Open channel with Misty, Jenny’s friend. I hoped that would be enough. I couldn’t remember her last name but I was hoping my AI would be able to find a reference somewhere in my history.
“Now you show up?” Misty sounded angry and I felt like I’d entered the middle of a conversation.
I wasn’t about to get into it with her either. “Misty, I need to find Jenny. Do you know where she is?”
“You can’t keep doing this to her, you abandoned her.”
“Had my own problems, Misty. I need to find her.”
“She’s gone. She got a ride from a family trading ship and took off. I haven’t heard from her and she’s not leaving messages.”
“What ship? What family?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was it Domiva’s Grace? She mentioned that in a message she sent me.”
“I think so. You hurt her bad, Celina.” Apparently Misty wasn’t done with me.
“I know. Bad things happened. Thank you for helping her. I owe you.” I didn’t know what to say.
“She was my friend. I'd do anything for her. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find her, no matter the cost.”
“I think she’s on Puskar Stellar.”
“Why do you think that? I thought you hadn’t heard from her.”
“I haven’t, but I know that the family trader ship was eventually headed to Puskar Stellar.”
“Thanks Misty. That’s a big help.”
“I’m scared for her, Celina. She wouldn’t just stop talking to me. We’re best friends.”
“Stuff happens, Misty. I'll find her.”
“Are you coming back here?”
“Nothing there for me.”
“Take me with you.”
“Sorry. Wish I could. I gotta go.”
Calculate fastest transit to Puskar Stellar. Verify oh-two crystals and water for one person. Include twelve hour breaks for communication relay. The AI showed that I had more than enough oh-two and even though I'd have to be careful with water, I would make it.
Execute transit plan.
The ship shuddered under the acceleration of the three large engines. This ship was in pretty bad shape and the trip would be hard on it. I didn’t really care, as long as it got me closer to Jenny.
The g-force was uncomfortable while under hard burn, as the gravity in the ship had to run at 1.5 gravity. I’d been living between .4 and .6 for a long time and my body wasn't used to the stress. Sixty percent, or .6 g, was the lowest safe level for long term exposure, but try telling that to pirates. My body would have to adjust. I simply felt weary.
The ship I was sailing was a General Astral cutter and served as a multi-purpose tool for the Navy as well as large corporations. It worked well as a light cargo hauler, but wasn’t big enough to be considered a freighter. It was, however, capable of getting supplies to remote locations quickly. The ship was also great for long distance patrols. With bunk rooms empty of cargo, it could haul a crew of up to ten comfortably for a few weeks. Finally, the cutter had teeth in the form of a large slug-throwing turret that provided 360 degrees of horizontal freedom and better than 180 degrees of vertical freedom. Several different missile packages could be outfitted, depending on the mission.
Optimal capability and current status are often two very different things. The cutter was currently only able to accelerate at about 60%. The primary head, where the shower was located, didn’t work at all and the secondary head was making some bad noises. I could be in a real pinch if it stopped working over the next twelve days. If I encountered pirates, I had no idea how to operate the turret and there were no missiles attached.
The bridge was in decent shape compared to the rest of the ship. It was configured with two large pilot chairs at the front on a slightly lower level. On the upper level were two stations where support crew sat and helped with watch duties.
I chose the port side pilot’s chair. It was in the best shape of the two and as a result was also the cleanest. Space-faring ships pretty much sailed themselves when not in combat. Even then, the ship’s AI did most of the work, translating the pilot’s gestures and commands into actual adjustments to the ship’s acceleration and attitude.
I slumped into the chair and looked out into space. It was a uniquely satisfying moment. I'd finally escaped the Red Houzi pirates. The weight of dread was slowly seeping out of my body and I relaxed. If Jenny were with me, everything would have been perfect. I’d learned the hard way that control was an illusion. You had to enjoy the small moments when you got them.
I awoke in the chair, with no idea how long I’d been asleep. A trip to the secondary head reminded me that I was living on a pirate ship - a group primarily dominated by young men. That is to say, it was completely disgusting. I decided to look for cleaning supplies, although expecting to find them seemed a little ridiculous. Most of the men, or women for that matter, in Red Houzi wouldn’t know which end of a cleaning brush was the business end. Unfortunately for me, I had often been assigned the lowly task of cleaning up.
To my surprise, I located a brush and a small amount of abrasive cleaning powder. It wasn't enough to scrub the floor, but the head and sink could be attended to. For once, I'd be the only one using this room and could clean up my own mess.
I grabbed a meal ration bar. I’d grown accustomed to eating a single bar each day, which was only six hundred calories. Between my normally small size and my current emaciated form, only a few calories were required to support my body’s forty-five kilograms. I was a little concerned that I’d lost ten kilos over the last year and a half. The most dramatic change, however, was that my previously brown hair had turned a silvery white.
I resolved to eat two meal bars every day. I was too weak to do much exercise, but I had a new lease on life. I had a reason to live.
