"I'm not sure he'd return my pings. I finally listened to his comms. He has a temper."
"Maybe not, then. If it helps, I don't think you're doing anything wrong," Nick said.
"I talked to Mom. She's in."
"Great, when will you get them started?"
"She wants to recertify her master's license, which I didn't even know she had."
"She's qualified on tugs?"
"Not specifically, but her flight hours from the service are all transferable. She was qualified to sail huge ships, although she mostly flew troop transports. According to Ada, Mom just needs to complete a series of tests and then take an instructor out for a sail. She could have it all done in a few weeks. Frankly, I'm glad to get Ada on someone else's tail," I said.
"No kidding. We should pay for the testing. It's a reasonable expense."
"That works. I got a consensus about shore leave. We'll schedule forty hours. I think Mom and Dad want to get out and see the sights. It's been a long time since they've been planet-side."
"Did you guys ever go to Mars when you were a kid?" Nick asked.
"Not that I recall," I responded, my mind unable to focus on the past with all that we had coming up. "What are you going to have Jack doing?"
"I've scheduled the Hotspur for dry-dock at Coolidge. We just need to unload it into the warehouse we rented and Jack can help with that. I was thinking we'd bring him on full time as crew."
"Absolutely. So did M-Pro say anything about the mech suits?"
"Not yet. I'm guessing that whoever was in charge of the review got busy with other things. I wouldn't feel good about selling them. But, I'm not handing them over if they don't ask."
"Agreed." After watching Dad in a mech suit, I hated the idea of losing them. "We should drop Mom, Dad and Ada off at Puskar Stellar orbital platform so they can start their shore-leave. The rest of us can deal with stowing cargo and setting up the habitation domes."
"Jack and I will bring the pod-jumper over to the warehouse and load the domes. We'll take Marny with us," Nick said.
"Tali know we're coming? I'd hate to surprise her," I said.
Nick chuckled. "She knows we're coming. We won't even be able to see her house from where we'll be sitting. She has a large plot of land."
"Likes her privacy, I guess."
"She gave me the choice. I thought we might be noisy neighbors and it would be better if we weren't too close."
"How long do you think we'll be there?"
"I told Tali we'd stay a maximum of three months and then find a more permanent location. We might be better renting apartments in Puskar or Coolidge. At least this way we have time to figure things out," he said.
I realized the thing we needed to figure out was about Tabby. Nick would never say it directly, but he knew our business was on hold until we knew what was happening with her. I'd successfully been able to get her condition out of my head for several days, knowing that there was nothing I could do. A cold lump in the pit of my stomach was my only reminder.
The energy level on the ship was high as I dropped everyone but Marny off at the platform. Nick had manufactured a portable grav-box for the cat. Filbert was Jack's responsibility and he wasn't letting him go anytime soon.
All of us would stay in the hotel until we got the habitation domes set up. I wished I could be there today when Jack experienced his first set of civilian clothes and walked around without his vac-suit. I hoped it would bring a smile to his face as he took in the sights. Both he and Nick had been slowly recovering from the death of their mother and today would be a healthy diversion from the grief.
The warehouse was fairly close to the orbital platform above Puskar Stellar. It wasn't anything more complex than a grid of rectangular steel boxes, although there were thousands of them. The facility was protected by a security patrol and, no doubt, other less obvious measures. This close in, however, Mars Protectorate could be expected to respond quickly if security problems arose.
I checked in with the security patrol and they cleared our approach. The warehouse had a convenient platform we could request be moved in front of our unit. It would give us positive surface onto which we could lock the aft section of the ship. We didn't need to worry about the ship drifting in space, but moving cargo would be enough to dislodge it if we weren't well tied in.
I pulled on my armored vac-suit and met Marny in the cargo hold. She gave me an approving look.
