by T. R. Harris
“Did he tell you about me?”
“Yes, initially. He had me do extensive research on you—as well as Mister Tarazi and Ms. Valentine. Are they with you?”
“Just Mister Tarazi. He’s with Copernicus.”
“I look forward to meeting him, too.”
So Copernicus had done extensive research on the group. Adam wondered how long that research had been going on? Coop had made it out as if his approaching them had been a spur of the moment thing.
“Do you have a form…something you project on the screen when talking with Mr. Smith?” he asked the computer…Dora.
“I do…why do you ask?”
“I would feel more comfortable if you had a face.”
“Forgive me, I should have realized.” The image of a middle-aged woman with short black hair and deep dark eyes popped on the screen. It was not what Adam had been expecting.
“Your expression is one of surprise.”
“I was expecting something…different.”
“Younger perhaps, more attractive?”
“Well, no, not exactly.”
“It is okay, Captain Cain. I am a replica of Mr. Smith’s mother.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” The woman on the screen stretched a wide grin across her face. “Oh how I love Human speech. We will get along just fine, Adam Cain.”
“Call me Adam.”
“I am Dora. Dora Smith.”
“Well, Dora, how long has Coop had an interest in me and my friends?”
“It has been—”
The conversation was interrupted when Copernicus rushed through the doorway with Riyad trailing behind. His eyes narrowed as he looked first at the image on the computer monitor and then at Adam.
“I see you’ve met Dora?”
Adam grinned. “Your mother is delightful.”
“She’s not my real mother, you know?”
“You could have fooled me.”
“Welcome home, Copernicus,” Dora said, a motherly smile on her two-dimensional image. “Mister Cain and I were just having a conversation—”
“Resume generic image…restrict access,” Coop ordered. The woman disappeared, replaced by a stylized CS Repair & Hauling with the trail of a starship wrapping around the logo. “Little reminders of home never hurt anyone,” he said, tossing a duffle bag on the couch.
Riyad walked gingerly into the room, taking short breaths as he did. Adam took notice.
“Keep it moisturized, that will help.”
“Crashing on a bed with a fifth of Jim Beam would help more.”
“So much for your religious upbringing.”
“You know I gave up that part of it many years ago. Now, Coop, do you have any spirits around?”
He pulled a bottle of golden liquid from a desk drawer and handed it to Riyad.
“Not the real stuff, but close enough. They make it locally.”
“Now…about a bed?”
“There are four small bedrooms down the hallway. The big one at the end is mine. Don’t go in there. The head is…well, follow the smell.”
“Typical bachelor.” Riyad flashed everyone a wide grin and then disappeared down the hallway.
Coop turned to Adam. “The computer is off-limits, too. I have sensitive client information in there. And you know how paranoid my clients can get.”
“Just your clients?”
There was a moment of awkward silence until Adam spoke again. “Are you still going to repair the Gradis starship?”
“Of course, that’s what we get paid to do.”
“Aren’t you curious about what’s really aboard?”
“Nothing, according to the Visidorans.”
“You don’t believe that, do you? If the Cartel had nothing to hide, why would they put so much pressure on you to retrieve the ship, and why would the crew hightail it out the moment the ship broke down?”
“It was a Gradis crew, Cain. Each of them were probably wanted for other crimes. Besides, the normal procedure would have been to destroy the ship rather than have it fall into the hands of an unfriendly government.”
“But they didn’t know that at the time. They thought—or at least their bosses thought—that the ship was going to be repaired. So why did they skip?”
“Don’t have a clue, Sherlock. And now that we’re here—and your friends are safe—the Gradis ship is my concern, not yours.”
“They sure did want the ship back…along with it’s perfectly legal cargo. Aren’t you curious?”
“I may be, but it’s none of your business.”
“C’mon, Coop, let me take a look around. I may be able to see something the Visidorans missed.”
Coop spun around until he was face to face with Adam. “Fine, go take a look! Just don’t steal anything. We may not know what’s aboard, but you can sure bet the Gradis know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.”
“They’re called links out here in the galaxy,” Adam said with a smile.
“What?”
“Phone calls…they’re called links—”
“I know that…!”
Copernicus was about to shout something more, but then he took a furtive glance at the computer screen facing him and thought better of it. He took up the duffle bag and stalked off down the hall, slamming the door to his room behind him.
“You guys want to join me,” Adam said to Kaylor and Jym, his voice edged with excitement and mischief.
The two aliens looked at each other. They had only spent a few hours aboard the Gradis ship initially—mainly in the engine room—before determining that the repair was beyond their mobile capabilities. There’d been no chance to explore beyond that, since the Visidorans showed up almost at the same time they did.
They nodded.
The starship was about two hundred meters long and fifty tall with a sloping bridge area at one end and the typical bulbous engine compartment at the rear. All along the hull, huge metal plates had been welded over previous breaches, or, as in the case of a comm unit, additions were placed where a few square meters of space could be found.
