The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  They sat around a table in the back working on hot dogs and fried potatoes.

  “I hate to keep using you guys as my gophers,” Frank said.

  Jones shrugged. Smith said, “Not a problem, Skipper. It helps us to learn the town better, plus it's interesting. What do you have in mind?”

  “Once our business operations start coming together here, we're going to need a bigger building. Maybe up in the hills above the town.”

  “Not on the waterfront?” Smith asked.

  “No. Those Dimotae, or whatever, give me the creeps.”

  “It's Dimatae, Skipper, and I think they like you.”

  “That's fine. They can like me from a distance. Every other time I leave the office, one of them is sloshing along beside me. We're sitting here having hot dogs, and I think he wants a Frank.”

  Jones choked and beer spurted out of his nose. Smith laughed out loud, as the other sergeant grabbed for a napkin.

  “That's a first, I believe,” Frank said.

  Jones wiped his face with a napkin. “I'm sorry, Skipper. I had some beer go down the wrong pipe.”

  “Uh huh. You guys need to stick to soft drinks.”

  “The Colonel would think we was going soft,” Jones said.

  “I would worry about that if I were him,” Frank replied. “I look forward to hearing from the Colonel when he finds out about my latest adventure.”

  “It is apt to be colorful,” Smith said.

  “Everything Otto says is colorful,” Frank said. “Do all the New Prussians talk that way?”

  “Not that I know of,” Smith said. “I think he picked it up for its shock value.”

  “The only other people I've heard talk that way are from New America. In fact, that sort of language could get you tied up and whipped on Harmon.”

  “I believe the Colonel was called in on a consult on Harmon,” Smith said.

  “Really? I thought they didn't let outsiders in.”

  “They've had a nasty civil war and the government was looking for advice.”

  “I heard about that war,” Frank said. “Seems like it's been going on a hundred years or so. They used nukes and everything. I think it's still going on.”

  “Yeah, and Harmon is not exactly a garden world anyway,” Smith said. “I can't understand people urinating in their own drinking water that way.”

  “No accounting for stupidity,” Frank said.

  “Something like what Commander Ciera said,” Jones commented.

  “Oh yeah,” Frank said. “Never underestimate the stupidity of people in large numbers.”

  “Wonder what he's doing now,” Smith mused.

  “Probably pulling his hair out keeping Franklin out of trouble,” Frank said.

  “I never thought Franklin needed a keeper,” Smith said.

  “As compared to me, you mean?”

  “I didn't say that, Skipper.”

  “Uh huh. Here comes old man Frakes with his pitcher of beer. Has Jones had enough?”

  “Nope,” Jones said, as he held his glass up.

  “Smith, I'll rely on you to keep him sober.”

  “Right, Skipper.”

  “Back to the business at hand,” Frank said. “At whatever point we move the company operations out here from Earth, we'll start immediately with about forty employees. I could see us ultimately having several hundred. So maybe we should think about buying a building and renting out whatever space we don't immediately need.”

  “Are you going to park Love's people in the new offices too?”

  “I didn't think about that,” Frank admitted. “If I provide the office space, he might give us a discount. Yeah, we should consider that too.”

  “Something nicer than we have now?” Smith asked.

  “Something sturdier,” Frank said. “Every time I walk across the floor upstairs, it feels like it's going to cave in.”

  “That's the difference between picturesque and functional,” Smith said. “None of those buildings down by the waterfront are what you call stout.”

  “Right. That's another reason to get away from there. I know the weather is peaceful on this planet, but if we do ever get a decent storm, that whole area is going for a ride out to sea. It never ceases to amaze me the places where people build.”

  “The tourists like it.”

  “Yeah, and we'll probably have a bunch of them killed if the weather turns bad. No, do some looking in the hills above the harbor. There's no rush right now, but once it happens, it will happen quickly.”

  “Are you talking to our agent on Earth, Skipper?”