The warehouse had a full time stevedore supervisor and we were lucky she was available right away. It cost extra to use this warehouse service, but moving three hundred fifty cubic meters of crates was more work than we were interested in doing without help. Nick arrived a few minutes after the bots had started and we stood together, waiting for them to finish.
"I'll run the Hotspur over to Coolidge. See you in a few hours? I'll probably stop at the Veteran's hospital and see if I can get an update on the Hope's arrival," I said.
"Good luck," Marny said and clapped me on the back as I turned to go.
Set course for Coolidge Dry Dock. Negotiate arrival schedule, I instructed as I slid into my pilot's chair. It turned out there were three ship manufacturing plants in orbit above Coolidge, in addition to the Navy's own shipyard. Fortunately, my AI knew which one we were scheduled for. I certainly wouldn't have been able to find it on my own.
Thirty minutes later, I slid through a blue energy field and onto the deck of a hangar that could accommodate a ship at least twice the size of the Hotspur. I dropped the small backpack that contained my civvies by the air lock door and met a brown-skinned spacer on the scarred deck of the bay.
"Priyanka Lanka." He offered his hand.
"Liam Hoffen," I shook his hand.
"What are we working on today?"
I was sure that Nick had sent him a list of repairs, but I didn't mind answering his question.
"We had a collision with another craft and it ripped off the starboard wing and engine."
"An old British sloop like this is a real piece of history, such a beauty. Let's take a look," he said.
His arc-jets lifted him easily from the deck and I followed him up to the wing. Even though there were bright lights in the bay, the armor's absorptive skin made it difficult to make out the details. The Naval engineer's field patch stood out against the otherwise sleek lines. After flitting around the wing, he pulled up and sat on the edge of it.
"It's a shame we can't manufacture the old girl's armor. We can make her look good, but you'll be able to see the scar. On the positive side, it was a clean break. The impact must have been incredible to sheer this wing off. Mind telling me how she got this way?"
"We got run over by a much larger ship. My co-pilot saw it just seconds before it happened. If not for her quick action, we'd have been completely crushed," I said.
"Sounds like a heck of a ride. I didn't think that was even possible with transponders. Do you need us to inspect your electronics?"
"Won't be necessary," I said.
He gave me a quizzical smile but didn't push further. He hopped off the wing and jetted to the top to inspect the twin turrets that had been rendered inoperable by the collision.
"It could be worse. The turrets are easily manufactured. The cowls that covered them have been lost and without access to the materials for the armor, there's no good reason to replace them," he said.
I wondered how much less effective our stealth would be without the cowls.
"We've already provided an estimate for the interior work. Should I contact your partner, Nick James, once I work the numbers up?" Priyanka asked.
I wasn't sure what interior work he was talking about, so I touched the side of my earwig to engage my HUD projector without verbal direction. The AI had been listening to our conversation and understood I wanted to see the plans for the work he was referring to. A drawing popped up showing a new, narrow separation that had been added between the berth deck and the hold. On the port side was a permanent armory and on the othe
r, a hallway that led to the ship's only airlock. A new airlock door had been added between the hallway and the hold, in effect extending the living quarters to include the side exit and the armory. It was a nice upgrade. We would now be able to walk from the berth deck over to the starboard airlock or into the cargo bay without having to depressurize the entire hold.
"Sorry, I needed to review something. And yes, definitely contact Nick with the estimates. He'll copy me on them," I said.
"Excellent. Can I give you a ride over to the platform?"
"I'd appreciate it."
I grabbed my bag and we loaded into a highly polished, bright red passenger vehicle. I'd never sat in a vehicle as richly appointed and wondered how much it must have cost. Priyanka was solicitous, offering me a variety of drinks from his well-stocked bar and suggesting that he could arrange for entertainment planet-side. I turned him down, mostly because I didn't have a lot of experience with that sort of thing and didn't want to embarrass myself. While I was grateful for the ride, I was just as glad to be out of the vehicle and standing on the orbital platform.
