ARMS War for Eden

by Arseneault, Stephen

  Tawn shook her head. “I don’t know. Anybody who had those must have known their value.”

  Harris chuckled. “We didn’t. Maybe she ripped off some other dumbass slug and stump. Had we walked away from this at the start with a thousand credits in our pockets, who’s to say we wouldn’t have been happy and never questioned it? Other than the illegal aspect to it. Seems like easy enough money.”

  Tawn nodded. “Maybe. Hey, you still have all those unspent credits in your account. Might not be a bad idea to wait out the cargo on the Bangor. This deal and the monies that are involved are making me nervous.”

  Four hours of sitting around in the cockpit discussing the recent events saw delivery of the seventy thousand plasma charges. The Bangor lifted from the city spaceport on its way back to Bella III. The auction would go off in two days. Tawn grew increasingly excited with anticipation.

  Chapter 9

  _______________________

  Bonn stood at a podium with a gavel. “Ladies and gentleman… let the auction begin! All bidders should have received your digital packets. Credit deposits should now be in place and awaiting acceptance. If not, you will be shut off from participation in approximately three minutes.

  “The bids will go as follows. A base price will show on your auction tablet display. You may accept that bid or enter one of your own. So long as your bid is valid, the value on your display will show as green. Should another outbid you, that value will turn yellow. You will not be allowed to bid more than your deposit amounts.

  “The process is simple and straightforward, and it should conclude within ten to fifteen minutes’ time. We will be beginning with the Saxon Repeating rifles, which will now each be bundled with a single military grade plasma charge. Select Accept or enter a value to begin. Should anyone become upset or unruly for any reason, they will be immediately escorted out of the building and will not be allowed to return or to bid further. We are adults here. Please act accordingly. And good hunting to all.”

  The warehouse area that had been cleared for the auction was jam-packed with bidders. The minimum price of the repeaters quickly climbed from the six hundred credit mark to just over a thousand. Five minutes in, the bidding price had surpassed the fifteen hundred credit mark previously had by Cletus Dodger. When the last of the bidders declined to raise their bids, the price sat at twenty-two hundred fourteen credits.

  The Fox-40s saw a similar run, coming in at just over a thousand credits each. They, too, included a bundled military grade charge. Following those were standard plasma rifles, two hundred sixty-two of them, bringing in seven hundred twenty credits when bundled with a standard plasma charge. When the auction of the final products was finished, the auction total sat at just over one-point-six million credits. All purchases were delivered, and all buyers left with grins on their faces.

  Bonn patted a stunned Harris Gruberg on the back. “That went well. I think we let the market settle for a few weeks and we might be able to do this all over again. After that we might have to wait until next year. Don’t want to saturate our market.”

  Tawn looked at the total. “You get 8 percent. That’s just over a hundred thousand credits. And you did all the work. Almost doesn’t seem fair.”

  Bonn smiled. “Are you kidding? This was a marketing bonanza. I’ve sold half the store’s inventory in the last two days alone. Would have taken me nine months to turn over that kind of stock.

  “If you can provide similar hardware for us to do this again in a few weeks, I might just be able to sell the whole store and retire afterward. Probably everyone on this planet knows and is talking about the auction at Bella Sports. My competitors are all squirming with envy about now.”

  Tawn asked, “Do we have to wait for transactions to clear the banks?”

  “Not with held deposits. The credits are in my account. Give me a moment and I’ll have the transfer ready for you. Minus the three hundred thousand advance of course. And my fee. Let’s see. Your total is just over one and a quarter million credits. And here you are.”

  Harris stared as the credits in his account soared.

  When the transaction was complete, Tawn had her account bracelet held out. “Fill her up. And I’m feeling generous today. Let’s just round down to the nearest hundred thousand. That should give you more than enough to cover any costs, and a little extra for your troubles.”

  Harris held up his bracelet. “You’re OK with six hundred thousand even?”

  Tawn laughed. “Who wouldn’t be? I could buy my own ship with that.”

  The credits moved across to a grinning, genetically-enhanced, former Biomarine. “How much did you give for the Bangor here? She’s not a bad ship.”

