by J. L. Curtis
Remington whistled, “Damn. That is some serious bone structure. What were you shooting?”
Fargo replied, “Sixteen millimeter depleted uranium beads. Their bones are tough enough that they will actually deflect one occasionally.”
Another thought struck Remington, “It looked like they were actually hunting you.”
Fargo said, “They were. One was trying to hold my attention while the other one ambushed me from the back. Mated pairs do tend to hunt that way. That’s how they bring down big game.”
“Son of a bitch! And you still went out there? Damn man, you are nuts!”
Fargo smiled a little, “No, not nuts. Crazy maybe, but not nuts. I’m certified sane by the GalScouts.”
“Certifiable,” Remington mumbled, “You want something to eat?”
Fargo nodded, “I could go for some food. Matter of fact, I’m kinda hungry.”
Remington and Fargo hit the autochef for food, and went to a table at the end of the day room. Fargo ate quietly while Remington dealt with a number of loggers who came over with questions, work issues and supplies they needed. After an hour, Remington finally said, “Okay guys, anything else, send me a message. I’ve got to get Mr. Fargo here back to his place. He tells me there isn’t another set of these things within range, so take the rest of the day and hit it again tomorrow. I’m making a supply run and I’ll be back in three days for a pickup.”
A chorus of grumbles and laughter followed them out the door. Fargo quickly caped the second Silverback, folded the skins in on themselves and loaded them in a compartment on the exterior of the Betsy.
Four hours later, Remington punched him awake, “We’re here. If you don’t mind, I’m going to dump you here, and head back up to the station. I need to get a load sorted to go to Star Center by eight divs tomorrow. I’ll also post your credits to you as soon as I get up to the station.”
A little groggy, Fargo simply nodded, shook his hand and climbed down, then back up to get the two skins out of the compartment. Looking through the viewport, he saw Remington shaking his head in mirth. Waving, he climbed back down again, picked up his rifle and bag and headed for the store.
***
Luann looked up when he walked through the portal, “My god, what stinks?”
Fargo held up the hides, “It might be these. Can I stick them in the storage building for the night? I don’t want to try to fly back in the dark.”
Luann nodded, “Anywhere but in here.” She yelled over her shoulder, “Mikhail! Can you help Ethan please? He’s got some dead animal skins that are stinking up the place!”
Mikhail came through the curtain a minute later, “Let’s go out and around. She’ll have kittens if we walk through the living room with those things. They do smell a bit don’t they?”
Fargo shrugged, “Depends on what you’re used to. Luann’s always been sensitive that way.”
Mikhail swung the door open on the storage building, “Drop them over there. You’re staying the night, right?”
Dropping the hides where Mikhail indicated, he replied, “Yes, if Luann doesn’t kick me out.”
“I don’t think so… But I need to let you know about something else that is going on.”
Fargo stopped, “What?”
“Gann is trying to dig up dirt on you.”
“Gann? Who… Oh, she’s the one that lost the kid in the liteflyer crash, right?”
“Yeah, that’s her. She’s gotten Klynton to go to Colonel Cameron to dig up your background. She’s also spreading rumors that you didn’t actually retire from the Scouts, you were kicked out for cowardice.”
“What the…”
“I told you that you’d made an enemy. Palette is apparently helping her. But the good news is everything Allen pulled cleared us and put the blame squarely on Gann and her daughter. Thing is, Cameron will sweep it under the rug, since he doesn’t want to rock the boat with Klynton.”
Fargo rolled his eyes, “So money talks?”
“Not so much money as power.”
They both said, “And absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Fargo asked, “What are my options? Or do you see any options?”
“Well, we know we’re clear, so the only thing I can offer is to go back into the Green and keep as low a profile as you can. And stay the hell out of White Beach.”
“I don’t have a reason to go to White Beach, unless I’m with you. But I have to tell you, I’m not comfortable letting her or anyone else pull shit like this. I’ve been through this once already.”
