Smuggler's Dilemma

by Jamie McFarlane

  "Mr. James, Mr. Hoffen, welcome," Commander Sterra said. Her tone was formal but her smile was warm. "May I introduce you to Rear Admiral Brock 'Buckshot' Alderson?"

  "Gentlemen," Admiral Alderson's deep voice filled the room. He stepped forward, holding his hand out.

  I shook it. I'd never actually met an admiral before, so I might have been a little dumbstruck.

  "Please, have a seat." He swept his hand over the table generously. "LaVonne, how about you get us started."

  Curiously, I looked at Commander Sterra. Once, she'd confided in me that only friends used her first name. I couldn't read her face as to whether the address bothered her or not.

  "Thank you, Admiral," she said. "Gregor, are we secure?"

  "Yes, ma'am," he replied curtly.

  "Very well. First, let me apologize for the clandestine nature of this meeting. I'm obligated to inform you that Mars Protectorate considers the information we're about to share to be a secret at our highest level. Sharing what we're about to discuss with anyone outside of this room will be considered treason and will be prosecuted to the maximum extent of the law. You may leave now, if these terms are not acceptable to you," she said.

  Nick stood up from the table. "Liam, I don't think we should be here."

  I stood with him, surprised at his immediate reaction. Sterra nodded her head slightly in understanding.

  Alderson put up his hands and said, "Hold on, gentlemen. I hate it when we lead with all that legal mumbo jumbo. The fact is Mars Protectorate needs your help and I'd take it as a personal favor if you'd listen to what the Commander here has to say. If you don't like it, you just need to keep it to yourselves."

  Nick looked back to me. "Do you want to stay? So far, the only thing we're doing is placing ourselves at risk. There's no upside."

  "Let's listen to what they have to say," I said.

  "For the last five years, Mars Protectorate has been gathering intelligence on the rising threat of the Red Houzi," Sterra started. "Until recently, the clan has limited their attacks to hit and runs, never staying in a single location for more than a few hours. The raids that culminated in the battle for Colony 40 and the destruction of our rapid response fleet, show a substantial change in their stance. We believe that the entire series of attacks that began at Anaimalai and ended at Colony 40 were orchestrated for one purpose. Would either of you care to hazard a guess as to what that purpose was?"

  "Simple. It was a trap," I said.

  "That's right, Mr. Hoffen. It was a trap," Admiral Alderson said, unable to contain himself. "The bastards wanted to make the statement that they could wipe out a Mars Protectorate fleet. Once word spreads to the other colonies, widespread panic will ensue. We can't possibly defend all of the colonies at once, and we have nothing to strike back against. In short, aside from reacting, we don't have a move."

  "How can we possibly help? You're the Navy," I said.

  "That's precisely why you can help. Believe it or not, your crew has a reputation for getting the job done. Your work at Colony 40, Baru Manush and most recently Jeratorn, show you to be just the sort of people who can help us," he said.

  As a born negotiator, I knew when someone was buttering me up and he was laying it on thick. Whatever they had in mind was going to be a doozy. I might as well move us along, so I took the bait.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "On Jeratorn, our intelligence assets discovered that the Red Houzi have constructed a base. We currently believe it to be in the Trojan or possibly Greek asteroids of the main belt," he said.

  He might as well have said he was looking for a grain of sand in either Coolidge or Puskar Stellar. The Trojans stretched out for a distance that was longer than the distance between the Sun and Jupiter.

  "Those are some big regions," I said.

  "That's true. But we believe we have an asset that knows exactly where they are located," Gregor said.

  "If you know where they are, why wouldn't you form up a fleet with the North American, Chinese, Indians and every other space-borne country and go get 'em?" I asked.

  "Well, that's the rub. This particular asset won't work with anyone but you," he said flatly.

  My stomach sank. I could think of only one person he could be talking about.

  "You can't trust her. She'd say anything to get out," I said.

  "We don't believe that Xie Mie-su actually has any real intelligence. Most likely the information she has is old and the Red Houzi have moved on. The problem is we can't afford to leave any stone unturned," Alderson replied.

