Saturn Run (The Planetary Trilogy Book 1)

by Stanley Salmons

  “The man’s not been coming up with the goods. He’s had a whole month now, and all he’s doing is giving me mini-lectures about business opportunities off-Earth. And I have to sit there and listen to this crap! Pompous ass! If I wanted that sort of information I’d enrol at business school. And he was getting two girls for the price of one! He must have thought he could play me for a fool!”

  I can see where that wouldn’t go down too well with you, Elke.

  Maida made very sure that her amusement never reached her face. “Zena said he was full of himself,” she said.

  “Well I laid it out for him. Either he gives me useful intelligence – stuff we couldn’t get from the media or off the WorldNet – or the arrangement stops.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “He was a bit taken aback. He’s so thick it hadn’t dawned on him that I didn’t just want his pearls of wisdom. He certainly doesn’t want to abandon the arrangement, though.”

  “Will he come up with anything useful?”

  “Yes, I think so. He keeps hinting at something big, in that self-important way of his. I think I’ll prise it out of him but I need a bit more leverage. Tell me, does Zena use?”

  “No, but Papillon does. She snorts a bit.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll supply the stuff for her as well, as long as she gets him to take it.”

  Maida’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to spike it with something harder?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I don’t want my girl taking it.”

  Elke stared at Maida. It had suddenly gone very quiet. She picked up her handbag, opened it, and started to look unhurriedly for something inside.

  “Do you remember how I get my kicks, Maida?”

  Maida swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “I gave you a little demonstration once, didn’t I?”

  Maida felt the life draining out of her. “That was a long time ago, Elke.”

  “Memories sometimes need refreshing.”

  She stopped searching in her handbag and looked directly at Maida. Although her mouth was twisted in a smile there was a chilling deadness about her eyes.

  “Now, you wouldn’t be saying ‘No’ to me would you, Maida?”

  Maida’s mind raced. “It’s nothing personal, it’s for the company’s sake. Look, there are certain house rules here; the girls know the score when I take them on. I’ll turn a blind eye to a bit of snorting but I won’t tolerate anything harder. They just get all spaced out and no one wants them any more. Papillon is one of my best operatives. We get female executives in here, big spenders, class business. They know what they want and it’s her they ask for. She’s only seventeen; there’s years in that girl yet. If she gets hooked we’ll lose some extremely lucrative, steady, long-term business. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t point that out to you, would I?”

  She watched Elke carefully, trying hard to control her breathing. You never knew where you were with that woman. Zena was right – she was poisonous, like a snake, sleeping peacefully one moment, striking with fangs full of venom the next.

  Elke closed her handbag and the click of the catch sounded unnaturally loud in the room. “All right,” she said slowly. “Do you have an alternative suggestion?”

  “Papillon’s a sharp kid, very streetwise. We’ll just tell her to keep her stuff and his separate. She’ll get the message.”

  “If she’s that smart she’ll know we’re not doing this for his health. Will she have a problem with that?”

  “Papillon? She’ll laugh her head off. She told me it’s like having it done to you by a great white slug. But Zena says you’d never think so when you see her working on him. The kid’s a real professional.”

  Elke smiled crookedly. “That’s what we need, isn’t it, Maida? Professionals. All right, we’ll do it your way but it had better work. I want this man brought to heel. I’ll send the stuff over. She can tell him it will enhance his virility or something.”

  “She’s a smart girl. She’ll know what to say.”

  Elke got up to go. Maida exhaled softly and rose to her feet. At the door Elke paused and turned her head slightly. “By the way, where did she get that name?”

  “Who, Papillon? I gave it to her. It’s French. It means ‘butterfly’.”

  “I know that. So?”

  “Have you ever seen a butterfly using its tongue?”

  41

  “Neraya, my dear! How lovely to see you!”

  Karl Stott stepped forward to take her hand and kiss her cheek but she anticipated him and sat down quickly.

  “Can I ask my PA to get you a coffee?”

  This was no gesture of hospitality, she knew; he was just taking an early opportunity to brandish the trappings of his position as a company director.

  “No thank you, Karl.”

  She watched him as he sat down grandly in his executive chair. He had put on a lot of weight. He looked pale, dissipated. She didn’t want to spend more time in the company of this contented lizard than she had to.

  “Karl, I’ve come to see you about the mission Dan Larssen is flying to Saturn.”

  A shadow crossed his face but he recovered quickly, smiled and inclined his head, indicating that she should go on.

  “I know he’s still in Earth orbit but after he leaves I want to follow the progress of the mission. I’d like to be informed whenever you have a transmission from him.”

  The smile, she noticed, was still in place but his cheeks had stiffened.

  “Ah. Well, the position is that all transmissions will be received in the Mission Operations Room at SpaceFreight HQ. As you may know, one of the directors of Space Fleet also serves on the Board of SpaceFreight, so there is communication at that level. I’m not aware of any official request to communicate at, ah, any other level.”

  “I’m not asking you officially. I’m asking you unofficially.”