The ship also wasn’t a uniform color. Instead, it had huge swaths of rust, several black panels, and even a few a sickly mustard color. Whatever was available at the time had been duct-taped on, without regard for aesthetics. And this was the ship everyone wanted so badly.
Adam tried the entry latch; it wouldn’t move.
“Is it locked?” Jym asked.
“Looks like it. The Visidoran inspectors came in through the air locks.”
Through his ATD, Adam sought out any internal electronics, something he could trace back to the exterior lock. He didn’t find any—the ship was dead.
So he sought out the internal generators. Most had battery starters. He mentally activated a switch and was rewarded by a dull hum reverberating throughout the hull, as well as a faint glow of an energy signature within his mind. As the batteries primed the generators, he turned to the aliens.
“Was there power when you went aboard?”
“Yes, and life support,” Jym answered.
Since the major systems aboard a starship are linked to the gravity generators, he found this to be strange. Kaylor was a step ahead of him.
“It was strange. All the systems were firing, but still the well wouldn’t form. We did not have a chance to run a full diagnostic, but there are only so many things that would keep a well from forming if the generators are operating. So we placed grapples and headed out. The Visidorans appeared only minutes after we got underway.”
Adam nodded and then tried the entry latch again. This time it moved. A few seconds later they were inside the Gradis Cartel starship.
“We are still responsible for fixing the engines, but maybe with the help of Copernicus, we can solve the mystery.”
“Is he a good mechanic?”
Kaylor’s thin eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline. “Honestly, he is something remarkable. Humans have had
far less experience with starships and star travel than we have, but often I have to defer to his abilities.”
“So he’s the real thing?”
“If you refer to whether or not he is qualified to be a starship repair tech, then very much so.”
Jym snorted. “He is not that good,” the tiny bear grumbled, his status as the premier repair-being threatened by the comments.
Kaylor grinned. “He is good, but not nearly as proficient as you, my friend.”
“Of course not; he is a Human.”
Adam set off down the spine corridor, headed for the cargo hold. Kaylor and Jym fell into stride. “Humans are quite clumsy, normally,” Jym said, not letting the subject drop.
“I can’t argue with that,” Adam said, catching a glint in Kaylor’s eye.
Adam winked.
“Just like old times,” he said.
Kaylor nodded. “It feels good, Adam Cain.”
It was Adam’s turn to nod.
Chapter 18
Copernicus dropped the duffle bag on the floor of his room and rushed to the clothes closet. Yes, he knew it was a cliché, but it was the most convenient and logical location. He pressed on a rear panel and a small side door sprung open. He entered and pressed the panel shut behind him.
A bank of interior lights came on, revealing a glisteningly clean and sophisticated room with a facing comm center. Beyond that rested an extensive cache of weapons, some Human, most alien, and then a wall of computer servers and other high-tech equipment.
Copernicus slipped into a chair before an inset computer screen. He dialed an eleven digit code on a keyboard, pressed his finger into a reading box, and then leaned back, waiting.
The wait wasn’t long.
The round head of Onix Gru appeared on the screen.
“I see you have returned, and with the Gradis ship. Excellent!”
“And my pay?”
“A portion will be transferred momentarily.”
“A portion?”
“You have not completed your assignment.”
“The Visidorans didn’t find anything aboard,” Coop protested.
The Silean shook his head. “We both know that was their oversight. What about Cain?”
“He’s just gone aboard.”
“Again, excellent. The device he has imbedded in his side should allow him to accomplish what our Visidoran allies were unable to do.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Nobody does, Mister Smith. But allow him his space. If anyone can find the artifact, it will be him.”
Now Copernicus smiled. “And he won’t even know he’s doing it.”
“Thank the powers for gullible heroes.”
Then the smile vanished from Coop’s face. “And afterwards? He’ll know what we have. He can’t be allowed to spread the news.”
“He is a Human; you are a Human. I will leave it up to you to decide how to best deal with Adam Cain and his friends.”
********
The bathroom was across the hall from the room Riyad had claimed for himself. After downing half the bottle of golden native whisky, he wobbled out of the room and across the hall. He was going to take Adam’s advice and find a salve for the crusty scab on his burn. He looked under sinks and in wall cabinets but found none. Coop’s room was only steps away.
With liquid courage, Riyad went to the door and lightly tapped. If the repairman was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him. He listened for any response. He tried the doorknob. It turned.
Slowly, Riyad pressed the door open and peeked inside.
It was a fairly large room with a single bed and a chest-of-drawers against one wall—very Earth-like. There was another doorway—opened—at the far end of the room, and Riyad could see it was a bathroom.
“Coop, you in here?” Riyad whispered.
When no reply was heard, Riyad stepped inside.
He was confused. He’s seen Coop enter the room, yet he wasn’t here, and there didn’t appear to be another door to the outside, just an open closet along the right wall. Not wanting to get caught snooping around his host’s inner sanctum, Riyad slipped back into the hallway.