I took the space-elevator down to the surface and changed into my jeans and blazer. I mostly wore the blazer to hide the fact that I was packing a flechette in a shoulder holster. It was completely legal on Mars, but I'd received funny looks in the past when I'd worn it on my belt.
Veteran's Hospital, I directed the cab I'd jumped into.
Downtown Coolidge was smaller than Puskar Stellar but its layout belied its founder's roots in the naval hierarchy. All of the buildings were neatly organized and spotlessly clean. Some sort of central planning board had probably made sure all buildings met the standard. The white structures with large glass panels were separated by well-manicured green spaces. For someone who had spent most of their time in space, it was as impressive as it was beautiful.
The cab dropped me in front of one of the buildings. I pushed my way through a swinging door and walked up to an information console.
I need information on Tabitha Masters. She should be arriving on the hospital ship, Hope.
I probably didn't need to stand at the console. My other option was to stand in the atrium talking to myself.
Liam Hoffen, access granted. Tabitha Masters arrived forty hours ago having been transferred from the Hope, my AI informed.
Locate Tabby, I want to see her, I said.
A translucent blue vapor trail led to a bank of elevators. My heart raced, she hadn't contacted me. Did that mean she hadn't regained consciousness, or did she not want to see me for some reason? I steeled myself. We'd get through this no matter what.
As I exited the elevators, I was intercepted by a middle-aged woman in a naval uniform.
"Mr. Hoffen?" she asked politely. She had, no doubt, been alerted to my presence when I signed into the information console.
"Yes, I'm here to see Tabby Masters," I said. Duh, I thought to myself. It's not like I was here to deliver pizza.
"I'm Sonia Lemaigre, I've been caring for Tabitha. I'm glad to have been here when you arrived. Could we talk?"
I accepted her offered hand. I recognized the golden comet pin on the collar of her grey shirt, which designated her as Lieutenant Commander.
"Certainly, Commander, and please call me Liam." I'd learned that it was appropriate to shorten titles in greetings.
She led me into a small room with several comfortable chairs. She sat on the edge of one and gave me an earnest look, then laid her hand on my knee.
"Liam. Tabitha is at the beginning of a very long journey. A journey that can be made easier with friends." She stumbled over what sounded like rehearsed lines. "May I speak plainly?"
"Please," I encouraged her.
"I understand that you and she are very close. We have a lot of experience with recovering veterans. Tabitha's personality profile tells us that she will adapt to her body's new configuration over time. What she will struggle with the most is rejection from her family group. Fair or not, Mr. Hoffen, your response is critical. To say it more plainly; if you're not in this for the long haul, it would be better if you simply turned around and left right now."
Blood rushed to my face and I started to stand involuntarily. Commander Lemaigre didn't rise with me, but sat, passively watching. For reasons not entirely clear to me, I wanted to punch her.
"I want to see Tabby," I said through clenched teeth. Annoyingly, she returned my stare with that same passive expression. I felt like she was studying me.
"Your anger is understandable, Mr. Hoffen. What happened to Tabitha is a tragedy. Please understand, you and I need to make sure we don't compound that tragedy. Perhaps you should take a few days to think about this. We have counseling available to help you. I'm not sure you're in any state to see her yet."
I found it hard to hear her words through the rushing sound in my ears, but I now recognized that she stood between me and Tabby. I needed to get hold of myself or I'd be locked out. I exhaled, sat back in the chair and focused on relaxing my hands.
After a few minutes I felt like I had recovered enough to speak. "I do not need a couple of days to figure out who Tabby is to me." I was surprised at how angry I sounded.
"Who is that, Mr. Hoffen?" she asked.
She had me there. I didn't have a word or single phrase that would adequately describe how I felt about Tabby. "Look. I don't know what you're looking for here. I don't have everything worked out, but if I know one thing, it's that I will not abandon Tabby."
"For her sake, I hope that's the case. By stepping back into her life right now, you are in a unique position to help her through this transition. If you get cold feet and abandon her, it will have a devastating impact on her life," she said.
