by M. D. Cooper
Ahead, the Havermere was just a small dot, and Katrina flicked a hand at the holoscreen, causing the display to zoom in and enlarge the ship.
The Havermere certainly appeared cut out for the job required. It consisted of a kilometer-long hull, which sported three-hundred-meter armatures at regular intervals. Mounted atop the body were large tanks and cargo pods; several spare pieces of hull were even strapped to its side with cargo netting. It was the epitome of a ship built for function over form.
Katrina pulled on her harness and sent a ping to the ship while she listened to Juasa getting dressed in the cabin behind her.
“I’ve signaled them,” she said over her shoulder.
“They’ll send you to a dock near the bow,” Juasa said as she floated into the cockpit and reached out to touch the holoscreen. “Here.”
“And so they have,” Katrina replied as the response came back. “It seems Captain Ferris sends his regards, and is glad you found a ride.”
Juasa snorted. “He better be glad. He may be a half-decent captain—when his ego and aspirations aren’t making him act like a flaming asshole—but he doesn’t have the first clue about repairing ships.”
“What about sleeping with clients,” Katrina asked. “What does he think about that?”
Juasa laughed, a soft bubbling sound of contentment. “I recall no sleeping.”
“Seriously,” Katrina said, hardening her aristocratic persona’s voice. “Will he call your judgement into question?”
“No,” Juasa snorted. “He’ll be jealous.”
Katrina laughed aloud, though inwardly she felt sorry for Juasa. This young woman was going to get hurt in the next few days. When all was said and done, she may not want to leave Bollam’s World, at least not with Katrina. Which was probably for the best anyway. Katrina’s mission was one of singular focus; not a joyride across the stars.
Katrina decided that now would be a good time to gauge Juasa’s reaction to rejection. “Perhaps it would be wise if we kept this tryst to ourselves.”
Sure enough, Juasa’s face fell. Whatever had happened between them had meant more to the crew chief than just some short fling to say thank you for a ride.
It was going to make what would happen aboard the Havermere even more painful.
Maybe there’s a way around this…
“Juasa, I have something to tell you…I haven’t been completely honest,” Katrina began, watching Juasa’s expression grow even more worried. “I’m not some wealthy upper-crust aristocrat—at least, not yet, anyway. I’m completely broke. I have no money.”
Juasa’s eyes widened; as Katrina suspected, that was not the revelation the woman had expected to hear.
“But…you have money, you bought all those clothes…”
Katrina shrugged. “I had to make Uriah think I had the money to pay for the repairs, which I don’t. I do, however, have tech that I can trade for them.”
Juasa’s eyes narrowed. “Ferris doesn’t like deals with trades, it can get messy—especially since you didn’t tell Uriah about that.”
“It’s because of what the tech is. It’s Streamer tech.”
Juasa sat back in her seat and shook her head. “Now it’s real messy. What is it?”
“Stasis pods,” Katrina replied simply.
Juasa let out a long whistle. “Well that takes the cake. I’ve seen a lot of interesting stuff come out of the Streamer, but never stasis pods…. Do they work?”
Katrina nodded. “Yup, I’ve used one.”
“Shiiiiiit, this is next-level crazy, Verisa. Dammit….” Juasa shook her head. “Just one stasis pod is probably enough to pay for everything—how many do you have?”
“Ten,” Katrina lied.
Juasa rubbed her hands across her face and through her hair. “Ferris is going to have trouble with this. He may claim your ship as Streamer salvage; KiStar has rights for that, you know.”
“’Streamer salvage’?” Katrina asked. Whatever that was, it was something she’d missed in her research.
Juasa chuckled. “A little set of laws that pretty much legalizes piracy here. Ships with SS rights can seize any ship coming out of the Streamer, and its tech. The burden of proof required to show that a ship actually did come out of the Streamer is pretty light, too. Your ten pods are more than enough for Ferris to lay claim to your ship—and you.”
That was just the outcome that Katrina feared, but she still had to deal with it. Getting the Voyager FTL-capable was imperative, and having a repair ship out with her in the black to do it was still better than coming into a station.
“So what are Ferris’s weaknesses?” Katrina asked. She knew the answer, but she wanted this to be Juasa’s idea.
Juasa’s eyes darted down, her gaze raking across Katrina’s body. “He wants to rise above his current station; he craves the idea of moving in more aristocratic circles. You would be a prime example of what he desires.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Katrina asked tentatively.
