by Dale Musser
If you do use the laser or the cloaking feature of the wrist com, you can recharge it on the ship using a standard com recharger. It will take twice as long to recharge it as it does a normal wrist com. I would suggest you only use this as a last means of defense.”
“This is great, A’Lappe,” I said. “Thank you.”
He beamed at me, and then leaned close to me and softly said, “I still want to know how you know when I’m around!”
The next day, we made a stop at a nearby planet called Malninal, a small planet with a slightly lesser gravity than Megelleon. This was last planet inside the Federation boundary before crossing into the space around Ryken, Yentum and Goo’Waddle. After a lengthy discussion we agreed that the best cargo to carry on the freighter for trade would be rare and exotic liquors sought by the thirsty inhabitants of these planets; there were some liquors that simply could not be simulated in a synthesizer.
“Liquor trade will give us a good excuse to visit the many bars and drinking establishments on the planet without being conspicuous,” Kerabac said. “Though I do not like the idea of it, we might also see if we can’t make a trade with a Brotherhood dealer for some God’s Sweat, as well. On most planets outside the Federation territories, it’s not an illegal substance, and the demand is still plenty high. Having it onboard as a possible trade product will further remove us from suspicion as spies or Federation operatives. We would not actually have to resell the cargo; we’d only have it among our goods so it appears that it’s for trade. After our mission is complete, of course, we’ll destroy it.”
“I’m not sure I like that idea,” I replied, “but I certainly can see where it might be useful in giving us come credibility. Let’s try to hold off on that idea and only consider it as a last resort. Kerabac and Piesew, see if you can put together a shopping list of rare vintages of wines and liquors that will likely be in demand. Don’t shy away from the good stuff — with my immense wealth, we can fill the cargo hold of the freighter two-thirds full with all sorts of choice items that are certain to be highly sought after.”
Kerabac thought a moment. “We may want to create a dummy story about a raid on a liquor supply warehouse at one of the Federation planets near the border. The news will quickly make its way to the planets by way of the traders. Many would believe we fenced the heist; but they won’t do anything about it, as we‘ll be outside the Federation jurisdiction. However, the rumors surrounding our cargo will go a long way toward the goal of creating a gritty image of our group, and should help to alleviate any suspicion as to our true intentions.”
“I like that idea. See to getting it done,” I responded.
During the next three days, we found time to practice and train for our mission. Kerabac and A’Lappe located some exotic liquors and had them stocked aboard the RASSON BEDAN, the new name for the freighter. A’Lappe and Kerabac had managed to provide very authentic blast markings to the hull to lend the appearance of damage from a recent firefight. Also, many of the original parts on the ship had been swapped out for efficient, though obviously second generation equipment that gave some provenance to the ship being a true trader’s vessel that relied on whatever parts were available on the outer worlds.
Quarters on the vessel were clean but oddly decorated, to the obvious tastes of their individual occupants. Several small sparse cells were set up in the cargo hold area for the male slaves; each had a toilet facility and a plain bunk and nothing else. The women slaves were, for obvious intentions, meant to stay in Kerabac’s cabin. A sofa-like seat occupied a portion of Kerabac’s cabin, and he made it clear that he would sleep there, if visitors happened to be aboard, and Kalana and Sokaia would use the bed. Otherwise, he would sleep use spare bunk in an unused cabin.
The last issue we had to deal with was currency. Inside the Federation, hard currency was seldom seen and transactions were completed by way of Federation credits that were transferred electronically; but outside the Federation such credits were worthless. Instead, coins of various weights and worth were used and their values were based on current metal prices. One of the principal currencies was a metal called durtronium and another commonly used in this sector was maxalite. There was also another form of currency that consisted of small standard electronic chip components used in practically everything. Exactly what they were or how they worked was a complete mystery to me; but Kerabac and A’Lappe assured me that having just one or two of these small chip coins were a great wealth outside the Federation.
We loaded up with several million credits’ worth of these currencies, which were kept in a safe inside Kerabac’s cabin. A’Lappe and Kerabac checked out the cloaking device, the new engine and the RMFF upgrades. All were pronounced to be in working order.
It was on our third day that our sensors picked up the signal of a large warship ahead of us near Ryken. Before long, a second and third ship appeared on the screens. While under cloak, we slipped inside the protective ring and moved in closer to the planet. As we approached one of the moons of the planet, we decloaked just long enough for the RASSON BEDAN to disembark. Then, just as quickly, the NEW ORLEANS cloaked again, leaving the RASSON BEDAN apparently alone near the moon. To anyone observing on long-range sensor vid screens, it would just seem that the RASSON BEDAN suddenly came into range of their sensors and that there were no other ships in the area. Once clear of the NEW ORLEANS, Kerabac gave the orders and Norkoda guided the RASSON BEDAN toward Ryken’s largest city and spaceport.
We secured a landing space and touched down. Kerabac paid the landing fees and took care of all the paperwork. He, Norkoda, and two others from the ship then went into the city on the pretext of trying to find buyers for our cargo. This followed a typical pattern for an arriving trader vessel. The rest of the crew and those of us assuming the role of slaves stayed onboard until we were needed.
