Suicide Run

by Nathan Lowell

  “But you’re—I mean—Usoko Mining.” He all but swallowed his tongue.

  Zoya sighed and glanced at Natalya.

  “Brian. Over here,” Natalya said, snapping her fingers in the air between them. “What do we need to do to get out to the yard?”

  Dorion shook his head and looked Natalya in the eye. “Sorry. They’ll have it out of the construction dock tomorrow around 1300. I can get clearance for you the day after. Take a company shuttle or the Peregrine. Whichever suits you.”

  “We’ll take the Peregrine,” Natalya said. “I need to get the ’fresher fixed in my stateroom but if we decide to hang around, it’ll be easier to have a place to sleep.”

  Dorion nodded. “I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”

  “Who do I see about repairs?” Natalya asked.

  “I’ll send the dock master down. She’ll line it up for you.”

  “Thanks,” Natalya said.

  Dorion nodded and beat what could only be described as a hasty exit.

  Natalya followed him, making sure the lock was buttoned down after he left.

  “Anything about that strike you as odd, Nats?” Zoya asked.

  “Timing on the new ship seems like it was farther along than he said.”

  “He didn’t know my connection with Usoko Mining.”

  Natalya felt her brain hiccup and she considered Zoya’s observation. “For a guy who works in the network that keeps all that loose data piled up neatly, you’d think that wouldn’t have come as a surprise, wouldn’t you?”

  “I certainly would,” Zoya said. “Either he never looked or they never told him.”

  “Or he doesn’t actually work for them,” Natalya said.

  “Given what we’ve seen and done over the last month, you think that’s likely?”

  Natalya shrugged. “Right hand, left hand. Central office might see it as beneath them to talk to the peons.”

  “Everything you’ve told me about Toe-Hold space implies that High Tortuga knows everything because they run the banks and communications,” Zoya said.

  “Yeah. That’s my understanding, but Dorion as much as said the communications network is separated from the banking data. Arm’s length and all that. Probably includes personal information.”

  “I’d like to see what Dorion’s file on me says.”

  “Why?” Natalya asked.

  “It wasn’t too long ago we were chased off Port Newmar because we were murderers.”

  “Well, technically, I was the murderer and you were accessory after the fact, but we’ve suspected that was bogus for a long time now.”

  “That’s my point. What else isn’t on our records? Or what’s there instead of what should be?” Zoya asked.

  “Only one entity can do that, realistically,” Natalya said.

  “High Tortuga.”

  “Yeah. You think we can just sail over tomorrow and ask them?”

  Zoya shook her head. “No, but I think we might be able to look up our own records to see what they say on the public side of the net.”

  Natalya took a few heartbeats to process that thought but nodded. “Yeah. There should be a record we can look at. Maybe we should just ask Dorion what he has?”

  “You don’t think he came to hire us just because of the Peregrine, do you?”

  “Without even a background check? He’s going to turn over all the company secrets to a couple of women who happen to fly an antique?”

  Zoya frowned. “When you put it that way, sounds far-fetched. What company secrets do we have?”

  “Well, for starters we know where at least some of their data buoys are hidden. We know the communications protocols for slurping the data off them.”

  “Actually, we don’t,” Zoya said. “The upgraded comms array they installed has a sealed encryption module in it. I have no idea how it communicates with the buoy. Only that it does.”

  “Has to be more to it than that. Otherwise we could just sail back to Port Newmar and sell the module to the highest bidder.”

  “That seems like a sloppy way to run a secure Annex-wide communications system. Every one of those other ships has the same array with the same encryption,” Zoya said. “I don’t know if we’d even need to dismount it. Just push the output into a spectrum analyzer and see what comes out.”

  “The whole operation seems a bit sloppy,” Natalya said.

  The lock-call buzzed. Natalya went to the lock to find a woman in a company jumpsuit waiting just outside.

  Natalya popped the lock and stuck her head out. “Yes?”