  I was shaking my head. This was a bad idea. "Last time, she tried to kill us all. I don't see why we'd get involved in this, Admiral. I don't believe for a minute she's on the level."

  "Commander Sterra anticipated that you'd feel this way. I don't suppose I could get you to do this as a matter of civic duty?" he asked.

  Nick practically growled. He wasn't happy with any of this. "I think you used up all of our civic duty on Jeratorn."

  "The way I hear it, you made out pretty well on that trip. You claimed a mostly operational frigate, if I recall," Alderson said.

  "Respectfully, Admiral, we more than risked our lives on that job. And if you'll recall, Mars Intelligence substantially misrepresented what we'd be getting into when we agreed to it. If given the chance to do that again, I doubt we'd agree," Nick said.

  "Tut, tut. I didn't mean to offend. I only meant to point out that your dealings with Mars Protectorate have been plenty profitable," he said.

  "No profit is worth the life of any of our crew," Nick said.

  "How about if you could avenge the death of your mother? Prevent others from losing their mothers?" Alderson asked.

  This was over the top. "That's not fair. You can't put that on him."

  "No? What if we could arrange to restore Cadet Master's left arm?" he said.

  "What would you have us do?" Nick asked.

  "Nick, no. Tabby would never accept that," I said.

  Nick ignored me. "What's the mission?"

  "It's straightforward. You sail to wherever Xie Mie-su directs, scan the area and let us know what you find. If you find the dreadnaught, contact us and stick around until we can scramble a fleet to take it down," Gregor said.

  I crossed my arms and leaned forward. I didn't trust a one of them to be completely up front with us. "Why don't I think you're telling us everything?"

  "It really is that simple," he said.

  "And you'll agree to pay for Tabby's surgeries and regrow her arm?" Nick asked.

  Alderson's eyes lit up. He smelled a deal. "Only if you locate the dreadnaught."

  "You've admitted that you're sending us on a wild goose chase with a psychopath. There's no upside. Why would we do that?" I asked.

  "Because I'll be revoking your Letter of Marque if you don't. Carrot and stick, Mr. Hoffen," Admiral Alderson said.

  I sat back. I couldn't believe he'd stoop to this. Names that I would never say out loud swirled in my mind as I looked the man in the eyes.

  "Our ship's armor was damaged in the battle and we've lost a good deal of our stealth capabilities. We need intellectual property for that armor," Nick said.

  "Anything else?" Alderson asked.

  Nick didn't miss a beat. "Supplies - ammo, fuel, that sort of thing."

  "Done. You can work out the details with Lieutenant Belcose. I want you underway by the end of the week," Admiral Alderson said. As he rose, Sterra and Belcose stood with him. He walked out of the room without acknowledging us further.

  "Liam, Nick, I'm sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances," Commander Sterra offered once Alderson left the room. "Off the record, I don't like what we're doing here. I think it lessens us all. I understand the urgency, but I can't escape the morality of horse trading on Tabby's misfortune to achieve our ends."

  PRIMED AND READY

  When I got to the hospital, Tabby was back in bed working with her prosthetic arm, trying to pick up a variety of o
bjects on the sheet in front of her. The prosthetic wrist and fingers were clumsy, but she was making progress.

  "How'd chair training go?" I asked.

  "Patricia said I was doing really well. It's a lot like AGBs," she said.

  "Can I see?"

  "I need a lot of help getting into it. I'm not ready for you to see that," she said.

  "We could go for pizza if you did."

  She thought about it for a minute. "Okay, here's what I need you to do," she said.

  The arc-jet chair was pretty straightforward. A custom fit L-shaped seat came just under her bottom and two straps held her chest firmly to the chair. There were no arm-rests and she controlled the flight with both vocal commands as well as gestures she'd been working out with troll breath. Currently, she only had the basic commands, one of which was to maintain a level flight and orient her body next to another person.

