris, drives for Virgilius? – is, they set it up. His lieutenants on the outside got tired of baby-sittin’ the organization f’r him. Decided they could do better
if he was outta the way for good. Means yer off the hook, Danny. They won’t be after ya now, ’cos in a way ya done ’em a good turn.”

  “Ralph, that’s great news. Thanks very much for letting me know. Look, I’ll be away for a while but we’ll see each other when I get back.”

  “Yeah, maybe. That’d be nice. Take care of yerself, Danny.”

  He clicked off the communicator and stood looking at it for a moment. It was good of Ralph to contact him. The item might have made it to the news media but he would have missed it anyway; he was far too busy with preparations to keep up with what was going on outside this office. He had no regrets about Rostov, the man got everything he deserved. And now there was nothing to run away from any more and everything to come back to. All he had to do was return from Saturn in one piece.

  *

  The last few days in the Mission Overview Office went quickly. The planning and the simulations had finally been completed. The freight was assembled and warehoused securely at the Shuttle Terminal. Now Dan had to leave for Orbital Dock 3. Once he was there they’d commence loading and system checking immediately. That would take several more weeks. There would be a further period to complete his quarantine, some final medical checks, and then he would depart, heading for the outer reaches of the solar system.

  He embraced Neraya one last time. Her eyes were bright and he knew she was fighting to suppress the tears. She gave him a sad little smile and said just three words:

  “Come back, Danny.”

  36

  “Do you have a moment, Zena?”

  Zena turned to see Maida standing in the doorway of her private room. She turned and went back down the corridor with its thick red carpet and gold-decorated walls and ceiling. Maida closed the door behind them and they sat down together on a small corner sofa. Zena crossed her long, shapely legs. She was fond of Maida. Maida knew what it was all about – she’d been there herself and she looked after her girls. She must have been very beautiful when she was young. She was overweight now but she still had a handsome face and for an older woman her complexion was remarkable.

  “Elke’s been here.”

  Zena uncrossed her legs and her whole body tensed as if she were trying to shrink into a smaller space. She blinked. “Why?”

  “Just the usual spot checks, making sure I’m not fiddling the books.”

  Zena relaxed a little. “Poisonous bitch.”

  “Now, now, dear, you mustn’t talk that way about your employers.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help it.” She shuddered. “That woman… remember, I was here when she went to work on Sara and Jeannie, poor kids. What’s her problem this time?”

  “No problem. It’s just that she noticed the repeat bookings for one of your clients, the one we enter as Beethoven. It’s every Thursday, isn’t it?”

  “Like clockwork.”

  “She wants to know more about him. A client like that’s got to have money. Might have influence too. Could be useful to the organization.”

  “I can tell you a bit. His first name’s Karl. I know that because he likes me to use it when I’m doing stuff to him. He’s quite young, probably under thirty. Thinks a lot of himself. Some sort of manager, I think.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “His clothes, for one. The style’s pretty ordinary but they’re well cut and it’s good quality cloth.”

  “Clothes can tell you a lot,” Maida agreed.

  “And hands. You can tell a lot from hands. His are white and soft and hairless, like a woman’s. He never uses those for any serious work. And the nails look like they’re manicured professionally. And he likes me to—"

  “I don’t want to know what he likes you to do, dear – that’s your department. Find out some more about him, could you, honey? You’ve got the sound kit, haven’t you?”

  “Of course, it’s built into the case. I’ll switch it on some time and see if we can make him spill something. Shouldn’t be hard. He loves to impress.”

  “Do that, Zena, dear. Not some time – do it this Thursday, would you? We wouldn’t want to try Elke’s patience, now, would we?”

  *

  “Karl, it’s so good to see you! What’s the matter, darling? You look tense. Come on now, take your things off, make yourself comfortable. That’s it. Zena knows what’s good for you. Come and sit over here, let’s just relax you a little bit.”

  A brief silence was followed by a grunt and a contented sigh.

  Three people were listening to the transmissions in a small room in the basement. A bearded and carelessly dressed man was sitting at a radio communications receiver, wearing headphones and making small adjustments to a panel of slider switches in front of him. Maida was standing behind a young girl who was seated at a computer console, and both of them were watching the bearded man as if the voices were emanating from him rather than a loudspeaker somewhere in the equipment.

  “You’re all knotted up, darling. Did you come directly from work?”

  “Yes, I did actually.”