Mikhail nodded, “I remember. I’ve got to make a trip down there in a few days. I’ll try to get in to see Colonel Keads. He’s one of the good guys. Maybe he can deflect some of the BS. Hell, they can try to come after me if they want to, but they really can’t hurt me.”
“I’d appreciate it. Otherwise, I’ll go down there and take care of her myself.”
Mikhail held up his hands, “Let’s not get hasty, especially in this case. I’ll do what I can. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she’ll fall over dead… Let’s go in before Luann gets curious as to what we’re doing out here.”
***
Fargo was still steaming the next morning. Knowing that Mikhail was right didn’t make it any easier. He hadn’t gotten much sleep trying to figure out a way to nip this problem in the bud, but he hadn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t land him in hot water, or prison.
He asked Mikhail to just drop the hides off with the taxidermist in town, and headed for the Green. Landing at the cabin, he let his breath out slowly, smiling as Cattus and Canis came bounding around the corner of the cabin, “At least the two of you don’t give a crap what I do, as long as I feed you.”
Climbing out of the liteflyer, he played with both of them for a couple of minutes, until Urso came around the corner on a run. Urso was now over one hundred pounds and didn’t realize her own strength. He used his empathic sense to push calm to all three of them and only got a light bat in the ribs as Urso tried to grab him. He pulled the three haunches he’d gotten from Luann out of the back of the liteflyer, dropping them in a line twenty feet apart. Each one of the animals immediately forgot about him, and he finished stowing the liteflyer after he wiped down the cargo compartment.
Setting the water dishes out on the porch, he brewed a cup of real coffee and sat on the porch as dusk fell. Urso had finished her haunch, and was sniffing at Cattus’ portion, with Cattus popping her on the nose every time she got too close. He called Urso over to the porch and started working with her again. He decided she might be powerful, but she’d never be as trainable as Cattus or Canis. After he’d worked with her for about a half a div, he finally gave up and brought out a treat for her.
After a quick meal, Fargo settled on the couch, commanded the e-tainment center to search for articles and other mentions of Klynton and Gann. After three hours, he had a headache, was firmly convinced that both of them were, at best, serial liars, and at worst out and out criminals.
Everything he saw pointed to both of them using their positions for their own enrichment, currying or selling favors where they could, possibly bribing others and hints of people disappearing when they crossed the two of them. Fargo shivered as he looked at the totality of the information, wondering how anyone could have possibly thought either one of these women could have possibly been good for Hunter.
He queued some searches for Earth, and decided to go to bed. She wants to play games? That is a two way street…
***
Fargo stretched, sliding the blinds open, to see bright sunlight streaming in the window. He got up, padded through the fresher on the way to the kitchen, and stepped on a bone either Cattus or Canis had left in the middle of the floor. Cussing, he opened the front door and threw the bone out, as Cattus and Canis bolted by him.
Juggling his bulb of coffee, he commanded the e-tainment system on, calling up the search cue results. He was disappointed to only see three items in the search box, but call
ed them up anyway. All three of them dealt with one court case, where both Gann and Klynton had been sued for lying under oath in a bribery case in the Bosphillyton complex that stretched from the old city of Boston to the national capitol.
Apparently, some small businesses had been promised deals for long term complex contracts for retaining the two of them, but no contracts were ever issued. There was no follow-up on the outcome of the trial, and he thought, Looks like somebody paid off the judges, or they stretched it out to the point that the case was dropped because the plaintiffs couldn’t afford to keep paying lawyers. So probably guilty as charged. Interesting that it was only a year before the first colony ship came out here…
Filing that knowledge away, Fargo commanded the system off, and started preparing for his upcoming trip to Star Center.
Road Trip
Fargo’s last stop before he headed back to the trading post was the medical clinic. Doc Jenkins looked at him curiously, “What’s up Fargo? You’re not sick are you?”
Fargo said, “Nope, but I’m on my way to Star Center, and I figured I’d stop by and see if you needed anything.” He sensed OneSvel moving around in the back of the clinic and sent out a thought, OneSvel, I am going to Star Center. I will be taking the pelts. Please advise the GalScout command.
