by T. R. Harris
“Have a nice trip, honey,” Copernicus offered.
Her reply was not fit for publication.
“We can only afford a maximum of five thousand credits in repair costs,” Adam explained to a frustrated Copernicus Smith.
“It’s a transfer circuit,” Coop reported. “It’s not that big of a fix, but it will require the starboard generator to be removed. I couldn’t do that while we were in space.”
“Do you have the parts aboard to fix it?”
Copernicus hesitated.
“And how much do they cost?” Adam asked, shaking his head.
“They’re pretty expensive new, but I can shuttle over to the Solic-Min moon and see what I can find in the scrapyard there.”
“How long will that take?”
“It depends on if I can find the part.”
Adam banged his fist against the rusted and dented hull of the Flying Tiger, as the bulky old corvette sat in the Colony Ship’s only activated landing bay. “Dammit, Coop. Jym says you’ve already sank twenty-one thousand credits into the ship. And after mission expenses and repairs, your second recovery team is actually costing us money.”
“What do you want us to do, leave?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But at some point you’re going to have to cut bait.”
“And then what do we do for a second team. All four of us can’t go out on a hunt, that would be incredibly inefficient. And trading off missions would be a waste of time and personnel.”
“If the Formilian loan comes through, we’ll just have to buy another ship. Isn’t there something else we could get that won’t keep breaking down?”
“That we won’t know until it happens,” Coop countered. “Give me one more crack at the Tiger.”
Adam looked at the old starship then at Copernicus. “I’ve already budgeted for the five-kay. Make it happen, and preferably underbudget. But if she breaks down again, that’s it.”
“Understood,” Coop said with enthusiasm. “Now, let me get to work. Grace and I can get the generator out in about a day, day-and-a-half. Then we’ll take the shuttle out looking for parts.”
“Just make it happen. I don’t care how you do it, just so you don’t spend all our money in the process.”
The Colony Ship had once been home to twenty thousand Klin, providing all their needs for a multi-generational existence in space. Now a total of six beings lived aboard the station. As a consequence, only a tiny fraction of the huge sphere was energized to save money, forcing the occupants to cluster within a small section near the bridge. The rest of the station was frigid and uninhabitable, except for a single corridor leading to one of the smaller launch bays, as well as an elevator shaft to a nearby power station.
Adam’s alien friends, Kaylor and Jym, maintained the huge space station and operated the computer system the team used to locate their fugitives. The four Humans were the muscle of the operation and were gone most of the time. More often than not, however, the missions were more successful than the last two. But even then, after returning to the ship a year ago from their brief hiatus to Earth, money was still the issue. Money was always the issue.
“That bastard, Tidus,” Kaylor said. He had never met the Juirean, but he’d heard of him plenty of times. Adam grinned at hearing the word bastard come from the Belsonian’s mouth. After twenty years of hanging out with Adam and the other Humans, he’d adopted many of their finer swear words. The small bear-like Jym was still slow to pick up on Human slang, but he was getting there. Another twenty years or so and he might be using bastard in everyday language as well.
“We were in desperate need of that commission,” Jym acknowledged. “And the Juirean was not. He did what he did simply based on his hatred of you, Adam Cain.”
Adam shrugged. If the roles had been reversed, he probably would have done the same to Tidus. There was no love lost between the Humans and the Juireans, and although they were technically at peace at the time, neither race considered the other to be friends or allies, not by any stretch of the imagination. And even though Tidus had broken away from his people and become a l’pisor—one who turns his back on his race—Adam would have still harbored considerable distrust for the Juirean, even if he hadn’t screwed them over on several occasions.
“We’re just going to have to make it up,” Adam said to Jym. “Any prospects working?”
“We located three more potentials while you were gone. Unfortunately, they are very far away. However, if you could combine the missions, then they could be profitable, somewhat. But that would involve exquisite timing and perfect execution. You are not known for either.”
Adam recoiled, while a brilliant white smile painted Riyad’s face. Jym wasn’t trying to be rude—it was just his way. He normally spoke his mind with little concern—or awareness—of how others would react. Adam took no offense, especially since the statement was true.
“We may not have a choice,” he said. “Sherri won’t be back for a week in the Davion. That will give Coop and Grace time to either fix the Flying Tiger…or scrap it. We’ll decide at that time, if something better doesn’t come along.”
A chime beeped on a monitor in the cozy common room. There were literally hundreds of other lounges in the CS, but they were dark and cold. This was the only one that had heat and electricity.
Jym went and checked the monitor.
“A ship approaches within our safety zone,” he announced. “It is the royal Formilian yacht.”
Adam perked up. This would be Arieel coming to visit.
Arieel Bol was the Speaker of the Formilian People, the titular head of the planet Formil, and the latest in a long line of matriarchs who had ruled the world for over two thousand years. Although her status had been diminished somewhat, there was a renaissance taking place within the society, after control of the Expansion was returned to the Juireans a few years back. It seemed the native population was desperate to rediscover the traditions of the past, since their flirtation with galactic domination hadn’t amounted to more than a temporary flash in the pan. Things had been different when the Formilian mutant Lila was in charge. But she was gone now, and things were changing again.