  “If you can call a twelve-week turnaround on messages a conversation, Cedric. I told him to make a decision when to close us out, consistent with his business needs. So I'm liable to have a message arrive with the data load, telling me the deal is done. We'll have to move fast if that happens.”

  “And Gough doesn't seem to trust anybody around here to hire,” Smith said.

  “That bothers me. I could probably bring in some people from Caledon to help run the business, but I'm afraid there would be trouble.”

  “Any ex-Navy or Marines in the area?” Jones asked.

  “That was my first thought. If there were, Gough and Emily would know about them, and probably have them hired already. Ergo, there aren't.”

  “And any of the spare Baltic Regiment people are living on Hepplewhite,” Smith said.

  “I thought of that too,” Frank said. “No, Franklin's having a tough enough time without me pulling his resources out to help me. I felt badly enough about bringing you two.”

  “The Major insisted.” Smith said.

  When Admiral Krause suggested that Frank leave Hepplewhite, the commandant of the Baltic Regiment detachment at Montora, Major Martin Boodles, had more or less forced Frank to take Smith & Jones with him when he left.

  “More like he dislocated my shoulder twisting my arm,” Frank said. “And, subsequent events have caused me to question that decision. Water over the dam at this point, I guess.”

  Smith nodded. “Okay, Jonesy and I will scout around and get you some choices to look at.”

  “That would be fine. Thanks Sarge. Now, let's pay the bill and get out of here before we have to carry Jones.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Charles Schubach, Master of the Forsythia sat across from Frank in his office in the Old Town. Schubach was a lean man of forty, who looked younger. One leg crossed the other, and a highly polished shoe dangled as he swung his leg. His thin face was highlighted by a pencil-line mustache, and jug-ears. His black hair was grown just long enough to comb over. He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped the fingers of his right hand against his left arm.

  “Tell me once again, Sir, what your plans are for this place,” Schubach said.

  “Mainly, I'm setting up corporate operations here. I'm taking Willard Krause's advice and pulling up stakes on Earth,” Frank said. “I'm also here because this is where the Admiral suggested I settle.”

  “Not much of a planet,” Schubach commented, “although it is rather quiet.”

  “The people here seem content to not do much of anything. Even the lowlife does not seem highly motivated.”

  Schubach raised an eyebrow. “You've already run into the lowlife, Skipper?”

  Frank nodded. “Amazing how many people around here try to get their hands in your pocket. Apparently it's done in lieu of taxes. The head of the local University was happy to accept a contribution to help keep the town operating. Then the head of the planetary protection racket also made his wishes known.”

  “And have they found his body yet?”

  Frank snorted. “He doesn't know it, but he's working for me now. We kind of settled matters four weeks ago.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “Why Charles, your opinion of me is such that you think it normal for me to associate with the local swine?” Frank grinned.

  “I've seen you in operation before, Skipper.”<
br />
  “The crooks here aren't very challenging. Given time I'll have them eating out of my hand.”

  “Just so they don't bite the hand that feeds them.”

  “You're getting better at that, Charles,” Frank grinned.

  “I learned it from my boss.”

  “So you have,” Frank said with a smile. “Let's go over your report, then we can wander over to Rapunzel's for lunch.”

  Schubach extracted a small folio from the front pocket of his slacks and opened it. “I've got the data chip here. I planned to report verbally as well.”

  “Always glad to see you so well prepared, Charles.”

  Schubach sniffed. “I'm always well prepared, Skipper. Surely you know that.”

  “I think the word is anal,” Frank said as he reached out to accept the data chip from the other man's hand. “That's why you were a great Exec, and I think a great CO.”

  “Well, whatever. After you turned the ship over to me at Harcourt, I took the Great Circle route as we discussed. I bypassed Victor as I didn't like what I was hearing about it. I stopped at Alsace and New Prussia, then went on to Danica.”

  “Did you stop at Baughman's?”