  Harris continued to stare at his account. “Around a quarter mil. But it’s spread over twenty years. Probably double what it’s worth.”

  Tawn replied, “I don’t know. Has a decent cargo hold. Simple to operate. You had to do any maintenance?”

  “None. And she flies like crap. She has a jump drive that has been prone to failure in this model. And there’s a smell to her that I can’t quite place. Oh, and she’s about as ugly a ship as was ever built.”

  Tawn thought about his statements. “I don’t know. I kind of like her. I’ll give you that quarter mill for your ship. Kind of seems like something a slug or a stump would own.”

  Harris looked up at his partner for several seconds. “Uh, no. She’s not for sale.”

  Tawn laughed. “I thought you just said you paid twice what she’s worth? I’m willing to make that decision right. Sell me the Bangor.”

  Harris shook his head. “No. Can’t do it. She’s got sentimental value. If I sold her, Farker would be heartbroken. He’s become very attached to it.”

  Tawn chuckled. “That dog has been powered down for a couple weeks now. His only attachment to that ship is an electric cord. But that’s OK, I understand. Probably not a good time for either of us to make rash decisions with our newfound wealth.”

  Tawn sighed as she gazed at her bracelet. “Six hundred thousand credits. Looks like dumping Bax was the right thing to do.”

  Harris said, “You know we can never tell her about what transpired here. And we’re probably gonna get a fight from her about how much she’s gonna get.”

  “I think we have more than enough now to buy her silence.”

  Harris replied, “I’m not giving her a dime more than agreed to. Remember, she tried to have me killed.”

  Tawn landed the flyerlight on the tarmac beside the Bangor. “Look. We have a ready market here on Bella. She’s the only supplier we know. If we try to go legit we’ll be having to get tangled up in all the government red tape. Maybe we cut her a sweet deal on another load? If she gets credits in her pocket she’s gonna come away happy. And we can make her happy. I think.”

  Harris boarded the ship and went straight for the robotic dog. The button under his chin was pressed and the mechanical pet came to life. He was eager to see his owner as always. Tawn sat in the copilot’s chair as the Bangor’s retrojets came to life. Her steel and faux-fur friend attached himself to her leg.

  “Why have I not seen him do that to anyone else?”

  Harris laughed. “You know animals have a sense about them. Maybe he sees you as needy.”

  Tawn scowled. “Yeah. Right. It’s mechanical with a programmed brain. It doesn’t have a sense of anything it’s not been told to know.”

  Tawn pushed the dog gently away with a finger pointing scold. “No more. I’ve had enough. You do that again and you won’t be my friend.”

  The dog laid flat on the deck with two sad eyes looking upward. He then rolled over on his back, curling his front paws down in a submissive gesture.

  Harris looked at Tawn. “I don’t know who did the programming for that pet, but that is just perfect. It knows enough to take your scold and turn it around on you. You look like the bad guy here.”

  Tawn crossed her arms as the Bangor jumped through to Domicile space.
r />   ***

  The two Biomarines sat in a bar on Chicago Port Station. Farker was nestled on the floor beneath them. Harris checked out the ladies in the crowds moving past the bar as he looked out a front window. One of them pulled up short, standing in front of the glass with her hands on her hips.

  Baxter Rumford stomped into the bar. “Where’s my merchandise?”

  Harris replied, “Sold it. Won’t say where. But I have your credits. I did a few calculations, and I’m being generous here, I have eight thousand one hundred fifty-nine credits for you.”

  Bax huffed. “That cargo was probably worth thirty times that much.”

  Harris shrugged. “Not if you don’t have buyers. And if it was worth that much, why not cut out the middleman and sell it yourself?”

  Bax flipped her hair, offering her best smile. “So really, where’s my cargo?”

  Tawn leaned forward onto the bar to look around Harris. “Sold. And it’s not coming back. Too bad you don’t have more of it. We could sell that too.”

  Bax sat on a stool beside Harris. “Maybe I do have more. What’s in it for me?”

