Better them than me, Torrin thought. Her role in the galaxy might not be quite as influential, but she was happy with it. She could come and go as she pleased instead of getting stuck on one planet like those poor saps had been.
A few hundred years later, humanity had spread out from Earth again, this time working their way from one star system to the next, spreading steadily outward. Thus the League of Solaran Planets was born.
A strident, high-pitched chirp emanated from the console in front of her. Frowning, she scanned the console’s screens. The sensors had picked up another vessel on the far side of the planet. She danced her fingers across sensitive touchscreens as she uttered a low curse. She set a course that would bring her into the planet’s orbit but would keep her out of sensor range of the ship. Eyes glued to the display, she scanned for any hints that the other vessel had detected her presence. When her ship slipped into orbit, she sighed with relief. Quickly, she powered down all systems except life support and one console display, then double-checked that her transponder beacon was disabled. According to intergalactic law, it was highly illegal to disable a ship’s transponder, but given that the people who’d made that law were the ones she was currently trying to avoid, she wasn’t too worried about the ethics involved.
So…what was a League of Solaran Planets warship doing out in this backwater? She was there to pick up a lucrative smuggling contract, but the League didn’t engage in smuggling, at least not officially. Judging by its position, the ship looked like it was on picket, but her informant hadn’t mentioned a League blockade. The League vessel slipped further out of sensor range, the bulk of the planet effectively shielding her from its instruments. She powered on the AI.
“Tien, any communication from the surface?”
“Negative, Torrin.” The AI’s slightly alien tones echoed around her on the bridge. A small hologram of a diminutive woman in ancient Chinese regalia sprang to life at her elbow. “I do not detect any transmissions.”
“Try scanning radio frequencies. It’s primitive, but I didn’t notice any satellites in orbit. Without those, radio may be the only way they can contact us.” If that were the case, she wondered, how had the Orthodoxans managed to get their request out in the first place? They had to have a contact on the League ship, she decided. It was what she would have done in the same situation. Even the high-and-mighty League had its elements who were willing to put aside the finer points of legality and make an easy credit or two.
“Affirmative, Torrin, scanning now.” The hologram furrowed her brows in concentration. “I have scanned all twenty-three radio channels that are currently within range. All but one register with static, and that one is repeating a string of numbers. The numbers match Cartesian coordinates on the planet’s surface.”
The main viewscreen flickered to life in front of her. The outline of Haefen’s landmasses appeared. The planet seemed to be mainly ocean, but with two main continents, connected by a narrow isthmus that ran east to west. When Tien overlaid the radioed coordinates on the screen, a pulsating point marked the coordinates on the southwestern hemisphere of the larger of the continents. It was some distance from the isthmus that connected the two continents.
“Bring us in quietly but not right to their coordinates. Pick a spot about forty kilometers away where we can set down.” Torrin didn’t intend to provide the Orthodoxans with the temptation of seizing her vessel. Even though she was there to negotiate a contract to smuggle materials to them, she had no illusions about what a backwater society with no space assets might resort to if they thought they could procure the items on their own. She’d spent too many credits retrofitting and customizing the Calamity Jane to consider placing her pride and joy in needless danger.
She waited as the vessel shuddered its way through the atmosphere and broke through the thin layer of clouds. Everything on this planet seemed to be a shade of blue. Even the clouds were a powder puff blue.
“Tien, is there anything I need to know about the inhabitants?”
The AI was silent for a few moments. Its little avatar massaged its chin as if in contemplation. “Haefonian society is fairly backward by our standards. Their preferred method of transportation is by Earth horse. They scrabble out a living in the arid planet’s wastelands. The few resources are a source of constant conflict for the planet’s inhabitants, who are broken into dozens of warring tribes.”
Torrin had to make allowances for Tien’s standards. The AI was rather League-centric, which made sense since she’d been liberated from a League vessel. From the description, Haefen sounded much like other planets on the Fringes.
“It’s arid? It didn’t look that way from orbit. The planet’s blue, for crying out loud. Frozen hells, Tien! The screen shows it’s mostly water.”
“All I can tell you is what my databanks tell me, Torrin.”
“Didn’t we just get those updated?” It was unlike Tien to be off in the information she provided. Even though the League data on Fringe planets was a little sketchy, her people spent lots of time in the Fringes and had built up their own database. She’d had the latest updates added during the ship’s last retrofit.
“The residents are short-tempered and prone to squabbles and feuds that can last generations,” Tien said instead of answering. “You will want to watch what you say to avoid insulting the locals.”
Torrin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about how to do my job?”
“I merely thought you ought to be prepared, Torrin,” Tien replied equably. “You do not want to become the cause of a blood feud.”
“I’ve been doing this a while,” Torrin said. “I think I can be trusted not to insult an entire society by accident.”
“I only worry that it will not be by accident, Torrin.” Tien kept talking over Torrin’s irritated exhalation. “We have landed. Perhaps you should attend to your preparations for the trip.”
“Snotty machine,” Torrin grumbled under her breath.