  “No I picked up a perishable cargo at Tsien-Chu and had to hurry it to Alsace.”

  “Okay,” Frank murmured as he studied the report on his terminal. “You cleared a very nice profit on that cargo by itself. The consignments look good too.”

  “Oh, and I took military supplies from New Prussia to Addison's Planet. Did you know the Baltic Regiment is no longer based at New Prussia?”

  “Actually, yes, I did.” Frank's face darkened. “I'm sorry the mail didn't catch up with you. Otto Putin came to me, hat in hand, on Hepplewhite. I agreed to let him base at Montora.”

  “I'm sure there is a story behind that one, Sir,” Schubach said.

  Frank shook his head. “Yes there is, and it's about as bad as it gets.”

  “Skipper?”

  Frank looked up at Schubach. “Wendy is dead, Charles.”

  “Oh.... No!” Schubach buried his face in his hands and shook silently for a couple of minutes. Finally he looked up, the mask of grief now in place, and tears running down his face.

  “What... happened Skipper?”

  “We had an insane Duke on Hepplewhite. He was responsible for the death of my brother and his wife. In spite of my best efforts, I was unable to hold the situation together. He had Wendy murdered.”

  “Really insane, or just evil?”

  “Is there a difference? No, he had Kinsolver's Disease. He really had gone around the bend.”

  “Is that from that bug out on Samothrace?” Schubach asked.

  “Right. They found him drunk, and drowned in his bath. But, he was already pretty far gone.”

  “I just cannot believe Wendy is gone.” Schubach slowly swung his head back and forth. “I know I'm not that much younger than you are, Skipper, but she was like a mother to me. How is Franklin doing?”

  “Franklin is now the Margrave of Montora. Unfortunately his life hasn't settled down. They got the government back together and then suffered a pirate attack. They just received a destroyer from the Navy and he's taking it out to hunt down the pirates.”

  “What do you want to bet he tracks them to Victor?” Schubach asked. “That's why I avoided the place. The pirates seem to be congregating there. I don't understand why Admiral Krause doesn't take a task force in there to clean them out.”

  “Krause is playing games with the movers and shakers on Earth and Centauri. He doesn't have time for us little people.”

  “Surely his job is to keep the sector secure,” Schubach said. “I thought that was his job.”

  “His job is to lecture said little people on remaining orderly and quiet while he urinates all over them.”

  “Whoa, Skipper. Isn't that a little harsh? I mean, I know the Admiral has a strong sense of noblesse oblige.”

  Frank rolled his eyes. “So once we buried the old Duke and started getting the planet together again, Admiral Krause arrives with his friend Carlo Roma – who is the dead duke's brother, by the way – and he orders me off planet. He lectures really well about keeping the peace, but he was mainly interested in keeping the peace with Nano Roma.”

  “He couldn't order you off your own property, Skipper.”

  “That's what I thought too, Charles. I could have taken the Navy to court, and Carlo Roma too, for that matter. I believe I would have won. But, I also think Willard Krause would have had me killed to keep the whole mess buried. Putting Franklin over Montora was the compromise solution. So, here I am.”

  “Geeze, Skipper, I am so sorry. I just can't believe all this.” Schubach rubbed his face with both hands.

  “And I'm sorry you didn't get the word about Wendy. It was just one thing after another on that stupid planet. I should never have taken her there with me.”

  “Skipper, you couldn't have known.”

  Frank shook his head. “But, I did know, Charles. I had several opportunities to get her off-planet. She wouldn't let me, but I never pushed it. I should have.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “About Hepplewhite? Nah. Just drop in on Franklin when you're in the neighborhood. But don't go there just for that. There's probably not enough business to justify a stopover.”

  “I'll watch for a consignment load going there,” Schubach said.

  “You're doing a great job skippering Forsythia. I want you to keep it up. I have a couple more ships now.”

  “Really? How did that happen?”

  “I had a chance to pick up Nyland and Danica Maiden,” Frank said. “They were listed for disposal.”