  “I’m Michelle Cecil. Brian said you had a problem with the ship?”

  “The dock master?” Natalya asked.

  “Yup. That’s me.”

  Natalya stuck out her hand. “Natalya Regyri. Nice to meet you. Come aboard and I’ll show you the problem.”

  Cecil shook her hand then followed Natalya onto the ship and into her stateroom. “The ’fresher stopped working. I can tear down and rebuild a Burleson drive, but I’ve never been trained on that.” She nudged the unit with her toe.

  Cecil grinned at her. “That’s got to be original with the ship.”

  “Probably,” Natalya said.

  “I got a guy who might be able to fix it,” Cecil said. “You’ll be left with a working antique. Maybe.”

  “Choices?”

  “We can pull that out and give you a new one. Probably use less power and be quieter.” She looked at the unit. “We’ve learned a bit about this technology in the last two centuries. That the only one aboard?”

  “Two. One in each stateroom.”

  Cecil nodded. “Makes sense. You want to replace them both. Same charge.”

  “How much is that?” Natalya asked.

  “Free to you. Company dime.”

  “Generous,” Zoya said, sticking her head in through the door.

  “Michelle Cecile, Zoya Usoko. Zoya, Michelle is the dock master.”

  “Figured,” Zoya said. “Why does the company care about keeping this antique flying?”

  Cecil shrugged. “New kids always get the velvet glove treatment. This ship? I’m guessing you’ve done a lot of upgrades so it’s not actually a stock issue Scout ship, right?”

  Natalya nodded. “My parents had to do a lot of work on it just to make it spaceworthy. At least that’s what they told me.”

  “So, upgrading this unit won’t be a problem.” She looked back and forth between Natalya and Zoya. “But even in refurbished condition, this baby is worth more credits than I’ll ever see. Probably total in my life.”

  “What’s that got to do with the company keeping it flying?”

  “It’s to keep you two happy, I suspect. They go out of their way for the new hires. Scuttlebutt says the turnover among courier crews is a monster. This is the first actual Scout I’ve seen come in, so that gives you a little extra cachet.”

  “Why do so many quit?” Zoya asked.

  “Beats me. I’m never in the loop on that stuff. Ships come. Ships go. Few stay for more than a quick refit.” She smiled at Natalya. “Or replacement, as the case may be.”

  “You heard the company has sent out RFPs for some new restaurants?” Natalya asked.

  “About damn time,” Cecil said. “I like Frosty’s well enough but having a little competition for business around here could only help.”

  “You been here long?” Zoya asked.

  “Coming up on my tenth anniversary. We’ve come a long way from the old comms tower in that time, let me tell you.”

  “Really?” Natalya said. “Let’s get these replacements ordered and I’ll buy you a beer.”

  “Coffee while I’m on duty, but I’d like that.”

  “I’ll get it going,” Zoya said, ducking out and heading for the galley.

  Cecil pulled her tablet and flashed the ident tab on the ’fresher. “Lemme check the inventory and see what we got.”

  She flipped screens a couple of times, frowning.

  “Probl
em?” Natalya asked.

  “Not really. It may take us a while. I can’t upgrade this after all. The replacements all call for more power than this unit uses.”

  “Which means we’d have to rewire the ship?”

  Cecil nodded. “At least this piece.”

  “So?”

  “So we need to fab one. I’m just checking to make sure we have all the models.” She flipped a few more screens and her eyebrows rose. “Yeah. Looks like we’ve got all the models for the entire ship.”

  “You could make a new Scout?” Natalya asked.

  “Apparently. Some of the stock is obsolete and I suspect we would want to upgrade some of these old units. The original consoles are Model 2s.”

  “You mean Mark 2s?”

  “Nope,” she said. “Model 2s. They didn’t go to the Mark nomenclature until 2250. These are old, old models. I don’t even know why we have them.”

  She poked the screen a couple of times and holstered her tablet. “Work orders filed. Now, coffee?”

