by T. R. Harris
His friends agreed to the plan and two hours later Adam had the alien starship loaded with supplies and weapons—including a couple of grav-drive torpedoes he found on the Colony Ship—and was out the airlock, heading for deep space. His biggest concern was that his friends would make the transfer with MK before he could reach them. He found it hard to believe Maris-Kliss would place such dangerous technology in their flash weapons, but what did he know. They didn’t get to be the largest company in the galaxy by playing it safe. Hell, they may be trying to acquire the collector just to keep it out of the hands of their competitors. Still, it was a terrible risk having the DMC out in the open and accessible by people who didn’t realize the danger.
And that included Sherri and Copernicus. Honestly, Adam would have taken the assignment for free just to protect his friends. But he didn’t tell the Gracilians that.
59
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”
“That’s not helping,” Sherri Valentine chided.
“It’s not hurting either!” Copernicus Smith yelled back. He was in the forward focusing ring compartment, having just got the gravity-well to reform a few minutes before. Now it had dissolved again. “I’m beginning to think anything built by the Incus is a piece of crap. First the research facility and now this stupid ship. Hell, we can’t even keep the internal gravity working consistently. That’s a real bitch.”
Already covered in grease, he bent down and crawled back into the focusing ring access tube. As before, he couldn’t find anything wrong. The damn well just wasn’t stable. He would tweak the alignment a little and hope that would bring the engines back online. It had worked before, if only temporarily.
It had been a frustrating sequence of fits and starts. After eighteen days in space Sherri and Copernicus were just now making it back to the galactic border. They should have done it in ten. And adding to their anxiety, the Continuous Wormhole communications system was on the fritz, making it impossible to contact Maris-Kliss and coordinate the rendezvous location. They had the goods, now all they needed was the buyer.
The comm system had functioned for a little while when they first left the research station, enough to make contact and let the huge weapons manufacturer know they had the dark matter collector. But before they could agree on a contact point, the connection was lost. After that, seventeen days of silence. The buyers must be going crazy, Coop thought. He would. He was. With so much money on the line, he was nervous as a cat thinking it could all go away.
But why would it? He and Sherri still had the only DMC in existence. MK would wait. They had to.
Half an hour later Coop met Sherri on the bridge of the small—and supposedly fast—starship. The engines were working again…for the moment. That was encouraging. He also had a bandage on this forehead from when the internals failed a few minutes back, sending him crashing into an overhead support bracket.
Sherri was at the comm center with a panel removed from underneath, red-faced with frustration.
“I can’t see anything wrong with it,” Sherri growled. She got to her feet. “We have to find another CW station, and fast.”
Coop went to the nav console. Now that they were back in the galaxy, there were a few star systems within the range of even their clunky starship.
“Navior,” he said. “We could go there.”
Sherri joined him at the screen. “Do you know the place?”
“Yeah, I used to get a lot of business out of there. The Gradis Cartel has a pretty big presence there.”
“Won’t they recognize you?”
“That was years ago, and if there’s one thing I know about criminal cartels, it’s that their rank-and-file change all the time. A few of the leaders may stick around, but not the foot soldiers. It should be fine. Besides, we won’t be there long, just enough to make contact with MK.”
Sherri snorted. “After that, please promise me we’ll buy the most-expensive starship we can and then throw this piece of shit into the nearest star.”
“On that you have my word.”
They kissed, but their hearts weren’t in it. Trapped together for the past eighteen days in the tiny starship had killed what passion they may have had for each other—at least for the moment. They needed a vacation, on a warm, sandy beach somewhere. And whether or not the seven hundred fifty thousand credits they would get for the collector would rekindle the passion, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.
“Uh oh,” Sherri said, looking down at the nav screen.
Copernicus was seated at the pilot’s station, his feet on the console, dozing. The engines were working at the moment, and he was taking advantage of the respite to catch up on some lost sleep. Fighting with the engines was a full-time job, just as it had been aboard the research station. He was bone tired, and if he never saw another gravity drive system in his life, it would be too soon….
“Did you say something?” he inquired, Sherri’s voice just now registering in his brain.
“Yeah, we have company.”
Coop was by her side a moment later.
She was right. A huge contact signal had lined up ahead of them, on gravity drive and closing. They knew the cargo they carried was valuable. Had others learned of it and were now wanting their piece of the pie?
Copernicus returned to the pilot seat. He had absolutely no confidence the engines would hold up during a prolonged sprint away from the huge ship. He changed course slightly, testing the intentions of the contact. The ship changed course to match his.
“I’m powering down,” he said. “No use making them fire on us. If the shields work like the rest of the systems on this ship, it will only take one cannon bolt to take us out.”
A sound bleeped through the bridge speakers. Sherri looked at Coop. “What’s that?” Then it dawned on her: it was an incoming conventional communications message. CW links had been used for so long that she’d forgotten what an old fashion comm signal sounded like. She didn’t even know starships still had them.