  “Neraya, my dear, I’m not sure you realize what you’re saying. This is a very delicate mission and all information pertaining to it has to be treated in the strictest confidence. It’s a decision that was made at a very high level – not something that could be, ah, re-interpreted by a mere company director such as myself.”

  “I have a high security clearance.”

  “Not high enough, I’m afraid. Information on this mission will be made available strictly on a need-to-know basis.”

  “That’s precisely it. I need to know.”

  Stott laughed unpleasantly. “You need to know for personal reasons. I’m talking about need-to-know for professional reasons. I’m afraid you haven’t convinced me that you have professional reasons.”

  She prepared to rise. His condescension was getting unbearable. “So you won’t tell me?”

  “Neraya, my dear, be reasonable. I’m not a free agent. I have to operate within boundaries the same as anyone else. Look, this, ah, interest you have in Larssen. For your own good, why don’t you draw a line under this chapter in your life? He’s not coming back, you know.”

  She felt the blood rise to her cheeks. “That’s not true!”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think you appreciate just how dangerous this mission is. Look, let me put it to you in business terms. Before SpaceFreight would agree to take it on we had to be indemnified for non-delivery. In a nutshell: if, for reasons outside our control, we fail to deliver the cargo we break even. That includes writing off the freighter. Of course if we do deliver we make a handsome profit. If the freighter comes back as well that’s a bonus, but no more than that. In a scheme this size Larssen’s a small ledger item, but just as a matter of interest do you know what we’re paying him?”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “Generous, isn’t it? About five times the going rate, on top of which we settled his not inconsiderable debts, and his, ah, debt to the State, and added the six-week holiday in Hedon. But in return for all that he’s had to sign a waiver. How does it go now?” He placed his fingertips t
ogether and gazed vacantly into space. “I think it’s something like: ‘The Company will use its best endeavours to safeguard its staff but no liability is accepted for death or injury incurred as a result of the mission.’”

  “Come off it, Karl. You know those clauses aren’t bulletproof. The Company could be challenged in court on ‘best endeavours’. Look, I’m not in Strategic Planning for nothing. When Dan arrives he won’t be unloading that freighter himself. There must be a crew out there and they must have arrived already, otherwise you wouldn’t be preparing for his departure now. That means the crew must have left more than fourteen months ago – but probably not a lot more. At just about that time Space Fleet records two spaceliners going out simultaneously with an undisclosed passenger inventory and to an undisclosed destination. Why two spaceliners, Karl? I can’t believe there were that many in the crew. It’s the fear of another StarTrader disaster, isn’t it? So don’t talk to me about waivers. Even with that clause in the contract they felt it necessary to arrange some sort of mutual backup.”

  Stott’s eyebrows lifted and he ran the tip of his tongue around his lips.

  She answered the unspoken question. “I told you, I have a high security clearance.”

  “Well, I’m not going to confirm or deny what you say, Neraya, but all that is besides the point. The bottom line is that Larssen will be flying that freighter on his own, and there won’t be any mutual backup for him. The risks are obvious. No one in his right mind would insure him. As far as payment’s concerned we’ve settled the debts now; he’ll get the rest of the package on his return.” He spoke slowly, with emphasis. “The company could afford to be generous. Why? Because it doesn’t expect him to return.”

  Neraya gritted her teeth. “He’s coming back, Karl. Depend on it!”

  “You still want to follow the mission?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, let’s see. Maybe we could come to some accommodation.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Neraya, you must know I’ve always admired you. You’re a handsome woman, I’m a successful man, we’d make a great team. I could set you up with a very comfortable life, far more comfortable than you could possibly afford on,” he glanced at the gold oak leaf on her epaulette and his lip curled slightly, “a Major’s pay. Don’t throw your life away on this loser. Move in with me and we can sort these other things out together.”

  Neraya smiled sweetly at him. “Like ‘favours for favours’ you mean?”

  His face lit up. “Yes, I suppose that is what I do mean.”

  She stood up and her voice was like ice. “Thank you for your time, Karl. Goodbye.”

  She was out through his office door before he could react. She hurried down the corridor and ducked quickly into a Ladies’ Toilet in case he followed her. She hung over the sink, her stomach heaving. After a few minutes the waves of nausea subsided and she straightened up slowly, looking into the mirror.

  The bastard! The nasty, toady little bastard! How dare he make such a suggestion to me!

  She dabbed cold water on her face. As she calmed down she started to have doubts.

  I’ve blown it. I’ve lost the one link I could have had to Dan. Should I have played along with him, at least for a while?

  She shook her head slowly and smiled into the mirror.

  No. That’s a bit of Dan Larssen in me. He would never sacrifice his personal integrity, no matter what was at stake. Well, neither will I.

  42

  Inside the central living pod of the triple-hulled Spacefreighter, Dan was preparing for sleep. He slipped into his bunk and lay there, exhausted. Having bounced around in zero gravity all day it was comforting to feel the light restraint of the soft, self-tensioning covers that stopped him from floating free. He started to relax.