  Natalya grinned and led the way to the galley where Zoya had the coffee maker already gurgling away. The aroma of fresh coffee masked the scents of cleaning solutions and polish.

  “This is a cool little ship,” Cecil said. “But two of you in here for three weeks? You must be close.”

  “We were roommates at the academy,” Zoya said. “After that, this isn’t bad. We’ve each got a separate stateroom. The food’s plentiful and the coffee’s easy.”

  “I heard you weren’t too happy after your first run,” Cecil said.

  “We don’t like being lied to.” Natalya pulled a covered mug from the cabinet and filled it. “It’s one thing to live here for three weeks. It’s another to do it while under time pressure and flying all over the ass ends of the Annex.” She handed the mug to Cecil and started filling another.

  “Lied to?”

  “Let’s just say, we were told we had a normal run. Something one of the Eights would normally cover,” Zoya said.

  “Technically, that was true.” Natalya handed the mug to Zoya. “What they didn’t tell us is that we covered the runs of five or six different Eights.”

  Zoya took a sip of her coffee. “We did it, but the stress of being in a new job, running a time-critical route, and trying to maintain that over three weeks made us a bit grumpy. It sorta boiled over when we got back and found out the truth.”

  Cecil took a sip of her coffee and smiled. “This is good. Private stock?”

  “Last of our arabasti from Dark Knight Station. I still don’t know where Kondur gets it,” Natalya said.

  “We need to find a new supply soon or we’ll have to fly back to Dark Knight,” Zoya said with a grin.

  “You were going to tell us about the station,” Natalya said.

  Cecil propped her back in a corner and nodded. “When I got here, they’d just started construction on the expansion. This dock, the new permanent party wing, the pilots’ wing. All new in the last ten stanyers.”

  “What did they have before?” Zoya asked.

  “The main comms tower—that’s the tall spire in the center of the station—that had a tiny facility around the middle. Basically room for the comms equipment and support staff.”

  “Ships didn’t dock?” Natalya asked.

  “It had three or four bays that could take a single ship each with a ten-meter docking ring and enough small craft dock for a half dozen shuttles. That was it.”

  Zoya frowned. “So all this is new?”

  “New being a relative term, yeah,” Cecil said taking another sip of the coffee. “I came on as dock maintenance crew just as they were finishing up the expansion.”

  “Why did they do it?” Natalya asked.

  “The expansion?” Cecil shrugged. “Above my pay grade. They’ve been dubbing around trying to get the couriers to use the station as a base but I don’t think we’ve ever had more than four ships here at a time.”

  Zoya snorted. “Chicken-egg problem.”

  “How’s that?” Cecil asked.

  “Nobody wants to dock here and be alone. So you need ships docking here regularly to have enough people to make it worthwhile.”

  Cecil nodded. “But without the people, it’s not attractive enough.”

  Zoya shrugged. “Without the customers, there was no reason to expand the entertainment options. Without the entertainment options, that’s one less reason to dock.”

  Cecil sipped her coffee. “Makes sense.”

  “My question is why didn’t they realize this?” Natalya said. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

  Cecil grinned. “The company rotated all the old staff out about the time they were building this up. The old guard wasn’t happy with the upgrades. Rumor is they thought the building plan was unnecessary and expensive.” She shrugged. “They may have been right. It’s taken them almost all this time to finish.”

  “What? Ten stanyers?” Natalya asked.

  “They only finished the pilots’ wing about a stanyer ago. The dock didn’t have bulkhead panels until about three stanyers ago. The apartment I got when I came aboard was basically a four-person dorm with a head and galley. Took them five stanyers to have enough space that we could all have our own rooms. Another two to get apartments.”

  “That seems excessive,” Zoya said.

  “Materials. The belts here in Ravaine got picked over early. Most of what’s left isn’t worth mining. They pulled miners in from all over and worked the other systems in the local group, but that meant delays while they ramped up production. They bought some finished materials to start the construction but relied on local production to finish it. It took a while, but I have to give them credit. They’ve created an amazing facility here.”