She went to the station, and after a moment, found the contact switch. The message was audio-only.
“We are reading you…what do you want?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“We are representatives of the Maris-Kliss organization. Is this the vessel from the Incus-Gracilian research facility?”
“Yes! Yes it is!” Sherri shouted. “Boy, are we glad to hear from you. Our CW system has been down. How did you find us?”
“We extrapolated your course from the station to the nearest Incus Federation world and positioned ourselves for an intercept along that path.”
“Well, great job. We have the collector. Are you ready to make the transfer?”
There was silence on the line, which caused Sherri to look at Coop and shrug.
“You say you have the dark matter device…and the cubes?” asked the deep voice through the speakers.
“Yes, the device plus fifty-two cubes.”
“Are they secure?”
Sherri frowned. “Yes, they’re in the cases used by the Gracilians. We haven’t messed with them. They’re just as secure as when we took them.” She pursed her lips, growing frustrated and nervous. “Do you want them or not? If you don’t, I’m sure there are others who will.”
Copernicus grimaced, believing Sherri’s tone was a little harsh, especially when speaking with representatives from the largest company in the galaxy.
“We will make the transfer,” said the voice. “We were under the impression you had betrayed us, since no communications were forthcoming.”
“That’s understandable. But we’re not betraying anyone. Is your ship large enough to take this one onboard?”
“Yes. We will approach. Rendezvous in thirty standard minutes.”
The hum of the comm connection ended, signaling an end to the conversation.
“That was strange,” Coop said. “You would think they would be more excited.”
“Don’t read too much into it, sweetie. After all, the
se are aliens we’re dealing with.”
Coop laughed. “Yeah…and that’s just what they’re saying about us.”
60
Copernicus had never seen such a new and shiny starship as the Maris-Kliss vessel. It was built around a long central rectangle, with various modules mounted on the hull, along with stubby wings on each side. The wings were for sensors and advanced focusing ring pods, not for aerodynamics. There was a huge bridge above another large ring compartment that looked to also contain a formidable armament array, if the cannon turrets dotting the exterior were an indicator. This would be unusual for a commercial vessel, if the ship didn’t belong to the largest weapons manufacturer in existence. Coop figured it had been built as part of their sales pitch to potential clients. A practical demonstration of their firepower would be…impressive.
Although the tiny Gracilian starship was about to enter the bowls of the much larger and well-armed vessel—like Jonah into the whale—Copernicus was anxious to get inside and take look at the interior. He would also ask for a tour of the engine compartments before he left.
Copernicus had been trained as a starship mechanic long before being recruited to do undercover government work. They came to him several years ago, appealing to his patriotism—and greed. The pay was great and much more stable than the starship repair business. The government knew who his clients were and paid him well for inside information regarding ship movements, cargos and the individuals involved. His connections with various cartels, syndicates, and just plain old bad guys made him a valuable asset to government of Earth and their galactic Union. It was exciting work—more exciting than crawling around in engine compartments all day—although he still did that as part of his cover. But knowing he was also in the spy business gave him an extra boost of adrenaline and adventure. When shaving in the morning, he could often be heard talking to the mirror, saying: “Smith…Copernicus Smith,” in his best Sean Connery accent. He loved being a spy.
That being said, Copernicus was still impressed by a well-built starship. He’d spent so much time keeping barely serviceable vessels running, that to see something this new and sophisticated was almost a sexual experience. He didn’t tell Sherri that, although he suspected she already knew.
When the Gracilian ship was secure in the hold, the two Humans stepped out into the voluminous chamber, marveling at the shiny metal beams, spotless deck and perfectly stacked and secured chemical propellant containers against the bulkheads. And the crew was just as clean and impressive. Being an interstellar organization, there was no dominant species within Maris-Kliss. Although the company had been founded on the planet Maris, it had outgrown that location centuries ago. Today, one would be hard pressed to say where the headquarters was located. They had so many large operations on dozens of worlds that it was impossible to tell which was number one. And the management liked it that way. They switched locations like some people changed their underwear, mainly to keep governments and their taxing authorities chasing their tail.
Coop and Sherri quickly identified more than ten distinct Prime species in the landing bay alone. It was remarkable, because their uniforms—even when worn by creatures with a variety of body shapes—all seemed to fit together. This was a crew in the most literal sense of the word.
A steward came to escort the Humans and their stolen items to the meeting with the bigwigs from MK. A second assistant placed the DMC and the satchel with the cubes on a motorized cart and followed them to a large conference room. Two beings in stark white business suits were waiting for them. Coop’s first thought was: how do they keep the suits so clean aboard a starship? It was something to which he could not relate.
Both aliens were taller than the Humans, with one very close to Human-like in appearance, while the other had a pair of normal looking arms and hands, but two more sets of smaller appendages below. Coop had seen beings like this before, if not this particular species. The smaller arms were used for feeding and grooming. It was a good bet that the alien’s mouth was in his belly somewhere, hidden now by a flap of silky white fabric. He spoke through the second mouth found on his normal looking face.