  “I know about those ships, at least the Maiden, anyway. They aren't that old.”

  “Willard Krause, when he threw me off Hepplewhite, promised me he would make it up by sending some business my way. The prices on the two ships were so low it's almost embarrassing.”

  “How did you crew them?” Schubach asked.

  “I retained the skippers and a good part of the original crews. We recruited the rest from here.”

  Schubach ran his hands through his hair. “This is a lot to take in, Sir. I guess I need instructions on what to do next. I know you hate having starships parked in orbit any longer than necessary.”

  “What kind of shape is the ship in?” Frank asked.

  “We were due for a minor maintenance cycle, so I took the chance to have that done while we were at Caledon. The yards there are decent.”

  “So the crew got rested too?”

  “For two weeks, yes, Sir.”

  Frank cocked his head as he looked at the report on his screen. “Tell you what, why not give your crew a couple days here in Gustav. We can get back together tomorrow after I've digested this report.”

  “That sounds very good, Sir.”

  “Okay, let's head to lunch.”

  § § §

  “Fillbee, this is Captain Charles Schubach of the Forsythia,” Frank said as Fillbee waited to take their order.

  The scrawny waiter shivered nervously. “Yes?”

  “You might let Benjie know that Captain Schubach's crew will be on planet for a couple of days. I would greatly appreciate it if they are unmolested.”

  “Oh, we won't bother them,” Fillbee said.

  “Be sure that you don't,” Frank said as he glared at the waiter. “Now what's the special for today?”

  After the waiter left, Frank busied himself buttering a roll.

  “May I ask what that was all about?” Schubach asked.

  “You may. Working here is Fillbee's day job. He also works for a Benjamin Chavis, who runs the local protection racket.”

  Schubach nodded. “Light dawns.”

  “I always knew you were smart. While I am thinking of it, please instruct your purser and supercargo to keep quiet about your profitability.”

  “Benjie will raise the vig?”

  “He might try,” Frank sai
d. “He wouldn't get very far, but I really don't want the hassle right now.”

  “I understand. I will make sure they are instructed. I made a rather large deposit at the local branch of UBS.”

  “That's probably all right,” Frank said. “UBS has a reputation for protecting the privacy of its customers.”

  “I just want to make sure Forsythia is the crack ship in what is now your fleet.”

  “Thanks, Charles. Now, tell me about the crew. What kind of challenges have you faced in your first command?”

  The lunch went on with the two men discussing the details of commanding a starship and the varied personalities of its crew. Fillbee stood off to the side and studied them in puzzlement.

  Standing further back in the shadows near the freshers, Jones watched Fillbee, who didn't notice him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Caledon wants you,” Spanky said.

  Frank was sitting at his desk trying to decipher one of George Liston's invoices. He looked up at the Woogie, who had slipped unnoticed into his office. “What?”

  “Caledon wants you,” the little pink alien repeated.

  “Spanky, you are going to have to explain that. I have not the slightest idea of what you are talking about. And who let you in here, anyway?”

  “So sorry, the Woogie. The Stephanie said go on up. Have great cargo on Caledon. Need safe transport. Sooozie wants to see Frank.”

  “Suzie who?”

  “From Spanky's nest. Not trust other shippers. To trust the Frank. Great cargo!” The emphasis came through the vocoder strapped around Spanky's middle.

  “Okay, I think I understand,” Frank said. “You have a cargo on Caledon that you want me to move. Where do you want to send it?”

  “Must go to Man-home. Payment for Woogie charter.”

  Frank leaned back and rubbed an index finger under his nose. “Man-home... you mean Earth?”

  “Yes. Man-home. Earth. For Woogie charter.”

  “Okay you've lost me again. What charter are we talking about?”

  “To give Woogaea home rule. Woogie planet. Woogie owners.”

  “Woogaea is under a Caledon protectorate. Are you saying you are abolishing that?”