Jym deactivated the ship’s automatic defenses and allowed the yacht to dock. With the type of business the team was in, there was always someone pissed off at what they’d done. Defense of the station was a necessary expense that couldn’t be avoided. As a consequence, Jym rigged the station so that during a crisis all power would shift automatically to the defensive systems. Of course, that would leave the ship without life support and other essentials, but there would be enough air and heat left for the crew to evaluate the threat and make decisions. So far, Jym’s precautions hadn’t been tested to their fullest.
Adam took an electric cart to the landing bay to meet the Formilian.
For his part, Copernicus was both upset and excited with the prospect of Arieel’s arrival. He was upset because he had to break off from the repair work on the Flying Tiger while the yacht entered the landing bay. Yet he was excited when the ravishing, dark-haired Formilian beauty stepped out onto the deck, taking his breath away. Arieel had that effect on most Prime males within the galaxy, no matter their species; that was what her appearance and pheromones had been genetically engineered to do by the ancient Aris. Coop didn’t care if he was reacting to simple mindless programming or not. She still turned him on.
Adam showed up a minute later to rescue his on-again, off-again girlfriend from the attentions of the dashing mechanic/spy. By then, Coop had Arieel wrapped in a powerful bear hug, welcoming her to the ship. She’d been on the CS twenty days before, but Copernicus would use any excuse to get close to the sensual alien. Especially now.
“Is Sherri not aboard?” Arieel asked perceptively. Coop would only act this way if his current girlfriend wasn’t around.
“She’s gone off to Hydra-3…why do you ask?”
Adam stepped up to the pair.
“All right, b
uddy, give it a break,” he said. “It’s not like you two haven’t seen each other in a while.”
Arieel broke away from Coop and threw her arms around Adam’s neck while laying a long, passionate kiss on his lips. It was a not-so-subtle message to Copernicus, who was not deterred. It was always like this between the two Alpha Males.
It was a ten-minute ride by electric cart to the habitable zone of the station.
“I have good news…and bad news,” Arieel began as she and Adam made their way down the long, chilly corridor.
“I could use some good news, so let’s start with that.”
“I was able to get the occupation fee waived for your presence here in the system. It was an illegal act to begin with, and one passed only for spite.”
Adam thanked her. A couple of years ago, the Council on Formil had passed an ordinance charging Adam with what was essentially rent for parking the Colony Ship in orbit around the planet Andus. No other vessel had ever been charged this fee, even those permanently occupied as floating homesteads, of which there were hundreds at any given time throughout the system. It had been a naked ploy to force him to move the Colony Ship. When Jym took the CS to the Gracilian research station to rescue Adam, Riyad and Copernicus, there had been talk of taking the ship to Earth afterwards. But Kaylor and Jym fought against the idea, arguing that it would place them a long way from the center of the galactic bounty-hunting business. Adam reluctantly agreed. Although he longed to return to Earth permanently, he also needed to keep his options open in case things didn’t work out on the homeworld.
As it turned out, things didn’t go well on Earth, and eventually all the money they’d made off the Gracilian Dark Matter Affair was eaten up, either from fines, penalties or back taxes—or in the case of Sherri and Copernicus—sunk into a forty-year-old starship they could barely keep running. It turned out returning the Colony Ship in the Formilian system had been a wise decision. It would have been impossible to run the fugitive recovery business from the Solar System. It was too far away from anything.
“And the bad news?” Adam coaxed.
“The Central Bank has denied your loan request.”
Adam grimaced, although he’d been expecting this. So much for buying Coop a new starship….
He couldn’t blame the bankers; he had neither collateral—not even the Colony Ship—nor a stable income. After first taking possession of the derelict space station, he tried to sell it for some quick cash. But the vessel was technically Klin property, and since there were no Klin left to transfer title, no one wanted to take the risk. For all intents and purposes, Adam and the team were squatters aboard the huge starship, with no legal right to be there. As a result, no one was willing to either buy the ship or loan him money against it.
Hell, it was worth a try. And Arieel had done all she could from her position as head of the Formilian government to make it happen. But she also had to be careful. She couldn’t appear to play favorites, especially for aliens.
Everyone in the Expansion knew about her and Adam. After all, it was their seemingly impossible union that had produced their daughter Lila, the so-called Apex Being, a mutant of such incredible power that she once ruled the galaxy for a brief time. That was when the Formilians got their one and only taste of what it was like to be a true superpower. But with Lila now gone away somewhere with her paramour Panur, the planet no longer had a hold on the politics of the galaxy. The Juireans made a petition requesting that authority over the Expansion be returned to them, and the member worlds agreed. This sort of thing was happening all across the galactic plane, a longing for a simpler, more familiar past. Since then, Formil had returned to its former status as the premier maker of electronic controllers. The planet was still a major player in the affairs of the Milky Way, although the natives were no longer the Boss.
Secretly, Arieel was glad for a return to the old traditions. Her family had ruled the planet for two thousand years, and old habits die hard. When it was revealed that her so-called divine powers were not the work of the Gods—but rather the result of an electronic device implanted under her skin—most of the mystique of the Speakers was lost. But now the people were beginning to look the other way at the deception, saying it must have been divine inspiration that created the devices in the first place. For most of the population, that was good enough to place Arieel back on the throne. It also gave her an opportunity to help Adam whenever she could.