She unstrapped herself from the pilot’s chair and strode out of the bridge and down the narrow corridor to her sleeping quarters. She hauled clothing out of the drawers in her cabinet, looking for an all-weather jumpsuit. The red jumpsuit with black flashing accentuated her hips and breasts, making it perfect to wear during the upcoming negotiations. Torrin grinned. She had some great assets, and she was damn well going to flaunt them if it gave her an advantage. After some thought, she pulled her dark red hair back into a simple ponytail that ended halfway down her back.
Torrin looked at herself critically in the mirror. Satisfied with her ensemble, she belted on a plasma pistol and a lethal-looking military-grade combat knife. She wanted to look feminine but not vulnerable. The pistol and knife should dispel any particular ideas of defenselessness in her hosts’ minds. Also, the pistol was a great sample of the type of weaponry she could provide to a feuding backwater princeling to satisfy whatever grudge he had against his neighbors. It was a lucrative opportunity and one she didn’t intend to pass up. It was also one with a time limit. Her informant—Neal—had mentioned that there were others interested in the opportunity. Because of their long history with one another, not to mention a hefty bonus, he’d agreed to keep the information under his hat for a little bit. Knowing Neal, that wouldn’t last long. The profit in information brokering came from selling the same bit as often as possible, and Neal was a master at maximizing his own profit. She couldn’t complain too much; she’d made a lot of money running down his leads.
The door hissed open as she walked toward it. She followed the passage left until it ended at a ladder down to the lower deck. Torrin braced her feet on the outside of the ladder and slid down its length in one smooth movement. The lights came on in the cargo bay as she made her way to the front of the ship. The storage space was small for most vessels this size. She’d sacrificed a lot of room to cram upgraded engines into the ship. The compromise made in storage was more than an even trade for the extra
speed the engines provided. In her profession, the ability to outrun and evade the authorities was much more important than how much she could carry. Besides, once she’d struck her lucrative deal, she had access to many other ships to provide delivery of the goods.
Since she was on a fishing expedition, the cargo bay was mostly empty. If the trip panned out, she would be coordinating many more runs and each would be lucrative enough to make her a hefty profit.
“What do you think, Tien?” she queried the empty air. “Do I go with the bike or the antigrav sled?”
“The antigrav sled will not leave any tracks that will lead back to us, but from the power signatures I read while we were in orbit, I doubt the natives have the technological capability for you to recharge it. I recommend the bike, Torrin. If you blur the tracks, this afternoon’s storm will destroy any sign of your passage and we should be safe enough from native predations.” Tien’s voice blared out from a number of speakers and bounced around the empty cargo bay in an unnerving echo.
“Excellent point, as always.” Torrin strode over to the two vehicles strapped into place against the far wall.
The AI didn’t answer, but Torrin hadn’t really expected a response. She disengaged the restraining clamps and lowered the bike from the wall. The sleek, wicked-looking two-wheeler gleamed in the dim lighting. It was low-slung and had enough room on the back to carry a passenger. She’d upgraded the bike herself, adding storage canisters to the rear to increase its speed output and a gyroscopic stabilizer. Short of her taking it over a cliff, the bike wasn’t about to tip over. The trip from their landing spot to the coordinates they’d picked up wasn’t going to take long. They were far enough removed that no one was likely to stumble across the ship, but close enough that Torrin wouldn’t be traveling all day. There was no need to bring an additional fuel cell.
“Tien, the door, please.”
The cargo bay door lowered and daylight quickly intruded at the top of the cargo bay and along the back wall. Torrin wheeled the bike over to the top of the ramp and stopped dead.
The planet was so…blue. The view from orbit had suggested as much, but from the ground the intensity of the color was overwhelming. The sky was a vibrant azure she’d never seen before. None of the dozens of skies she’d seen on other Fringe worlds could match it… The clouds were blue, but a lighter shade than the sky. Even the trees were blue. Not as blue as the sky, but the leaves were definitely blue and the bark was a darker, more muted blue that verged on navy.
It definitely wasn’t arid, though. There was no way trees could grow that tall unless there was plenty of water. Something was definitely off with Tien’s databanks. Torrin hoped she’d come to the right place. If she hadn’t, she’d find out soon enough. After that she’d head back to Tyndall, track down Neal and reclaim the bonus with interest. If he’d already spent it, she’d enjoy taking it out of his hide.
She dragged her gaze from the vista before her and wheeled the bike down the ramp. She gave a quick glance around the area, and her gaze settled on a sapling. It was quick work to remove its branches with her knife and carry them over to the vehicle and lash them behind the back wheel. The ground was extremely soft, and groundcover between the trees looked scarce. That would leave a clear trail back to the ship unless she took precautions. After a few miles, she’d be able to remove the branches. Tien’s promised rainstorm should obliterate the wheel tracks completely after that.
Torrin adjusted her ponytail and threw one leg over the bike. She opened the throttle as wide as it would go, eliciting the deep roar that never failed to bring a grin to her face, and took off into the forest.