  “That nobody’s using,” Natalya said.

  Cecil shrugged. “If they get some new restaurants and watering holes opening up, that will help. I think the reason they started the new shipbuilding program was so the company would own the ships and could dictate where they dock between routes.”

  “Might be cheaper, too,” Zoya said. “Hiring one pilot is cheaper than hiring crews.”

  “They don’t hire crews,” Cecil said. “They charter the ships.”

  Zoya’s eyebrows shot up. “They hired us.”

  Cecil blinked a couple of times. “They didn’t charter the ship?”

  “They didn’t actually mention the ship,” Natalya said. They just waved credits at each of us to come and fly for them.”

  Cecil’s eyes narrowed. “Lemme guess. They’re trying to get you to take over new ships?”

  Natalya nodded. “We had some words about making us fly for three weeks before getting down time. They want us to check out the new couriers.”

  “We’ve been chewing on Dorion’s ear over the doctrine. He thinks he can send a solo pilot out in one of those cans for three weeks at a time,” Zoya said.

  Cecil nodded. “That won’t work, will it? When will they sleep?”

  “The solitary confinement will drive most people over the edge within a week. I couldn’t have lasted three weeks out there under those conditions without Zoya,” Natalya said. “I think we pushed the limits on what the ship could do as well.”

  “Is he listening?” Cecil asked.

  “We think so,” Zoya said.

  “My question would be whether or not he has enough standing with the board,” Cecil said. “Some of the things they’ve passed down to me as dock master have been just dumb.”

  “Like what?” Natalya asked.

  “Like turning off the lighting on the dock when there are no ships here.”

  “Why’s that a problem?” Natalya asked.

  “Because it’s the main passageway between the various sections of the station and we have to do maintenance on the docks all the time. We can turn them off for a few stans during the night cycle but that’s not going to add up to much in the way of cost savings. Even over a century.”

  “I can’t imagine the lights u
se that much power,” Natalya said.

  “It’s rounding-error level in the budget,” Cecil said. “We spend more on deck cleaner than lighting.”

  “So who’s Dorion’s boss?” Zoya asked.

  “Malachai Vagrant. He’s the associate director for Communications Operations and reports to the board.”

  “Who’s Joe Allen?” Zoya asked.

  Cecil’s eyes widened. “Allen is CEO of HTHC—the High Tortuga Holding Company. Why?”

  “He and Brian interviewed us back on Dark Knight,” Zoya said.

  “Well, you must have made a good impression,” Cecil said.

  Natalya glanced at Zoya. “I’m not so sure. Maybe they just thought we’d be an easy pair to dupe into carrying the water on this new operation.”

  Zoya shrugged. “So which is better? Running that route for three weeks out of four or helping to shape the new protocols for High Tortuga?”

  “Putting it that way ...” Natalya said.

  “Exactly,” Zoya said.

  Cecil finished her coffee and put the cup on the counter. “Well, I need to get back to work. Thanks for the coffee and the gab.”

  Natalya led her back to the lock. “Any time. Thanks for filling us in on the station.”

  Cecil stepped off the ship. “Happy to do it. I’m looking forward to what’s going to happen next. Getting this place converted from a ghost town to a real station would be amazing.” She stopped at the dock and looked back at Natalya. “That new unit should be ready in a couple of days.”

  “We’re going out to the shipyard day after tomorrow,” Natalya said. “Any chance of getting it replaced by then?”

  Cecil frowned. “Not sure. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, again.”

  “Glad to do it.” Cecil waved and struck off down the dock, leaving Natalya staring after her and wondering what she’d gotten herself—and Zoya—into.

  Chapter 14

  Pulaski Yard

  2366, May 2

  TRAFFIC CONTROL DIRECTED the Peregrine to a shuttle bay along the dorsal ridge of the sprawl of girders, habitats, and construction docks. “What do you suppose they use this for?” Zoya asked, gazing out across the yard.