  “Triple what we paid for that. If you can provide us with a similarly sized load,” Harris replied.

  Bax tapped her fingernails on the edge of the bar. “Let’s just say I did have a similar number of weapons available. Name me a fixed firm price.”

  Harris leaned closer. “Thirty thousand credits?”

  Bax laughed. “Ha! I could get fifty without leaving this bar.”

  Harris looked over at Tawn. “Would you be willing to part with fifty thousand credits for another delivery?”

  Tawn nodded. “I could get behind that. When could you have them ready?”

  Bax looked down the bar toward the docking area of the station. “I have almost the exact same load waiting right now. If you want it, though, you’re gonna be moving it over yourself. I’m not dragging anything again. Destroyed my nails.”

  Harris replied, “We’ll take it, but we get to pick the transfer point.”

  Bax shrugged. “Fine. But I need to see proof of the credits before we leave here.”

  Harris lifted his bracelet, tapping away on the control buttons before showing it to his repeat supplier. “Fifty thousand, on hold, assigned to Baxter Rumford to collect within twenty-four standard hours.”

  Bax looked at the empty bottles on the bar in front of the two Biomarines. “Someone celebrating? You must have done well.”

  Tawn nodded. “We got paid, so yeah, we done well.”

  Bax stood. “See me at my slip with coordinates and we’ll make the trade. And if this works out I might have another, even bigger one for you. With buyers and all. I’d do it myself but I’d just rather not deal with colonists.”

  Harris asked, “Where you getting all this stuff? Mil surplus?”

  Bax thought for a moment. “Yep. Surplus. But don’t be asking around or trying to break into my business. That would mean all-out war between us.”

  Baxter Rumford stood and sashayed across the floor and out onto the promenade, waving with the fingers on one hand as she passed the window.

  Tawn turned up the remainder of a beer before setting the bottle back on the bar. “That was too easy. I don’t trust her.”

  Harris replied, “She said mil surplus, which was what we suspected. She got over the first deal. And she’s looking to move her merchandise. What’s to be suspicious of?”

  “She didn’t even ask for her eight thousand credits. Coming from her I call that highly suspicious.”

  Bax placed her hand with her long slender fingers on Harris’ shoulder. “About that. I do need my credits.”

  Tawn said, “How many of you are there walking around here? I just watched you go by.”

  “I turned back when I remembered.”

  Harris held up his store. “Credits should be in your account.”

  Bax turned. “See you at the slip.”

  Tawn watched as she paraded out onto the promenade walk and then again past the window. “I’m still suspicious.”

  Harris laughed. “Suspicious enough for another round?”

  Tawn rapped her knuckles on the bar. “If that requires suspicion, then yes. Hit me again.”

  Two additional hours of drinking passed.

  Harris took a swig a his new beer. “Now this brings back memories. Having a few credits to your name and the time to just sit back and chill on R&R. If this deal works out as sweet as the last one, we might just be set for life. What would you do with a million credits in your store?”

  Tawn rubbed her forehead. “Not sure. I heard there’s a colony of us settling in on a planet in the Rabid system. Maybe I’ll buy a ship and check it out.”

  “Rabid.” Harris chuckled. “Perfect name for a colony of slugs and stumps. Where’d you hear that rumor from?”

  Tawn gestured toward the planet Domicile as seen through the skylight above them. “Heard it from a couple other slugs down on the surface. Mostly just talk I think. But I’d go check it out if I had a ship.”

  Harris set his beer on the bar. “Fifteen each. I think we’ve had our quota. I think I’ll go back to the ship to nap for a bit.”

  Tawn shook her head. “Not me. I’m heading to the Waldorf. Gonna get a nice hot shower and then hit their spa for a massage. Some lucky masseuse is gonna be rubbing his hands all over this.”

  Harris returned a scowl. “Lucky, huh? Call it what you want. I’ll be at the Bangor. Come collect me and Farker when you’re ready to face Red.”

  Harris nudged his robotic pet to life, left a generous tip, and stumbled toward the door before collecting himself. A calm walk out and toward the docks proceeded.