Doc nodded, “Matter of fact, there are some things you can either pick up, or get on order for me. Mostly antibiotics and injectables we’re getting low on.” Turning away, he continued, “Give me a minute to get a list together. I’ll be right back.”
OneSvel came through the door, “Oh, good day Mr. Fargo, I didn’t know you were here.” As Doc passed him, OneSvel continued a polite conversation as he linked with Fargo, “Understood. There is apparently concern about the Trader you killed here. There have been questions raised, and the official line was he a random spacer who was killed in the commission of a crime.” Checking quickly, OneSvel continued the thought, “Nothing has been released identifying him as a Trader, but he has been tied to the CU, and has never lived in free space. Some indicators are he was probably born on one of the construction stations, from his bone structure and musculature. His piloting implant self-destructed as soon as we attempted to access it, but the fragments recovered were not of GalPat, GalScout, or free space manufacture.”
Fargo replied to OneSvel’s pleasantries as he thought back, “Then Nicole was right when she thought she heard Spanglish.”
OneSvel nodded an extrusion with eyestalks as he watched the door for Doc Jenkins. “How many of the pelts are you taking?”
Fargo thought, “All of them. If I’m going to make a splash, then I need to have all the numbers and variety I can push up. There are also fifteen Silverback, seven Slashgator and eleven Slashlizard skins from that clean up I did on Bacolod for their TBT rep.”
OneSvel thought curiously, “So what do you think is the total value of what you’re taking?”
Fargo shrugged both physically and mentally, “Probably around two million credits.”
Doc came thought the partition, “Sorry for the delay, Fargo. I’ve added a couple of spare parts for the doc-in-the-box, but those can be ordered if you can’t find them.” Handing him both a data and a credit chip, he continued, “It’s all on here, and the credit chip should cover both the cost and the shipping to bring it back.”
Fargo asked, “And if it’s not?”
Doc winced, “Hopefully it is. If not, try to FTL me and I’ll see if I can get money transferred to you. You still have a TFCU account, right?”
Fargo nodded, “Yep, fifty plus years.” Slipping the chips in his pocket, he added, “I’ve got to run. We’re lifting in two hours, and I need to go see Luann.”
***
Fargo took the runabout over to the Copper Mug, stuck his head in, but only saw Hank, the bartender when Nicole was busy. Hank smiled at him, “She’s already left for the spaceport. She’s still bitching over the cost of the lift, how she’s losing money, and how stupid it is to try to lift heavy stuff like wine out of the gravity well.”
Fargo chuckled, “Yeah, glad my skins don’t weigh that much. Guess I better head that way myself. Remember to see Mikhail if you have any problems.”
Hank nodded, “I will. Y’all fly safe, and stay out of trouble. I can’t run this place for long by myself.”
Fargo replied, “As if we had anything to do with it, but yeah, I hope we do.” Waving, he returned to the runabout, driving it back to the trading post. Mikhail was standing on the steps when he pulled in. “Where did Luann go?”
Mikhail shrugged, “She’s around somewhere. I swear you’d think you were going to war, rather than just to Star Center if you listen to her! You want to go on out to the port?”
Fargo replied, “I guess I’d better. I need to make sure the pelts are properly packed, and all the med clearances and stuff are completed. I can’t believe how much they were claiming it costs, versus how much it actually cost per pelt or skin.”
Mikhail laughed, “I know Luann tried to tell you, but you just didn’t want to listen. They were ripping you off for large credits. I think this trip is going to open your eyes to how much money you should have made.” He hopped in the runabout and strapped in, as Fargo backed out and started toward the port.
***
Fargo led Nicole down to port six on the space station, and was startled to see a familiar looking and sounding individual standing at the personnel tube, “Ho Klang, see you I do. Watch you are standing? More trunks I have.”
The hulking Arcturian turned, squeaking into his GalTrans, “Ho Fargo, Hyderabad you ride again?” Looking down at Nicole, he asked, “Female with you? Watch I am not. Relief I am.”