  "We take a lot of things for granted when we walk with other people. For example, when you are in a hallway and there's not enough room, we compress into single file or even turn sideways slightly. It's all very natural for us. The problem is, you need to anticipate these things when you're in a chair," Tabby explained.

  "You're doing really well. I'm not even thinking about it," I said. "I'm not sure why they call it a chair, though."

  "You'll see," she said.

  "Megliano's?"

  "What?"

  "That pizza place I took you to last time," I said.

  "I don't know, it's a lot of people. Could we stay in Coolidge?" she asked. It made sense. There would be a lot of military types in Coolidge and they wouldn't think twice about a veteran in an arc-jet chair.

  "We have to walk," I said. The cool air of Mars had me pulling my gloves on, but I'd grown to appreciate breathing the non-mechanically processed air of the planet.

  Find nearby restaurants, Tabby instructed. "What's Mexican?" she asked.

  "Provence of the North American Alliance," I said.

  "Not where. I said what?" she retorted.

  "No idea. Let's do it."

  The arc-jet chair settled easily into the restaurant's chair. Small legs extended from the arc-jet chair, locked to the back of the seat and allowed Tabby to sit in a normal position. I helped slide her into the table.

  We discovered that our favorite part of Mexican food was the margaritas. It's not that the food wasn't good, it's just that the drinks came first. By the time the food arrived, neither of us was in any position to taste anything.

  If not for our AIs, we'd have had a difficult time getting back to the hospital, though it wasn't more than a few blocks away. The next morning I awoke to a stubby finger poking me in the chest.

  "Wake up, slacker. You're going to need to learn to take care of this equipment. If you think the Navy is going to replace this just because you're too drunk to put it away, you've got another think coming."

  I opened my eyes to troll breath looking down at me. I rolled off the bed, but landed more gracefully, having had a few mornings to practice the maneuver now. I looked around the room and noticed that we hadn't left the room in great shape last night. My prosthetic foot was in a heap right next to Tabby's arc-jet chair. I vaguely remembered helping her get out of it before passing out.

  I knew it wouldn't do any good to defend myself, so I hopped over to the pile and pulled on my foot. If I thought troll breath would give me a break because of my disability, I was wrong.

  "Do you ever clean that thing? I'd better not find that's how you're treating the chair," she said.

  I picked up the arc-jet chair and hung it back on its rack, next to the bed, feeling proud of myself for not knocking the woman back a few steps. Tabby was up and moving, looking as bleary eyed as I felt. I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

  "Tuesday's the barbeque. Can you let me know if we're going - sometime today? I need to tell Tali," I said.

  "Oh, she's going," I heard from over my shoulder.

  I winced. I should have known better than to say anything in front of this woman. Tabby rolled her eyes at me and I suspected we'd be talking about that later.

  "Don't be rolling those eyes at me," Troll breath continued. "You're going if I have to drag you there myself."

  "Sorry," I whispered and scooted out of the room.

  I found Nick and Marny seated at the mess table in the central habitation dome. They looked up expectantly when I came through the door.

  "You want some eggs, Cap?" Marny asked, as I walked through on my way to the head. The very thought of eggs made me nauseated. I mumbled "No," shut the door, and stripped out of my civvies. I dropped my suit-liner into the freshener and stepped into the shower. The hot water made me feel better - if not substantially.

  After showering, I grabbed a cup of coffee in the mess. Nick had a bemused look on his face and Marny couldn't stop from asking the obvious question.

  "Cap, you hung over?"

  "Margaritas turned into shots of tequila last night. My head is pounding."

  Marny opened a cabinet, pulled out a med-patch and handed it to me. "You need to drink more water," she said.

  With the patch applied and a few minutes sitting with my head in my hands, the cacophony finally subsided.

  "Nick tell you what's going on?" I asked.

  "I wasn't sure if you wanted to read your dad in or not," Nick said.

  "Where is he?"

  "Visiting some friends. Said he'd be back in a couple of days when your mom and Ada got back," he said.