"Will you let me see her now?"
"Yes, of course. She is currently asleep, but she has been asking about you."
It peeved me to learn that my attempts to contact Tabby had been blocked, but Lieutenant Commander Lemaigre was up and moving. I wasn't about to say something that could jeopardize me being able to see Tabby.
"She's right in here," she said, gesturing to a room with a wide door that was mostly closed. She stood back, making no effort to enter the room. If she thought I was lacking courage, she was nuts. I'd spent several days with Tabby while she was in the tank.
I pushed the door open and slipped into the room. I'd expected to see tubes and vid screens everywhere, but instead there was just Tabby, lying under covers, slightly elevated, with her head on a pillow. If not for her bald head that was just now growing a fine layer of fuzz, I could easily imagine that nothing had happened.
I took off my coat and holster, laying them on a chair. I kicked off my shoes and removed my prosthetic foot. From experience, I knew that her stumps would be almost fully healed at this point. They might be tender if she'd started working with a prosthetic, but I knew what I needed to do. I hopped to the side of her bed and lay on top of the covers, on her right side, where her arm was missing.
She stirred, but didn't awaken. I snuggled in next to her and laid my arm across her chest, like I'd done so often before. Unconsciously, she tipped her head toward mine and I felt the anxiety of the last several weeks finally start to drain from my body.
LEVELING THE FIELD
"Hoffen, wake up. You're drooling on me." Tabby's voice was raspy, like a loud whisper.
The smell of the hospital's sanitizer struck me first and then her face came into view. My back hurt from lying in a single, uncomfortable position all night. As soon as I adjusted slightly, I rolled off the bed and landed on the floor.
"Frak," I said. The pain helped my head clear and I picked myself up off the floor, grabbing my prosthetic. "How long have you been awake?"
"A couple of hours," she said. She was studying my face. "Did you really mean what you said to Sonia?"
I was sure I'd never heard that name before. "Who's Sonia?"
"Doctor Lemaigre."
"How do you know what we talked about?" I said.
"
It's part of my therapy. She recorded your conversation."
"That doesn't sound legal."
"She said that I was going to have a hard enough time dealing with my condition and I needed to know who was in my corner. You don't need to stay, Liam. I'd like more for your life than spending it taking care of me."
"That one was free, Tabby. You won't get another one," I said.
"What was free?"
"Don't play dumb, Masters. I don't want you questioning me on this. I'm here. You need to deal with it."
"Do you know what's weird?" she asked in a softer voice.
"Tell me."
"I knew you'd come."
I nodded. I didn't know what to say.
"Where are you with rehabilitation?" When I lost my foot, they'd given me a small amount of instruction and a subroutine for my AI. Otherwise, I'd been left entirely on my own.
"I spend a few hours a day with a prosthetic arm. It's hard to control and of course I can't feel anything, but they say I'll be able to pick things up once I get the hang of it."
"Any word from your family?" I asked. Something in the back of my mind suggested that her grandfather lived on Mars. I had an ulterior motive. Her family had real money and I hoped there was some possibility they'd pay for at least one of the optional surgeries.
"I've been exchanging comms with Dad. He's talking about making a trip out here," she said.
"I'd heard your Dad had holed up with a bunch of the refinery staff. Is he doing all right?"
"Yes. He wanted me to pass along his thanks for the warning."
"We got lucky," I said.
"You make luck, Hoffen." She smiled at me and it melted my heart. "But you have weird pillow talk."
"Yeah, sorry."
"So, I'm sure you already know that I've been discharged from the service," she said.
"That's the rumor."
"And that the Navy won't pay for reconstructive surgeries?" she asked.
"I'd heard that."
"Well, if you're thinking my family will come up with the money, you'd be wrong there. My dad would, if he actually had money, but Grandpa still owns the corporation and there's no way that's going to happen."
Smuggler's Dilemma Page 21