Returning to the bridge, I used my AI to look up ways to add strength that could be done in a small space. I found an endless supply of beautiful women jumping and dancing to music. I finally settled on one of the easier routines and although I couldn’t keep up, I did my best. After only a few minutes, I was exhausted. I resolved to increase movement at least twice a day. Between this and the increased gravity, I should be in better shape by the time I reached Mars.
I turned on some light Earth jazz from the early twenty first century and relaxed. It reminded me of my mom. She was into music from this era and it helped me remember her, and even Dad, from when times were better. “I’m going to find Jenny and we’ll be a family again,” I promised.
Send communication to Domiva’s Grace. Audio only.
Greetings to whoever receives this on Domiva’s Grace. I’m Celina Dontal. I recently received information that my sister Jennifer Dontal booked passage from Terrence to Puskar Stellar sometime around 498.02.01. I’m unable to contact Jenny and was hoping you would reply with information about her passage. I’m her legal guardian and am simply trying to locate or contact her.
It was a long shot. They might balk at replying, as legally, they shouldn’t have transported a minor without consent of her legal guardian. I might have been declared unfit or dead or something, but I didn’t think it would hurt to use a little leverage.
I waited up for the next communication relay, hoping for word from Domiva’s Grace. Under normal circumstances they should have received my message within an hour if they were on Earth, Mars, or even any of the mining colonies in the main belt between Mars and Jupiter.
Sleep came easily again that night, even though I had some anticipation about receiving a message back from Domiva’s Grace. I awoke refreshed in the port-side pilot’s chair. I was interested in working on my routine, which would be focused on finding Jenny and rebuilding my body. The Red Houzi had taken too much from me and I would get it back.
I found an AI search service to scour public records, looking for information on Jennifer Dontal, aged sixteen. It would cost more than I had in the account Jenny and I shared, but once I
’d seen the account hadn’t had any activity over the last two months, I didn’t care. It’d been nearly emptied with one big transfer to Domiva’s Grace. I wondered again why they hadn’t gotten back to me.
It was frustrating. I had goods worth, hopefully, a small fortune, but no ability to sell them. I decided to do what I could - become acquainted with what I had in my possession. I needed to know exactly what I had so when the time came, I could research prices and know which items would sell quickly. I’d learned the hard way that not knowing the value of something was a sure way to get cheated.
I emptied one of the bunk rooms of all the debris left behind by the pirates. It was still dirty, but at least it lacked junk. Eight large cases of loot from the Red Houzi base took me the better part of three days to final inventory, arrange similar items, and repack. Each case was about a meter wide and tall and about a meter and a half long. The box I felt had the most promise held stacks of gold and silver coins and assorted jewelry. It might be tricky selling some of the larger pieces of jewelry, since they were likely registered as stolen. One bridge at a time.
On the fourth day, while I was working on valuing some of the smaller art pieces in case number four, I heard a chirp from my AI. Initially it startled me, not having received messages for so many months. My heart leapt with the possibility of a message from Jenny.
Play message.
A shiver ran up my spine as I heard Alexander Boyarov’s voice.
Dontal, you crazy bitch. You better be looking over your shoulder because I’m coming for you. The Captain blames you for the raid on the base and is sending me after you. I had a little chat with Magee and I’m afraid the old gal isn’t going to make it. I didn’t know you had a little sister so I did a little checking around and I know right where she is. She sounds like a sweet little thing, I can’t wait to break her in. Don’t worry, I’ll record it for you. Why don’t you turn that ship around and meet me back here at Terrence. I can’t promise I’ll take it easy on you, but maybe I’ll forget about your little sister.
I should have expected the message, but I'd pushed him out of my mind. The Captain he was referring to was someone I'd never met, but I knew he was higher up in the Red Houzi hierarchy. Boyarov could be bluffing, but I had no doubt that if he and I met again it wouldn’t go well for me.
It was even more urgent than before that I find Jenny.
TRIP TO MARS
After five days of sailing toward Puskar Stellar on Mars, I finally heard from Domiva’s Grace. The message was short and to the point. They’d never transported anyone by the name of Jennifer Dontal, period. If I had any further questions, I was to contact their legal counsel on Earth. It was a terrible letdown. It was odd that they referred me to their legal counsel, however. I hadn’t pushed that hard. It felt like they were hiding something, although that could just be wishful thinking on my part. I was currently in no position to push the issue.
Life aboard the ship became routine after that. I continued to exercise and pushed myself to eat twice a day. I’d put on at least three kilos and my cheeks had lost some of their hollow look. My hair wasn’t as thin as it had been at the start of the journey, but the silver color appeared to be permanent. I was happy to see the muscles in my legs and arms filling out, though I was still very thin. It would take time.
On day six, the ship broke from hard burn, spun a graceful 180 degrees on its vertical axis, and fired the engines back up. One of the disadvantages of this ship’s design was that slowing down required the ship to be pointed away from its eventual destination. I would have enjoyed watching Mars grow through the armor glass, but it wasn’t possible. Part of my HUD showed the approach, but I felt a little cheated.
For the first time in my life I saw multiple ships within range of my own. At first, I worried that Alexander Boyarov had arrived before me or that some other Red Houzi ship was on to me. But they all kept to their original courses and sailed by.