  "Have you talked to the shipyard?" We were past the planning stage and needed to get on with our preparations.

  "Belcose sent me the pattern for the Hotspur's armor last night. They'll be done by Thursday."

  "Navy's not getting their hands on it, are they?" I asked. Last time our ship was at the Navy's shipyard they'd installed all manner of spyware on it.

  "No, but maybe we should ask Bit to sweep it before we take off," he said.

  "Any ideas on how we're going to keep track of Xie Mie-su?" I asked.

  He gritted his teeth. This wasn't going to be a fun trip. "She'll be restrained, we're putting her in cuffs."

  "We won't need a brig?"

  "The ship will monitor her and if she gets close to any person or control surface, her movements will be substantially restricted or she'll receive a shock. Apparently, they're pretty effective," he said.

  "Can we up the voltage?" I quipped, causing Marny to chuckle. "Marny, can you work out what we need to get those suits fully operational? M-Pro said they'd provide ammo and I think we need to take advantage of it."

  "Aye, Cap. Can do," she said.

  "Tabby's being released from the hospital at the end of the week," I said. "I was thinking she could come along. We could modify one of the pilot's chairs.

  "Is she recovered enough?" Nick asked.

  "I think so and we could use help with watches. I don't want to tell her about any surgeries until it's certain. I'll talk to her about it tonight, if you're good with it. I also think there's a pretty good chance she'll come to the barbeque on Tuesday."

  "I'd really like to see her," Nick said.

  It was early afternoon when I got back to the Veteran's Hospital. Tabby had pinged me to let me know her physical therapy had finished early, but Patricia (aka troll breath) was requiring her to go out again. Apparently, I'd earned brownie points by taking Tabby to the restaurant last night. Unfortunately, I'd lost a lot of those points by getting her drunk.

  Tabby was seated in a chair, working on picking up small items with her prosthetic when I walked in.

  "How'd it go today?" I asked.

  "We spent a lot of time working on getting in and out of the chair, it's really frustrating. Patricia says I need to spend more time working with my prosthetic arm."

  "So, about the barbeque tomorrow. I'd really like us to go. Jack will be there. He's had a rough time with it all. I think he'd really like to see you."

  "What about Nick?"

  "Of cou
rse, he'll be there."

  "Okay. You have to promise you'll bring me back right away if I ask, though." Tabby wasn't scared of much, but her eyes told me this trip might be too much.

  "You have my word," I assured her. "Have you thought much about where you'll stay after they release you?"

  "I have a stipend for housing. I figured I'd get an apartment here in Coolidge," she said.

  "Would you consider taking a trip with us? M-Pro wants to send us on a wild goose chase."

  "Let me think about it, okay?" she said. I couldn't wait until she regained her confidence. Tentative Tabby broke my heart.

  "Of course," I said. "But, one more thing."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah. We're going shopping this afternoon. I thought it might be a good warmup."

  She looked down at the table and sighed.

  "I'm sorry. I can cancel it. You've already agreed to the barbeque. Let's leave it at that," I said.

  "No, it's okay. I know you're doing it for the right reasons. It's just hard, Liam. I've always been large and in charge, and now I'm… well… I don't know what I am," she said.

  "You're the same person you've always been, Tabby."

  "That's not true. I'm not. I can't do the things I used to. I'm not whole."

  "Maybe I'm looking at this too simply, but we'll get through it," I said. "So, are you ready to get going?"

  "Now?" she asked.

  "Trust me," I said.

  I hailed a cab and it took Tabby a couple of tries to get in successfully. She could have allowed the AI to do the work, but she was more interested in gaining skills.

  The cab dropped us off in the Open Air District.

  "Where are we going?" Tabby either loved or hated surprises, I wasn't sure which it would be in this case.

  "This way," I said.

  The brick streets of the Open Air District were lined with small shops, all with colorful awnings to shade shoppers from the afternoon sun. The shop we approached had a simple sign that read 'Kathryne's Boutique.' An elegant, middle aged woman sat outside in a comfortable chair and watched us approach.