Kala and Sokaia monitored local news and communication channels with the hope of picking up useful information, but the only news of any real interest was the embargo that the Brotherhood had around the planet and the outrage it was causing globally. Clearly, the Brotherhood was not held in high esteem with the population at the moment, but they had the muscle to enforce their agenda and continue their actions without resistance. Though ships were being detained for inspections, no one was denied exit from the system, once their ship had been cleared by the Brotherhood. The fact that none of the cargos of the detained ships were being taken made the situation marginally tolerable, even if the intimidation and delays were infuriating for the traders and other travelers. Rumors abounded on the news; the most popular broadcast related frequent updates regarding the Brotherhood’s search for a man named Logden, who was said to have cheated the Brotherhood in some contractual agreement. The Brotherhood was offering a 1 million credit reward for anyone turning Logden in alive or to anyone who provided information leading to his capture.
While we waited, Kala saw to dyeing my hair a dark brown. She then gave me a pill that A’Lappe had provided, assuring me that it would cause future hair growth for the next few weeks to be of the same dark shade. I had not trimmed or cut my hair since leaving the estate, and it was beginning to look a bit ragged; but to appear as an authentic slave, it would be better if it were still longer. I had also allowed a stubble of beard to grow on my face; Kala applied dye to that as well. By the time she finished, I barely recognized myself.
Using the device A’Lappe provided, Kala applied bruises to Marranalis, Padaran and me. These marks would go away gradually, like any normal bruise, and every few days we would need to create new ones to make it appear that we were being beaten regularly. Marranalis and I took on most of the bruises, while Padaran was only given one large bruise on his face, which is where a house slave would most likely be struck. They generally received fewer beatings than the hard labor slaves. Kala and Sokaia took turns helping each other make their hair look less cared for; they too applied bruises to each other, and by the time we all were finished, we looked like a pretty sad
and beaten lot.
Kerabac had been gone quite a while, but we were not concerned, as we expected it might take time before he would be able to make some connections. It was possible it might be a day or more before he returned to the ship. He would need to visit a lot of bars and clubs to start seeding his stories and rumors. In the meantime, Norkoda had been moving about the planet, pretending that he was trying to acquire goods for trade. All the while, he was listening in to the local conversations to see what information he might glean as to the location of Logden and the solbidyum. It was in the wee hours of the morning on the second day when Norkoda returned to the ship.
“We weren’t expecting you back so soon,” I said, once he was aboard and the ship was sealed.
“I hadn’t planned on returning so soon, but I have information I think you need to hear.”
While I was not good at reading facial features on Nibarians, it was obvious that he was greatly concerned about what he had discovered. We went to the galley area, which also served as the planning room, so he could relate to us what he had discovered. Kerabac was still out, and we had no idea when he might return. I felt it best to find out as much as we could and as soon as possible. I called all available crewmembers, save for Padaran. He was on watch at the moment, but would still be able to hear and see the meeting from the vid screen on the bridge. Once everyone aboard had gathered, I asked Norkoda to present his report.
“I went to a number of trade warehouses to look for goods. I really heard very little, until I came upon one storage depot stocked with a number of bales of God’s Sweat arranged on pallets in a back corner. Six men were loading the bales onto a small transport, when suddenly a man came in and everyone stopped working as soon the man began to speak. I was not able to hear their conversation at first, but then I heard one man say something to the newcomer — I heard the name ‘Shydak.’
“I was able to place a bugging device with a sound amplifier where I was standing so I could move away from their area while pretending to look at other goods. I was able to pick up and record the remainder of their conversation. Later, after they finished loading their cargo and departed from the depot bay, I recovered the recording device. Here,” he said. He pulled out the recorder and activated the playback as he sat it on the table. “I think you should hear this for yourself.”
A gruff voice could be heard on the recording. “…found no sign of him here. He’s not on Ryken. If he were, some Vorgovian slime slug would have heard something and would be clamoring to take the reward. A lot of people seem to be looking for him, but no one is finding anything. Shydak gave me the name of a fellow he says is a fairly reliable source, if you have enough money to loosen his tongue. He says this guy claims he knew someone who sold Logden an old beat-up transport a few days ago, and that Logden acted like he was in a big hurry to go someplace. All this happened on Goo’Waddle — and Logden picked up the ship two days later. Shydak’s contact didn’t know whether Logden had left Goo’Waddle, but it was the next day when we showed up and set up the blockade of all ships leaving the area. It’s doubtful that Logden could have made it out of the system with that old transport he bought, as it didn’t have that kind of range.”
“So then he’s got to be on one of the three planets here,” another of the men said.
“He’d better be,” the first speaker continued. “Shydak says our arrangements with the Tottalax are contingent on us having that solbidyum in hand when they arrive. No solbidyum, and they may just turn on us instead of joining with us to wipe out the Federation.”
“I don’t get it,” a third individual interrupted. “Why are we trying to make a treaty with the Tottalax?”