  Just as he’d expected, Hal was doing an excellent job of coordinating the shuttle traffic from below, but that meant there was a lot for him to do up here and he was on his own. There were 204 cargo holds to load, 102 in the port cargo pod and another 102 in the starboard pod. The quickest way to get to the cargo area was to use the open trolley, which ran the length of the ship on a monorail in the corridor.

  The holds were in groups of twelve, separated by eight observation bays. These were used to make visual checks during docking, loading and unloading, and the bays projected slightly to provide a good field of view. As each shuttle came in he would have to go down into the Observation Bay nearest the assigned cargo hold to monitor the approach, making sure the pilot knew where to go and what to do.

  Once the shuttle had docked safely he would return along the access tube to the corridor. A similar access tube would then take him to the hold and he would be there, ready to check the consignment in, even before the shuttle pilot had opened the outer airlock doors. If he was at all concerned about the nature of the cargo he’d stay for a while to supervise the transfer. There could be up to four shuttles docked and unloading at any one time so he was constantly juggling his priorities and moving as quickly as he could from one hold to another.

  Some of the larger pieces of cargo couldn’t be handled in this way. Even in weightless conditions such items could get out of control, become wedged or do damage to the ship or themselves. For these the shuttle would not dock and the transfer had to be done in free space. It was a tricky operation for which the ship was equipped with two robot arms, one on each side, mounted on rails that ran the length of the cargo pods. Sometimes it took hours and nothing else could dock while it was in progress.

  Only when the curved shadow of night moved across the Earth below, cloaking it in darkness, would the shuttles stop coming. Then he’d take a well-earned rest before it all started again the following day. After more than two weeks of this it was no wonder he was tired.

  God, I miss you, Neraya. I wish the hell they’d let me at least talk to you.

  He knew that was impossible; any communication now had to be through one of the Flight Directors in the Mission Operations Room. He couldn’t even speak to Hal on a direct connection. And once he was on his way Hal would be out of the loop entirely. That made him uneasy. He had total confidence in Hal and no one in Mission Ops was remotely in the same league. He knew Hal wasn’t happy about it either, but there was nothing he could do. The operation had been cloaked in secrecy from beginning to end.

  He just wanted to get moving now – go out and back and get the whole thing over and done with. Well, there wasn’t long to go, everything was on schedule. Just a couple more holds in the port cargo pod and then, last of all, they’d be loading Holds 52 through 60, the heavy weaponry, all of it packed fully assembled so there’d be no delay in making Station Saturn operational. For that there’d be specially selected handlers and an armed escort.

  He’d be watching those consignments with particular interest.

  43

  The upper levels of the SpaceFreight headquarters building were largely deserted but a light was still burning in the window of one office.

  Karl Stott sat in front of his empty desk and looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, then back to the digital clock/calendar on the opposite wall. Thursday. His day. Every week it seemed to take longer to come around and every week he found it harder to contain his impatience. He wondered vaguely why that was. Probably he was working too hard. They exploited you if they could, these people; they sucked you dry. “Give it to Karl, he knows about these things.” Well to hell with them.

  Pity about Neraya. He’d put it so tactfully too, but then she always was a proud one. Still, he was better off without the complexity of a relationship. There was a lot to be said for keeping life simple. After all, sex was just a commodity and he could afford to get what he needed from real experts like Zena and Papillon.

  Was Zena there last week? That’s funny, I can’t remember exactly. She must have been. Oh well, it doesn’t matter, Papillon’s the one who really revives me. Clever Papillon with the little white packets. Oh God, i
t feels so good, like new life drilling through my veins. I can do anything after that. I suppose it’s some sort of drug but she says she’s been taking it for years and it hasn’t done her any harm. It’s not like I actually need it. I could do without it if I wanted to. But why should I? I’m entitled to my recreation.

  He glanced at his wrist yet again and his heels drummed a tattoo on the carpet. This was getting him down. Maybe he should arrange an earlier appointment in future. He used to like the idea of staying late, letting the other directors think he was working after hours.

  No need for that now, is there? I’m well established. I’ll get Maida to bring it forward. On a Thursday I can leave when the others do – even a bit earlier.

  Maybe I can fit in another session. Now there’s an idea. Mondays would be good. Then I’d be sharp for the rest of the week. No reason why not. I can afford it and I owe it to myself.

  Will that Klitgaard woman be there tonight? Got very pushy, didn’t she? Well, it was her own fault. All that stuff about legitimate business interests. Put me on the wrong track entirely. So they’re into rackets as well as running sex emporia like Maida’s. Why couldn’t she have said so in the first place, silly cow?

  She probably won’t be there – what I gave her will keep her busy for a while. Especially the part about what the freighter will be carrying. Very impressed, she was, that I had all the details of the flight path and schedule. Well, SpaceFreight won’t see that E-class or its cargo again but so what? The company will break even. They’ll simply offer to set up a new run. The Space Agency will be sore about the delay but they’ve got to agree. They want this stuff to go to Saturn and no one else has the capability.

  He pressed his fingertips together and bounced them thoughtfully on his lower lip. Finally he got up and went to his private bathroom. After he’d urinated he dwelt for a moment or two in front of the mirror, turning his face one way then the other. His features rearranged themselves into a sardonic smile.