When I was three hundred thousand kilometers from Mars, my ship flipped over again and the deceleration dropped off considerably. The planet was breathtaking with its purplish glow. Large numbers of ships of all sizes were approaching and leaving from all points around its perimeter. Mars was the biggest object in space I’d ever seen.
The ship I was in was probably unregistered and possibly even listed as stolen. Fearing Red Houzi's reach, I needed to be careful. It would eventually need to be abandoned, but first I planned to land at Puskar Stellar. It was the main trading hub on Mars and there was no registration requirement for ships.
Negotiate with Puskar Stellar and find a landing site that doesn’t require upfront fees.
I wasn’t holding a reading pad so my AI used the sound system on the bridge to communicate.
There are five landing sites that do not require upfront fees. Three require bond and proof of ownership.
My AI had anticipated a problem I hadn’t considered. I picked up a reading pad.
Show remaining two.
My pad showed a top view map of Puskar Stellar. The city was huge, fifteen kilometers on one side and twenty-three on the other. Glowing outlines indicated the two public landing sites. Both were located on the edge of a part of town called the Open Air District. I was thrilled. That was our original destination when Jenny and I planned to come here in the first place.
The Open Air District was known throughout the solar system as a place where free trade took place. It had no taxation system beyond that which was paid to rent real estate. Goods and services weren't taxed by the Mars Protectorate or even by Puskar Stellar. If you couldn’t buy it here then it probably didn’t exist.
Negotiate landing permission on Budget Park #1.
I had no idea which lot might be better, but ultimately I didn’t expect to keep the ship. Red Houzi would find it - and me - soon enough.
My pad showed a confirmation of permission.
Plot course to land at Budget Park #1.
My AI returned a positive chirp letting me know it had heard, understood, and would act accordingly.
Mars continued to grow in my vision as I approached. It seemed impossibly large. I’d never been so close to an actual planet and the scale was incredible.
Turret lockdown permission required.
I expected this. Many space stations required turrets be locked down and Puskar Stellar was no different.
Accept.
I would land by 1800 universal which translated to 0200 local time for Puskar Stellar. In space, everyone worked with universal time, but the planets used local time to help line up with when the Sun would shine on the surface. It was a weird concept to me. Out on mining colonies, the sun was a nice reference point, but it had nothing to do with the time of day. The good news was the Martian day was still about twenty-four hours, so once I lined my sleep pattern up with local time, I wouldn’t have to adjust to a different day length.
Puskar Stellar was in a night cycle, so activity should have been at a minimum, but the number of ships landing and taking off was incredible. There were thousands and thousands of ships of all sizes going in all different directions. You couldn’t have convinced me to take the stick and fly manually, I wouldn’t have the first idea how to navigate. How these ships weren’t hitting each other was beyond me.
The lights of Puskar Stellar were beautiful and numerous. They spread out for hundreds of kilometers in all directions. As the ship approached the landing site, I could make out buildings and colorful tent tops.
PUSKAR STELLAR
At the bottom of my ship's ramp, a chubby little man dressed in a poorly fitting pair of jeans that weren't up to the task of covering his belly, met me. Without suspenders, his pants would never have been able to stay up. I hoped the stains on his white sleeveless shirt were just grease, but I didn’t know for certain.
My face-shield was up, as was common practice when exiting a ship. It wasn’t until I noticed he wasn’t wearing a vac-suit at all that it occurred to me we were standing in a pressurized
environment. Strike that. Mars wasn’t just pressurized, it had an oxygen-nitrogen mixture over its entire surface, as did Earth. It was just weird. It took some effort for me to lower the face-shield and allow my helmet to fall back between my shoulder blades.
Having had no access to a suit cleaner or a shower for what felt like decades, I would never have bet against myself for “worst smell,” but I think this little guy could actually give me a run for my money.
The man’s stare was unabashed as he looked me up and down, his eyes coming to rest somewhere below my chin. I took a little pride in this because, twelve days ago, I doubt even this man would have thought I was much to look at.
“It’s two hundred a day, starting today, no matter how much of a day you use. Clamps are already locked so there’s no getting out of it. How many days you planning on being here, darling?” His voice was low and raspy, like he had swallowed sand.
“At least a week,” I answered.
“I couldn’t help but notice your ship’s not registered.” He finally raised his eyes to look at my face.
Damn. That was the point of landing here, supposedly they didn’t check.
“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked, pouting my lips.
“I suspect we can work something out,” he answered, his gravelly voice conveying the lust he clearly felt.
I placed my hand under his chin and stroked it lightly. “Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” I punctuated by tapping my index finger on his nose. It never ceased to amaze me how disgusting little men would believe that someone might be interested in them. I gave him a smile that communicated amusement at his advance.
“Is there anywhere a girl could get a shower?” I asked, changing subjects.
A broad grin spread across his face. “I bet we have something for that. Name's Benny. You need anything around here, you ask for me. Got it?”
Fool Me Once (Privateer Tales) Page 2