Juasa looked away and stared off into space for a minute before turning back to Katrina. “Stupid, right? We just met a few hours ago, but I feel like something clicked with us, Verisa. I’m not keen on sharing you for these few days we’ll have, but things won’t go well for you if we don’t do something….”
Katrina locked eyes with Juasa. “Something like me seducing Captain Ferris.”
“Yeah, like that.”
“Would it even work?” Katrina asked. “Would sleeping with him be enough to convince him not to turn me in, and maybe to get him to take a pod in trade?”
“Not on its own, no. You’ll have to persuade him. I’m not sure how, to be honest.”
Katrina nodded silently. She would have to work something out. Or simply take control of the Haveremere. With Juasa’s help, she didn’t anticipate that such a task would be too difficult; though it might be messy. That was, if she could convince the woman to turn on her own people.
A small voice in Katrina’s mind made the point that she was on a fool’s errand. It wasn’t as though the Intrepid really needed her help. This mission was about her, not them. Can I really disrupt these people’s lives in my own quest to find my friends?
Well, I didn’t choose to land here, in a system populated by thieves. I have a right to defend what’s mine.
A hand touched her arm, and Katrina turned to see Juasa looking at her intently.
“You do what you need to do, Katrina. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Katrina placed her hand over Juasa’s. “Nor you. I have a plan forming. You’re going to have to trust me. In the end, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
* * * * *
“My lady Verisa,” Captain Ferris said as Katrina stepped out of the pinnace, floating down the ramp on her a-grav boots—which Juasa had insisted she wear. She counseled that they would impress Ferris and add to his belief in her elevated social stature.
Katrina stopped before the captain and gave him a neutral smile while inclining her head. “Captain Ferris, I thank you for allowing me to come aboard your ship. I was not anticipating another long ride alone in my pinnace.”
Ferris appeared exactly as his personnel records had shown. He stood well over two meters tall—the child of generations of spacers—and his skin was almost translucently pale, as though his body produced no melanin whatsoever. However, his long blonde hair and pale blue eyes suited his coloring, and complimented the KiStar uniform well.
“Of course, of course,” Ferris replied as he offered his hand. “It is a pleasure to have you aboard the Havermere.”
Katrina placed her hand out, palm down, and Ferris awkwardly shook it. She sighed with thinly veiled disdain. “I trust you have suitable quarters for me?” she asked.
“Of course, of course,” Ferris replied and then looked up at Juasa. “Ju, get the lady’s bags and bring them to her quarters.”
“And where would those be?” Juasa asked dryly.
Ferris ga
ve her a cold look. “Next to mine, of course.”
Katrina was surprised to see Ferris behave so dismissively toward Juasa given the docking bay crews within earshot. From what she understood of the structure on a KiStar repair ship, Ferris didn’t exactly outrank Juasa. The animosity he just displayed would not be good for cohesion between the repair crews and the ship’s crew.
“You’re very lucky that the Havermere was available,” Captain Ferris said as he led Katrina out of the bay and into a utilitarian passageway. “We’re one of the most well-equipped ships in the KiStar fleet. Handling jobs like yours is our specialty. Just last month, we re-fitted a seven-klick ore hauler to have FTL capability. Its owners wanted to start selling our volatiles into other systems. It only took us nine days to get that ship ready to make its first jump.”
“That’s very impressive timing,” Katrina replied. “Do you expect to have things done that quickly with my ship?”
She knew it was more a question for Juasa, but the goal was to give Ferris the opportunity to feel important; something he seemed all too eager to do.
“Oh, we’ll have to see. I imagine a lady such as yourself has a much more refined vessel than some ore hauler. With a ship like that, we can bolt grav systems right on the hull. If your lines are any indication of your ship’s, we’ll want to be more discrete.”
Katrina replied.
Aloud, Katrina laughed softly, giving Ferris a confidence boost. “The Voyager is indeed a ship of singular beauty. I’m not interested in any work that will mar her appearance.”
“I should expect not,” Ferris said, pausing at a lift entrance and gesturing for Katrina to enter first. Juasa followed, giving Ferris a sickly sweet smile as she did so.
Ferris fought back a scowl, and waited for Katrina’s luggage to tag along on its floats before entering the lift.
Katrina imagined Juasa was trying to determine when that was. Based on how attractive Juasa was, and Ferris’s general demeanor, Katrina suspected the moment of rejection was at their first meeting.