  Tawn stood and winked at the bartender before turning to make her way toward the Waldorf. A hot shower was something she was in desperate need of.

  ***

  Farker farked with delight as Tawn Freely came aboard the ship. “Where’s the stump at, boy?”

  The dog turned to face the partially open door to the bunkroom. Tawn glanced in and then turned away in disgust. She banged her fist on the wall out in the cabin.

  “Harris! Get up! We’ve got business to take care of! And for Pete’s sake… cover yourself up!”

  A groggy Harris Gruberg stumbled to the door poking his head out with one eye open. “Sorry you had to see that. What have I been asleep for? Two hours?”

  Tawn shook her head. “Try four. What’s the matter? Stump can’t hold his beer anymore?”

  Harris grimaced as he moved to close the door to wash his face. “Apparently not. I used to be immune to that stuff.”

  Tawn laughed. “We’re getting old. Might be time to ease back on the throttle a bit. Release day was the last time I had that many beers and I kind of felt like this, now that I remember. And you need to get yourself together. Bax is no fool. If she’s pushing this merchandise on us for that cheap there has to be a reason. I need you to be sharp out there.”

  Harris cracked open the door as he dried his face with a towel. We’ll be fine. If she tries something we’ll see it before it happens. That’s what they trained us for.”

  Tawn said, “So I can guess you’ve kept up on your training? Don’t you start losing muscle memory after a few months on the bench? And please. Pull up your drawers or put on a belt or something. Nobody wants to see the crack of your—”

  Baxter Rumford stood in the doorway behind Tawn. “You two gonna do this thing or what? I’ve been sitting over there wasting my time waiting on a slug and a stump. I have places to go and people to see.”

  Tawn replied, “Hold your horses. Harris has to put on his makeup and do his hair.”

  Bax winced. “He doesn’t have any hair.”

  Harris stepped out of his bunkroom as he pulled a tight shirt over his tree-trunk-like abdomen. “You ladies aren’t gonna start fighting over me, are you?”

  Bax frowned. “Only if one of us is forced to stay here with you. And it looks like the slug already drew the s
hort straw.”

  Coordinates were given for an exchange and the transfer was made. The Bangor jumped to Bella III as the Fargo returned to Chicago Port Station. Instead of having to wait for another auction, Bonn Herrik purchased the entire cargo for a cool million credits outright. An offer for more stock was put forth with a similar payout promised.

  Chapter 10

  _______________________

  The Bangor and her Biomarine crew made five additional runs over the course of a week. Each time paying fifty thousand credits to Baxter Rumford and receiving a million in return. Bonn Herrick had handled each of the transactions on Bella III, leaving Harris and Tawn to only deliver the goods.

  Harris had his feet propped up on his console as the box shaped ship made its way toward Chicago Port Station. “Can’t believe how my luck has turned since acquiring this ship.”

  Tawn turned up a cold beverage. “Yeah, the easy money is making me nervous, though. This might be my last run. I know Bonn said Bella was a big market, but we’ve delivered a thousand repeaters. Just over a million people… I know they’re outdoorsy and all, but that’s enough to start a small war out there. I thought he was worried about saturating the market?”

  “All I know is the credit transfers are going through. He must be selling to other dealers there now or something. And what do we care so long as we’re getting paid?”

  ***

  Bax was waiting at her slip. “Just wanted to let you know, I had someone talk to your buyer.”

  Tawn returned an angry stare. “You try to go around us I’ll slit you from top to bottom.”

  “Relax slug,” Bax said as she turned to face Harris. “Can you put her back on her chain for a minute?”

  Harris replied, “Just tell us what you have to say.”

  “As I was trying to say, my associate talked to your buyer and they sized the market potential now that word has gotten out. I’ve rented a larger ship. You’ll be hauling twenty-five hundred of each weapon along with half a million military grade charges out there. It’s all prearranged. You still get your generous cuts at the same rates. You two are probably gonna be the richest pair of bios on Domicile. Mr. Herrik is willing to pay ten million credits for delivery. You know the drill to get through customs there and to get them delivered. I’ve already taken an advance from him to cover my portion.”