Chapter Two
Torrin sped through the trees; she was absolutely amazed at their size. They towered over her, hundreds of meters above, their canopies so dense that very little light filtered through the leaves. Little to no undergrowth existed to get in her way except the occasional mushroom. It wasn’t what she was used to seeing at all. Her home planet had very little in the way of forests. It was very open or at least the habitable parts were. But then, three-quarters of Nadierzda’s surface was covered with shifting seas of silt and sand.
The heads-up display in her helmet pierced the gloom under the canopy far better than her naked eyes, and she was grateful for the extra help it gave her as she raced between the trees at speeds in excess of two hundred kilometers an hour. She kept an eye on the map inset in the upper left corner of the HUD. The blinking light indicated that she was almost at her destination. The coordinates had included a time. She was a little late, but it had been terrific luck that she’d arrived with enough time to make the day’s meeting window. Her contacts wouldn’t have known exactly when she was to be expected. Neal had said something about sending word to expect her, but he wouldn’t have been able to give the princeling’s people more than an arrival window of a few weeks.
A break in the trees was coming up fast, and she throttled back slightly on the accelerator. She grinned with anticipation; it was almost time for her entrance. The HUD showed a structure and a man-shaped heat signature a short way beyond the break in the trees. As she hit the break in the trees, Torrin cut the throttle and leaned hard to her left, putting the bike into a long skid that ended right in front of the man standing in front of a squat guard tower. The bike’s rear wheel threw a long spray of dirt that barely missed the man. As the bike came to a stop, she hopped off it and swept the helmet from her head with a flourish, her hair bursting free from the confinement of the helmet.
Torrin was unprepared for the look of virulent disgust on the man’s face. She’d expected surprise or admiration, but nothing had prepared her for the look of total disdain that verged on outright hatred. The man looked at her as if his boot-scrapings had suddenly started talking. He stood there, in his pretty black uniform with its red piping and stared at her in disbelieving revulsion. The twitching little mustache that graced his upper lip looked more menacing than she would have expected for such a ridiculous affectation. He was shorter than she was. She supposed that might account for some of his issues.
The uniform was an incredibly overdone piece of conceit. Apparently the little man’s boss had decided to signify his importance to everyone via ridiculous amounts of ribbons and decoration. By the amount of eye-wrenching gaudiness going on, the princeling would be able to afford her fee. That at least was worth dealing with a little rudeness.
“Torrin Ivanov?” The man spoke, incredulous. “You are Torrin Ivanov?”
“In the flesh.” Torrin grinned to hide her misgivings. She ran her fingers through her hair, displaying her feminine attributes to their best advantage. Once again, his reaction mystified her. Most men couldn’t keep their eyes off her unless they, like Torrin, happened to prefer their own gender. She knew most men considered her attractive and had long ago honed that attraction into a weapon. Clearly, this little man couldn’t believe his eyes but not in a good way. He wasn’t wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to deal with her. He was wondering what in the universe this thing was in front of him.
“We’ve been expecting…” He paused, struggling with his words. “Someone. No one told me you would be—”
“Tall?” she said, flashing him a professional smile. “Red-headed, charming, riding a bike, an excellent blackjack player, vivacious—”
“Sure,” he interrupted when he realized she would happily keep throwing options at him. “All of those.” He steeled himself visibly, straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m Major Miles Yonkman, Colonel Hutchinson’s aide-de-camp. The colonel has been expecting you. I have transportation; we’ll take that.”
“Never mind that,” Torrin replied. “I’ve got my bike. I don’t need a horse.” Her mind raced. Colonel? Did the backwater princeling fancy himself a military man? And what was the deal with Yonkman? She didn’t like the way his last statement became an order or the way his eyes were roaming over her body now that his initial shock had worn off. He made no attempt to hide his
appraisal, and his attentions made her long for a shower.
“Horse?” Yonkman looked at her suspiciously, trying to determine if she was making fun of him. “Why would I have a horse? I have a truck.”
Apparently, she’d stuck her foot right in it. Though why he looked so put out that she thought he might be making the ride by horseback, she didn’t know. That was the preferred mode of transportation down here, wasn’t it?
“I won’t leave my bike unattended, so I’ll follow your vehicle. I hope that will be acceptable.” Torrin smiled winningly down at him. She was starting to really dislike the mustachioed little man. She didn’t need to like him to work with him, and she was willing to overlook all manner of personal shortcomings in order to turn a profit. However, his part in the local military chain of command only reinforced her suspicion that she wasn’t dealing with a normal tribal outfit.
“So I’ll follow you?” she prompted when she noticed that his attention was once again drawn to her physique.
“Absolutely. Try to keep up.” Yonkman strode over to a truck at the corner of the outpost. Pulling the helmet back over her head, Torrin got back on her bike. He reversed the truck a few meters past the structure, gestured peremptorily out the window for her to follow him, then sped forward to the other side of the small compound. She kept an eye on the outpost’s composition and staffing levels as she followed him more slowly. A keen habit of hypervigilance had helped her out of more than one tight spot in the past. The habit was now so ingrained that she was usually barely aware of it.
Depths of Blue Page 2