“You’ll be on the executive deck,” Ferris said as the lift rose. “Our ship’s AI will ensure you have all access to schedules and feeds. I would, of course, be delighted if you’d join us in the officers’ mess for meals.”
“Of course,” Katrina said. “I trust that your cooks are capable of preparing suitable meals?”
A look of worry crossed Ferris’s face, and he glanced at Juasa as though he hoped she would tell him Katrina’s favorite dish. “Uhmm, of course, we have an extensive menu.”
Katrina placed a hand on Ferris’s arm. “Excellent, I look forward to sampling what you have to offer.”
She felt Ferris stiffen beneath her touch, then the lift’s doors opened and he stepped out into the passageway. “Of course. Your cabin is this way.”
He led Katrina down a corridor that was less utilitarian, but still far from ornate. Plain white bulkheads were painted with blue and purple stripes in the KiStar colors. The lighting was muted enough that the white bulkheads weren’t glaring, but the plain coloring wasn’t particularly welcoming either.
Katrina did have an errant thought of all the KiStar employees blending into the corridors with their matching uniforms, and bumping into one another repeatedly.
Ferris stopped at one of the doors, which opened silently.
“Your quarters for the duration of our trip,” he said, gesturing within.
Katrina swept past him and took stock of the cabin. It was large for a ship like the Havermere, but at just five by six meters, not excessively so.
It had a wide bed, drawers built into one of the bulkheads, and a table and desk, as well as its own san unit in a corner.
She turned back to the captain and Juasa, who still stood in the corridor, and nodded. “Excellent, captain. This will suffice until I get back on my own ship.”
Her cases floated in on the a-grav pad, and Ferris nodded with a wide smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Will you then join us this evening?”
“Perhaps,” Katrina replied. “I have spent the day operating on Tsarina’s local time, which puts this as the middle of the night.”
Ferris flushed and nodded. “Of course; I had forgotten that. No pressure, then.”
“Thank you,” Katrina said and sent a signal for the door to slide shut.
She settled onto the bed and stared out the porthole into space. In the distance, she could see the bright point of light that was Tsarina station in orbit of the frigid plutino beyond. Just one point of light amongst thousands in the system. Just one system amongst tens of thousands that humans now lived in.
The idea was still mind bogglingly hard for Katrina to adjust to. Less than a week ago—not counting time in stasis—she had been searching for the Intrepid in the dark of interstellar space, on the fringe of human expansion. Now, she was deep within the core human worlds.
Katrina sent her a smile over the Link.
Juasa didn’t respond for a moment and Katrina suspected that the woman was wondering why she was going through this for Katrina. Or rather, Verisa.
The KiStar crew chief’s willingness to suffer through indignities—rather than simply betraying Katrina and taking her share of the bounty that the stasis pods would be sure to bring—would tell Katrina how far she could trust Juasa.
Juasa said.
Katrina sent back a smile and cut the connection.
The bed called to her; it urged her to lay back and let sleep come, but Katrina knew there was too much to do. Her plan with Juasa may work, but she also needed a contingency plan.
Summoning her strength, Katrina rose from the bed and sat down at the desk, activating its holo-controls.
A display rose before her, giving her a menu of options to choose from—everything from basic ship s
tatus information, to food and entertainment systems.
Katrina tapped into those, and set a mental subroutine to flipping through those options and previewing the vids and sims. Then she placed a hand on the desk and sent a string of nano into its surface.
The tiny machines slipped through the surface of the desk and into its net interface. She harbored no doubts about the level of access her desk had; it would be locked down and limited in the extreme. However, those protections would all be managed by a software layer.
The desk itself would be wired into the same network matrix that ran other non-critical systems on the ship. And somewhere, that matrix would intersect with the systems that controlled the ship’s critical systems.
Once the nano was set on its task of searching out those physical connections—whereupon they would implant themselves in the physical conduit, and sniff the data passing through—Katrina set herself to investigating the ship’s AI.
Whether or not it was a true AI was something she needed to determine sooner rather than later. She had seen very few sentient AIs on the nets thus far in the Bollam’s World System. Those that she had seen were far from the strong mental presences she was used to when dealing with the AI aboard the Intrepid, as well as those who remained behind at Kapteyn’s Star.
She reached out to the AI—named Sam—with a query about the ship’s recreation facilities, and got a reply back that surprised her.
The AI’s attitude reminded her of Troy, and she felt a smile touch her lips.
Katrina wanted to laugh and mollify the AI, but that didn’t suit her persona.