“Why? You idiot! We have about a thousand ships to go up against the Federation. We can’t match them on our own; and while the Federation doesn’t know how many ships we have, it doesn’t really matter, because nothing we have can go up against their starships and survive. Especially now that we know most of them have cloaking devices and protective shields. The Tottalax have starships equal in size to the Federation’s, and their ships have a super-tough alloy skin that seems to resist everything thrown at them. Plus, they have hundreds of thousands of warships. We also hear they have some nerve beam weapon that can penetrate an RMFF shield and render the crews of a Federation ship helpless. We need the Tottalax for our invasion of the Federation to succeed!”
“How do we know we can trust them? Why would they want to help us and then not turn around and do us in, too, so they can take over the Federation instead of letting us have it?”
“Because, idiot, they’re amphibians. They only want worlds that are mostly aquatic and have a temperate climate. Plus, the seas of the planets they are able to inhabit must have specific water conditions to ensure their survival and breeding — most planets in the Federation are too dry for them or their seas are chemically wrong. The Brotherhood doesn’t care about the aquatic worlds, so we’ll let them have those. Besides, the Tottalax need us to supply them with God’s Sweat. So far, we are the only ones who know where it comes from. Since we’re growing it and since we control the market, we also control anyone hooked on God’s Sweat. As long as we hold that card, the Tottalax will do as we wish.”
“I don’t get it. God’s Sweat is an addictive drug for humans; it’s not addictive to them Tottalaxes, so why do they want it?”
“Shydak says God’s Sweat acts like an aphrodisiac on the Tottalax females. Normally they’re only interested in sex during their seasonal mating time, but the males always want sex. God’s Sweat makes the females receptive to sex all the time. Now, get this shit loaded. Tomorrow we need to head over to Goo’Waddle to see if we can pick up Logden’s trail!”
Norkoda turned off the recording and stared at us briefly while we digested what we had just heard.
“Who are the Tottalax?” I asked. “I’ve never heard anyone mention them before.”
“I never heard of them before today, either,” Norkoda said, “but I did look them up in the computer and there is a brief mention of them. They are a race quite a ways outside the Federation territory. Not a lot is known about them. They have been encountered a few times by traders, but trade with them has been very limited. They appear to be a mostly aquatic culture, like these guys were saying. They are said to be amphibians, capable of breathing both water and air, but they prefer to be underwater most of the time. According to the individuals alleged to have met them, their ships are filled with water and no human has ever been aboard one. Even when they are out in the open air, they have a breathing apparatus that sprays a constant mist of water on their gills to keep them wet. They need a near 98% humidity to remain in the open air for long. How they ever got interested in star travel and made it into space is an interesting question to me. We know next to nothing about their government or customs, and the Federation has no records of any Federation delegations visiting their home world or studying their kind. In fact, their exact location in the galaxy isn’t recorded in Federation files, so we have no idea just where their home world is located.”
“From the way the recorded conversation sounds, it would seem they are located on this side of the galaxy someplace. How did the Brotherhood ever get in contact with them, I wonder?”
“I did a little discreet snooping among the local traders by asking whether they had any Tottalax goods to trade. Not one of them had ever even heard of the race, so they obviously can’t be too terribly close to this area.”
“I really don’t like any of this. I think you’d better prepare a report and get it off to Commander Wabussie. Also copy Commodore Stonbersa and Captain Felenna. I wonder whether Felenna may have heard something about these Tottalax while she was a Brotherhood member. Hopefully some of the FSO agents can get more info, but in the meantime, Wabussie can notify the admiralty so they can begin making some sort of plans to deal with this crisis.”
After Norkoda left to prepare a report to Commander Wabussie, Sokaia approached me. “Sir, what d
o you make of the mention of a weapon that can penetrate the RMFF shields and disable the crews?”
“Honestly, Lieutenant Commander, I have no idea what to make of it. What does disable mean? Are they rendered unconscious, immobile, convulsive? I wish we knew more so we could investigate some way to defend against them and this technology. And how do they know it’s effective against an RMFF unless they have already tried it? But so long as they can’t actually get into the ship or destroy it, it we have some consolation. Still, it could be devastating, if they are able to incapacitate Federation ships and proceed unchallenged to inner planets where they can destroy or attack and pillage without any resistance. I wish there was some way for us to find out more about this weapon before we actually encounter it. We need to know more about these Tottalax — the size of their military and its strength, their home world location, and whether negotiation with them is possible. The last thing the Federation needs is for the Brotherhood to form an alliance with some major military power.”
An hour later I was sparring with Marranalis in the cargo hold, when Kerabac returned, beaming. “I think I have found a way to gain the credibility and reputation we want to draw Logden out.”
Marranalis and I halted our action and turned to face him. “Let’s hear it,” I said.
“I was trying to unload some of our liquor on local club owner, a man named Howebim, when he asked if we were going to Goo’Waddle. I said it was our next stop. He said he had a package that needed to be delivered there; and if we would transport it, we’d be paid well upon delivery. From the way he was acting, I get the idea it’s not something exactly legal, and the amount he’s saying we’d be paid is definitely above the going rate.