  “Was it a bad journey? Town can be a nightmare at this time of day.”

  “Ooh, that’s lovely. It wasn’t too bad, I suppose. Fifteen minutes. I have a Pentach, you know. It’s pretty fast.”

  Maida hissed to the girl at the console: “His skimmer’s a Pentach. Fifteen minutes in a fast skimmer, and most of that would be in town. A six-mile radius, Tess, it can’t be further than that. Work on a six-mile sector coming from town.”

  The girl busied herself at the console while the others listened.

  There was a pause and more sighs.

  “Relax, relax. Poor baby. You must have such a lot of responsibility. Making important decisions all week. People depending on you. No wonder you come to Zena for a little relaxation.”

  “You understand, Zena. A lot of people don’t.”

  “Well of course I understand, baby. You must be very clever to have such an important job but it tires you out, carrying all that on your shoulders. You’re so young – to be a manager, I mean.”

  “Director, actually. Yes, it is a lot of responsibility.”

  “That’s it. Tess, get the listings of all the Boards of the companies in that sector.”

  “Maida, there must be fifty or a hundred companies in that area.”

  Maida thought for a moment. “Throw out the branches. We’re only interested in headquarters buildings. And we’ll start with the biggest. Put them in rank order of capitalization and then work from the top down. We’re looking for a Director, first name Karl.”

  The image on the console was redrawn several times, then lists of names started to go up.

  “Bingo!”

  “What have you got?”

  “Board of General Avionics. Karl Rutten.”

  “Get his biog.”

  “Age fifty-two, previous directorships—”

  “Forget it. Too old. This one’s no more than about thirty. Keep looking.”

  The noises coming from the loudspeaker were now anything but conversation.

  “Benny, you can turn that racket off now.”

  “Sweet Jesus, what is she doing to that guy?”

  “None of your business. Just turn it off.”

  “Okay, Maida, if you say so.”

  “Here’s something, Maida. SpaceFreight Incorporated. There’s someone called Karl Stott on the Board.”

  “Get his biog.”

  “Hang on a minute. This site’s got thumbnails of all the members of the Board. Look, is that him?”

  “Let me see. That’s him! Get his biog’.”

  “All right I’m doing it, give me a chance! Here you are. Age twenty-four. Appointed to the Board 2151. No other directorships, past or present. Education: Renshaw College, Space Fleet Academy… hey, this is interesting.”

  “What?”

  “His father is Fleet-Admiral Jurgen Stott.”

  A slow smile crossed Maida’s broad, smooth face. “Print it out, Tess. I think Elke’s going to
be rather pleased with this.”

  37

  Maida sat across the desk from Elke Klitgaard. The woman still made her feel intensely uncomfortable, but for once Maida felt that she was the one in charge. She knew that Elke sensed it, from the unaccustomed stiffness in her demeanour.

  “I asked you to come over, Elke, because he’s here now, and I think you should have a look at this.”

  She handed over the print-out of Karl Stott’s biography and Elke snatched it from her. She started by scanning the pages quickly, then bent forward and began to read more carefully from the beginning. Maida watched her with quiet satisfaction. At the same time she was appraising Elke’s designer clothes. The woman was wearing a dark grey waistcoat and trousers, and in a nod to the current fashion for a military look her blouse was stiff, plain and high at the collar, like a tunic. Maida, whose humble beginnings on the streets of Los Angeles had given her an extraordinary insight into these things, could estimate quite accurately what that designer outfit cost. It would take a year for the average person to earn as much as that.

  Elke looked up and bestowed one of her thin smiles on Maida. It was, Maida decided, rather like being dosed with gamma rays.

  “Well done, Maida, well done. I think this gentleman could be quite useful to us. Is Zena wearing a micro-earpiece?”

  “Yes, all the girls do in case we get raided.”

  “Good. Get a message to her. Tell her to take her time when she’s finished with him. Let him settle down a bit. I’ll use this office; have her bring him to me here.” Her expression hardened. “I’ll see him alone.”

  “Of course.”

  *

  Zena did little more than open the door to Maida’s office for Karl Stott and she closed it quickly behind him.

  Elke rose and welcomed Stott warmly. “Hello. My name is Elke Klitgaard. My company runs this establishment – and others. It’s very good of you to give me a moment of your time. Do sit down – Mr Stott.”

  As she said the last, Stott was half-way into the chair. He froze and straightened up.

  “You know my name?”

 

‹ Prev