Fargo sensed Nicole bristling beside him and he quickly replied, “Female is…” Searching for the right word in Galactic he finally settled on, “self-sufficient, not companion. Nicole Levesque. Nicole this is Klang, the cargomaster.”
Nicole, slightly mollified, said, “Ho Klang, see you I do. Crates of liquid I have. Storage requirements for ten thousand four hundred pounds of wine, I have.”
Klang squeaked again, “Storage requirements I received. Storage requirements I have met. Documentation you have?” As he glanced at Fargo, he said, “Documentation and medical forms, you have?”
Fargo and Nicole nodded as they handed over their respective data chips. The actual watch, whom Fargo recognized as Khalil, one of the engine crew from New Saud, scrambled out of the personnel tube, “Mr. Fargo! You are travelling with us again?”
Fargo nodded, “Both Mrs. Levesque and I are going to Star Center, Khalil. How are you doing?”
“Hot, straight and normal.” Khalil handed the data chips back he’d received from Klang. You’re both good to go aboard. No weapons, we’ll deposit them in the armory until we arrive.” Glancing at Fargo he continued, “You know the drill. You are cleared aboard, Keldar will assign your billets. I probably won’t see you unless it’s at chow.”
Fargo laughed, “I was hoping we might spar a little, if there was some down time. I’ve been practicing.” He stripped off his pistol belt, pulled his vibro knife out and slipped it onto the gun belt. Nicole did the same, adding a second knife to her belt, and passing it to Fargo.
Fargo politely motioned to Nicole as he said, “After you.”
Nicole replied, “Oh, no. You seem to be very familiar with this ship, so I’ll follow you.”
Fargo glanced at her, “Are you mad about something?”
Nicole shrugged, “The assumption that I was your… And paying twenty-six thousand credits to get that stupid wine out of the gravity well…”
Fargo shook his head, “Different cultures. Regardless of what GalPat says, or decrees, there is always going to be the inherent biases from the particular home worlds. How much wine did you bring?”
Nicole grimaced, “Two hundred sixty cases, all that I had. Lead on, I don’t want you watching my ass in this damn shipsuit. It’s way too tight!”
Fargo laughed and
propelled himself into the boarding tube before he said the wrong thing and got himself in more trouble, but he did sense a wry sense of humor underlying Nicole’s smoky and prickly personality. And frankly, he wanted to watch her go down the boarding tube, but he stomped on that and other thoughts quickly, since she obviously wasn’t feeling the same attraction he was.
Keldar was his usual grumpy self, and met them at the hatch, a pinched expression on his face, “I am the purser, Keldar. Your chits are in order, extra charges for overweight cargo have been approved. Fargo, compartment three-three forward. Levesque, compartment four-three forward. Standard meal schedule.”
Sensing Nicole bristling again, he quickly motioned her forward saying, “He was the same way last time. It’s his nature.” He was surprised when his wrist comp pinged. Glancing at it, he saw, WELCOME ABOARD, CAPTAIN. DO YOU REQUIRE GUIDANCE?
Tapping the wrist comp, he said, “Negative guidance. Thank you.
Nicole looked at him curiously as they proceeded up decks, “What was that all about?
Fargo replied, “I was aboard this ship coming out from X-ray, and since I was the only passenger, they granted me access to the ship’s AI. I guess it remembered me.” Stopping in front of compartment four, he continued, “This one is yours. I’m next door.” Glancing down, he saw that Nicole was also wearing a wrist comp and said, “Hang on a second.” Tapping his, he said, “AI, this is Fargo, can you add Mrs. Levesque’s wrist comp to your system access?”
A pleasant female voice responded out of the speaker, “Done, Captain. Mrs. Levesque, please check your comp in three, two…”
Nicole’s wrist comp beeped an alert as she glanced at it. It showed an alert in red that said ‘SHIP PUSH TEST’. It also started a count in the female voice, “One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one. Please confirm by voice and touch receipt of alert.”
Looking at Fargo, Nicole cocked her head, then punched the acknowledgement, saying, “AI, Nicole Levesque, copied all audio and visual alerts.”