“I have brought twenty-five thousand credits with me, along with two fuel pods,” she said as the cart came to a stop outside the common room. “I know it is not much, but it is all I can afford at this time.”
“It’s more than you should do, Arieel,” Adam said sincerely. The truth be told, the fuel pods had more value at the moment than the credits. With them, Adam and his team could expand their acquisition grid farther into the galaxy. They could now go after the three bounties Jym had mentioned earlier. “Thank you.”
Riyad, Jym and Kaylor greeted Arieel warmly as she and Adam entered the common room.
“She brought us credits and fuel pods,” Adam announced to the team.
“Just what a starving bounty-hunting business needs,” Riyad said with a wide, bright smile.
Sincere thanks only made Adam more depressed. Existing off the charity of others was getting old…and humiliating.
As compensation, Adam splurged with the food processor, ordering up a decent banquet for the team and their honored guest. Copernicus cleaned up and joined them for the meal. As they ate, Adam and Riyad related in more detail the events on Fortis and how close they’d come to scoring a respectable bounty.
“Yet, it appears as though this Lo’ol creature intended on taking you prisoner,” said Arieel, a frown on her gorgeous, bronze-skinned face. “There was a chance you may not have recovered the fugitive and hence the fee.”
She had a point, Adam conceded, yet he and Riyad simply shrugged.
“It was still early in the game,” Riyad said. “We still had a lot of tricks up our sleeves.”
Arieel blinked several times at the obscure Human reference. She let it go after a moment. “Even so, you now have a mystery. He mentioned the mutants, which would include Lila. What was he referring to?”
Adam shook his head just as another chime sounded on the monitor.
Everyone in the room frowned, annoyed by yet another infringement of the safety zone surrounding the Colony Ship. Arieel was already aboard, and Sherri wasn’t due back for several days. This was something new.
“Transponder shows a Bidon-class long-range luxury vessel,” Jym reported from the monitor. “They have opened a comm link, requesting connection.”
“Link it here,” Adam ordered.
He was shocked by the image on the screen.
“I can tell by your expressions, you are surprised to see me,” said the Juirean bounty hunter, Tidus Ne Landon. He wore a bemused smile on his dark, narrow face.
“What the hell do you want?” Adam demanded. “I should warn you; this station has some badass defenses.”
“I know that, my friend,” said the alien. “But I come here not as an enemy, but as a prospective client. I seek your assistance in a matter of mutual benefit. May I approach for a conference?”
Adam surveyed the faces of his friends. Kaylor and Jym were terrified, as they were when anything Juirean was involved. The Humans and Arieel looked curious, if not angry.
“Why not?” Adam said. “We’ll light up a landing bay. Follow the beacon. By the way, your ship will fit easily in one of our hangars.” Adam had to boast about the size of the station; after all it was the largest artificial structure in space. And although he didn’t have title to it, possession was still nine-tenths of the law. Especially when you had weapons to back up your claim.
89
Adam didn’t let the Juirean into their inner sanctum. Instead he heated up a small conference room midway between the docking bay and the bridge. There was no need to show the alien how little
of the Colony Ship he could afford to run.
Kaylor and Jym chose not to attend the meeting, but they would monitor it from the bridge, with a potent nerve gas ready to flood the room if things got out of hand. It would knock out everyone—including the Juirean—if it came to that.
Tidus was dressed in anything but traditional Juirean clothing. He’d long ago discarded the flowing capes and bulbous mane of light blue hair for more conventional clothing. He wore the two-piece military-style uniform of Priority Acquisitions and his hair was pulled back into a long, blue ponytail. He was still around seven feet tall but didn’t use the great mane of hair to add an additional foot to his stature, as did other Juireans. Yet he still conveyed the air of superiority bred into a race of beings who had ruled the galaxy for four thousand years. This cocky attitude was instinctive by now.
“I know my presence here is upsetting,” Tidus began as Adam, Riyad, Copernicus and Arieel glared at the alien. Arieel insisted on being present, since she suspected the subject of her daughter would come up. “For that reason, I will get right to the point.” The Juirean grinned. “During his time in my possession, our mutual friend—Lo’ol—revealed some rather startling information to me, information that impressed me to such a point that I set him free.”
Riyad shook his head. “Wait a minute,” he growled. “First you take him from us, and then you set him free? Thanks a lot.”
“You are quite welcome, my friend. But the tiny reward you would have gained from Lo’ol’s capture will pale in comparison to what I have to tell you.”
Adam’s curiosity was piqued. This had to have something to do with the mutants, as well as the Z’inif’s claim that Adam’s capture would make him rich. There was money in the equation somewhere, so of course Adam was interested.
Tidus took the silence as an invitation to continue.
“Lo’ol was referring to a rather substantial fee he was offered to acquire you, Adam Cain. But that was for only the first step. After your capture, you were to be used to lure the mutants, Panur and Lila, to your rescue. They are the ultimate objective of Lo’ol’s sponsors, not you.”