“You are Copernicus Sminn and Sheren Ballentine?”
Sherri smiled. “It’s pronounced Copernicus Smith and Sherri Valentine.”
She was immediately taken aback when the six-armed alien flipped one of his hands at her in a dismissive fashion.
“It matters not your names. I was simply verifying identity. Are you the thieves from the station?”
“You know we are,” Sherri snapped. She didn’t like this alien very much and wasn’t afraid to show it. Coop squeezed her arm.
“Yes, we are the agents you hired,” he said. “We have acquired the device and now wish to complete our business arrangement with the very-esteemed Maris-Kliss organization.”
The two white-suited aliens took seats across a large table from the Humans. “Very well. Is this the device…and the cubes?”
Coop moved to the cart and opened the satchel. He pulled out two thin metal containers and placed them on the table. He opened both lids. Inside was another clear cover, revealing three rows of ten compartments each. All the holders in one case were filled with small gray cubes, while the other had seven missing.
The aliens recoiled slightly. “Where are the missing cubes?”
Coop shook his head. “They weren’t in there when we took the case. The Gracilians must have them aboard the station. But we do have the collector, and all sixty of those containers are full.”
He left the DMC on the cart but flipped open the outer covers on each side, showing the aliens the rows of cube containers. There were no other openings on the collector, not even a control panel. He knew from listening to the scientists that when a cube was removed, another would appear a few days later without any outside help. He closed the lids.
“Where is the rest?” two-arms asked.
Coop tensed. “What rest? This is all we have.”
“There is a screening apparatus.”
“What’s that?” Sherri asked, sharing Coop’s trepidation. If they didn’t have a complete package would they get paid?
The aliens looked at each with an amused countenance.
“The screening apparatus protects external systems from the gravitational influence of the collector and the cubes,” said two-arms. “The cases are made of the material, which keep the cubes from reacting with each other, but not from the larger effects surrounding them.” The alien attempted a thin smile. “That would be the reason you had difficulties with your engines and communication system.” He looked at his partner in white. “And that would explain the temporary loss of internal gravity we experienced as their ship was moved into the landing bay. We shall have to guard against the cubes being near the gravity drive.”
The sour look on the faces of the two Humans was priceless, if the aliens understood their expressions. They certainly seemed to grasp the sick humor of the situation.
“So, what does this mean for our contract?” Sherri asked, fearing the answer.
“It matters not. There is no change from our intended mission.”
Sherri and Copernicus were both visibly relieved. The transfer would go on as planned—
“Yet we have an issue you may not find agreeable,” said the six-armed alien.
Sherri and Coop turned pale.
The alien continued: “This ship was embarked on a mission to recover the dark matter device and the accompanying cubes without recourse. Having no contact with you beyond the initial, it was decided to take other measures to secure the device. That is our mission, not to provide credits for the effort.”
“What does that mean?” Sherri barked.
“It means they’re going to take the DMC…while leaving us out to dry,” Coop translated.
“It is a wise course of business,” said six-arms. “Maris-Kliss acquires the device and for no cost.”
“It’s only seven hundred fifty thousand credits!” Sherr
i pointed out. “Hell, your suits probably cost that much. It’s nothing to MK.”
“That is not relevant. Every credit is accounted for, and if a transaction can be completed at little or no cost, that is preferred.”
“But you’re going back on your agreement with us.” Coop said. “We did the job you hired us for. We deserve to be paid.”
“If you were a part of the Maris-Kliss organization, you would. Yet you are not. You are independent contractors, and with the break in communications, any verbal contract we may have had with you became void.”
“According to whom?” Sherri growled.
“According to Maris-Kliss,” six-arms growled back. “We are the only party that matters in this transaction. There is no need for further discussion. We will take the device and the accessories. The question now becomes what do we do with you?”
Sherri and Coop looked at each other nervously. That didn’t sound good.
“What do you mean? We haven’t done anything to you.” Sherri said.
“You are witnesses to the acquisition of the device. You know its origin and, we assume, its function.”
“We don’t know shit!” Sherri said. “The Incus and Gracilians were doing things with the DMC and the cubes, but we didn’t know what. That wasn’t why we were there.”
“You did not hear others talk?” said two-arms.
Sherri hesitated. “Nothing…honestly.”
She hoped her momentary delay in answering wouldn’t be noticed by the two impeccably dressed aliens. The truth was, while Copernicus worked on the engines at the station, Sherri had been busy hacking into computer databases aboard the station. She knew more than she was letting on, not so much about the purpose of the DMC and the cubes, but who was interested in buying them. MK wasn’t the only player in the game.
But the aliens did notice the hiccup and saw it for what it was—deception.
By means of some unseen signal, the aliens summoned others to the room. A Rigorian and another alien the Humans didn’t recognize entered, wearing chest armor and pointing two strange-looking flash weapons at them.