He returned to his room, leaving the door open so he could see Coop if he returned to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of the surprisingly comfortable bed and considered the remaining liquid in the unlabeled bottle. No salve…yet some liquid relief remained. He grasped the bottle and took a long swig. His eyes began to water.
Then Coop passed the doorway, coming from the direction of his bedroom.
Riyad ran after him.
“There you are; I was looking for you.”
Copernicus stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed. “You were…where?”
“Just around here. I’m looking for some form of moisturizer for my wound.” Riyad didn’t want to admit he’d been in Coop’s private lair.
After scrutinizing Riyad for a moment, Coop said, “Check with Dora. There should be something in a first-aid kit. We have several around. She can tell you where.”
“Dora? Who’s Dora?”
“Oh yeah, you came in after me. Dora is my autonomous computer system. She helps me keep track of things around here.”
“Dora? Why did you name it Dora?”
“That’s none of your business. Just ask her where the kits are. She’s in the workroom.”
Coop turned and strode down the hallway with purpose, with Riyad staggering behind him.
In the main workroom, he noticed Riyad had followed him.
“Dora, where do we keep the first-aid kits?” he asked the room, annoyance laced in his voice.
“There are several, Copernicus. You should be aware of their location,” said a female voice from the speakers.
“Send me a note. But for now, where’s the nearest one?
“In a box on the northeast side of the building.”
Coop turned to the half-inebriated Riyad Tarazi. “Did you get that?”
“Yessir, Mister Sergeant Smith, sir.”
“Where’s Cain?” Coop asked Dora.
“He, along with our friends Kaylor and Jym, are in the Gradis starship.”
“Are you taken care of?” Coop asked Riyad.
“Got it. Perfect. No problems here.”
Coop was shaking his head as he left the room, headed for the Gradis ship.
Riyad looked at the computer screen that had been following them since they entered the large office. It displayed the CS Repair logo and nothing more, although he could have sworn he saw the image of a woman when he entered the room earlier.
“Are you Dora?”
“Yes I am,” came the sweet voice through hidden speakers.
Riyad had heard Adam say something about Coop’s mother. “Are you Coop’s mother?”
The computer laughed. “No, I am merely a computer. Yet I have been programmed with many of the traits of Dora Smith.”
“So…a question.”
“I will answer, if my programming allows me.”
“Why did you name him Copernicus?”
“Do you not like the name?”
“Sure, I like it a lot. It’s just that he doesn’t much.”
“As I have been programmed to respond to such a question, I will answer this way: ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’”
Riyad laughed out loud. “That’s how I would classify most of the bad decisions I’ve made in my life. Now if you will excuse me Dora, I have to go find some medicine for my wound.”
********
“Do you believe there’s something of value aboard this ship?” Jym asked Adam.
The trio was rifling through the complete mess that was the ship’s cargo hold. Not a single container remained intact, having already been unceremoniously dumped on the deck and gone through by the Visidorans. Mostly they were finding clothing, computer equipment, even several hundred boxes of alien dolls, all of which had been on their way to various parts of the Frontier or beyond.
As it was with
most commerce throughout the galaxy, there were almost too many local regulations and restrictions to keep track of. Even for something as innocuous as dolls, reality became blurred. In one region, they were a necessary part of a child’s development. In another, they were considered heresy and false idols, and therefore banned from even passing through restricted space.
In the more civilized sections of the Expansion, uniform shipping regulations were being introduced, whereas even banned items were allowed to pass through local space as long as no landfall was made. Yet the Kidis Frontier hadn’t made the transition. Each of the seventy-odd stellar affiliations had their own set of rules. In fact, the restrictions weren’t set up so much to keep contraband out, but rather to extract taxes, tariffs and fines from the shippers, which helped fund the local governments.
This was the reason so many manufacturers employed smugglers to transport their goods. If anyone knew how to slip past local monitors unseen, it was them. And the Gradis Cartel was one of the largest smuggling operations in the Frontier. They ran a fleet of over seven hundred starships—many of the same category and general condition as the one sitting in the shipyard of CS Repair and Hauling. They weren’t much to look at, but they ran…most of the time. In fact it was rare that a ship would break down; yet with such a large fleet, it did happen, at least enough to keep Copernicus and his crews busy.
Copernicus had intimated to Adam that he had contracts with several of the other smuggling operations, not just the Gradis, so he wasn’t hurting for business. In fact, Adam wouldn’t have been surprised to find that these less-than-reputable shippers were his only clients, which helped create the reputation Copernicus had in Kidis. The Visidorans were right. If CS was taking a call, it was a pretty good chance contraband would be found about the stricken vessel.
The fact that the Visidorans couldn’t find any contraband aboard the ship didn’t mean it wasn’t carrying any. It was just that nothing it carried was illegal in Visidoran space. Adam had spent a fair amount of time dealing with smugglers during his early days in the Fringe. From this experience he knew that the cargos were the most important part of a run, not the ship. If the cargo was lost, then future business was lost. These old derelict ships could be easily replaced. New clients—clients who trusted the smugglers and paid on time—were much harder to replace.