by Alan Black
Fugget must have read the message as a real question, offering him assistance. His face popped up immediately in live communications. “Ensign Sixteen, I’m glad you responded. We need your station to increase your scanning range, we need to be able to track these slavers.”
York nodded. He knew the station already scanned the entire solar system. With Liberty only eight or nine hundred thousand kilometers away, they easily could keep the planet well within their net. Since the station scans were set on passive, the only way for a ship to leave or arrive would be to use the planet as a screen. Passive scans only gave the station line of sight views. It would require active scans to see into the planet or moon’s shadows. Upgrading to active scans required Commander Paul’s express orders.
“Come on, York. Give us a hand here.”
“Do you have the exact times of the last attack?”
“Forty-eight to fifty-six hours ago.” Fugget said. “They could be anywhere by now. We don’t know which direction to look for them or have the means to stop them the next time they come in on a raid.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about this attack. We should’ve seen something. The automatics should have recorded the ship movement in the solar system, even if the movement wasn’t enough to hit scan perimeters. There isn’t any record of a ship coming or leaving the atmosphere, or at least none I remember seeing in the comms logs. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Let me know if you need help finding anything in your database.”
York looked baffled, “I didn’t think you were a communications technician.”
Fugget shrugged, “I’m not. I’m a data-bug exterminator. I find computer database bugs and kill them. I’m better than good at data mining. We need to find these slavers and killers. We need to find them and stop them.”
Something tickled York at the base of his spine. “I’ll do what I can to help you find and … stop these people.” He almost said ‘remove’ these criminals, but changed to ‘stop these people’ at the last second using the same language as Fugget.
He signed off and grinned. Here was a whole group who required removal from his universe. He didn’t have to think about his judgment and worry whether this man or that woman deserved removal. Fugget had just asked him to do it for the good of a whole planet. All he had to do was find them, plan their deaths and remove them. He didn’t even have to do it in secret this time.
FOURTEEN
York slammed his fist on the communications console. He hadn’t been on duty during the last slaver attack. Commander Paul had been officially monitoring their gear. There wasn’t any record showing Paul hadn’t been on the job. There also wasn’t any record of any space craft approaching or leaving Liberty during the slaver attack.
The only possible way a slaver could hide under those conditions was for them to hide their inbound and outbound flights behind the bulk of the planet. That was possible if they came in under full power, attacked quickly, and blasted away before the curve of the planet made them visible to the station. However, coming in under such high levels of power should have alerted Liberty’s anti-smuggling satellites.
He was frustrated with the logs. Nothing was reported and no matter how many times he went through the recordings there wasn’t any blip inbound or outbound. He briefly wondered if the slavers were truly aboard a ship and not planetary. Knowing Fugget, he rejected the idea. The master chief would have found them if they were on the planet.
Calling Fugget only took a moment. When the man appeared on the screen, he was covered in dirt and sweat. “What? Oh, good morning, Ensign Sixteen. How goes the hunt?”
“I can’t find any trace of a spacecraft during the time frame. I’m sorry, Fugget.” York was truly sorry, he sorely wanted to find these slavers.
“May I send you a special program to use?”
“You know I can’t download an unapproved program onto a military database. Maybe we can run it when the 44th is up here on their next deployment.”
“We won’t get there for a month and a half, Ensign. Look, sir, don’t download it. You can run it right from your dataport. It’ll just run through the info scanning for anomalies that a human can’t see, not even me.”
“I’ll do it, but know this Master Chief Fugget, if I get my butt in a crack using your program, it won’t make me happy.”
“Yes, sir,” Fugget said. “Trust me on this. The program won’t insert anything into your database, it’ll just pull certain types of information out of the database for analysis. It won’t even keep the data if you don’t want to save it.”
Looking closely at Fugget’s screen image, York said, “Are you feeling all right, Fugget? You look worn out.”
Fugget shrugged, “We’re just doing a cattle roundup for some neighbors. It’s hot and heavy work.” He looked at York through the screen as if his eyes could bore deeply into York’s thoughts. “Did you get the station’s scans extended?”
York shook his head. “No. We’re still pushing on passive scan. I got approval from Commander Paul to increase from passive to active scans based on your data, but it only lasted for a day before he rescinded the order and put us back on passive. I don’t know why he backed off. The slavers wouldn’t be able to hide behind the planet if we were on active scans.” York shrugged, discussing everything with his supervisor using texts and emails was frustrating. He still hadn’t seen the man after all of these months. He knew Paul really existed as he watched him on security videos in the galley and at work. The man rarely left his quarters when he wasn’t on duty and York had no video feeds there.
Fugget asked, “Do you think it would help if I got the planetary governor to request you switch to and remain on active scans?”
York shook his head. “I tried that. Actually, the governor thought going to active scans was a great idea since it would help with his smuggling interdiction plans. He sent the request through to my boss and reported back to me how Commander Paul would authorize the change. Nothing has happened on this end, even though I sent through a message asking about the status of the request.”
Fugget said, “I sent the program file. You run it and let me know what you find.” The man looked around, lowered his voice and added, “Say, could we set up the use of a civilian shipping bay for import goods? We have a load of inbound goods and we need a place to store it for a couple of weeks”
York shook his head, “This is for you and Ernie?”
Fugget shrugged and nodded his head.
York said, “It doesn’t take a genius to know what you two are up to. I don’t want to get involved in storing illegal goods.”
“The goods are legal, both on the planet they come from and on Liberty. Honest, it’s mostly off-planet spices and a few dressmaking goods: bolts of cloth, ribbons, and buttons. We just don’t make some stuff on Liberty yet. The military doesn’t have any responsibility to collect or even watch over planetary import duties and taxes.”
“As long as there is no contraband material, I have no problems. Have your inbound ship captain contact me as the liaison officer and I can get him a berth. We won’t have many entertainment facilities for his crew, but we can store your goods.”
“Great.” Fugget looked relieved. “Ernie and I should be able to get them before the Gambion returns to the system in a couple of weeks.”
“The Gambion is coming back?”
Fugget laughed. “I guess you didn’t hear. They should be here from the fourteenth through the thirtieth of next month. Yeah, this is typical military. You hear the scuttlebutt long before you get the real scoop.”
York nodded, “I’ll just chalk it up to operational security.”
Fugget snorted. “OpSec, my ass. I heard it from a stable boy at the Altamont’s place last week.”
“I guess that’s better than hearing it from someone who’s unstable.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” York said. “How are Kenna and Chrissie?”
“You
should take leave and come down to visit them. Saorsa City will be at the Altamont’s place when the Gambion is in orbit. We should have a right ripping good gathering. People for miles around show up for an Altamont party.”
“I might be able to catch a ride on a Gambion shuttle.”
Fugget shook his head. “Ernie and I will come and get you. Word is that the Gambion is going to settle into planetary orbit rather than tie up at the station. I gather their captain would rather give his crew planetary liberty than turn them loose on a station with limited facilities.”
York said, “How much will Ernie charge me for the ride down and back?”
“Nada, my friend,” Fugget laughed. “He’ll be out of the atmosphere anyway shuttling skyriders up and giving kids rides into space, so picking you up isn’t anything more than repaying a favor to a friend. And the missus would skin my backsides if I didn’t offer you our guest room for your stay.”
York filed the comment away about being a friend for later study. “Dammit. The scan program you gave me says there wasn’t any ship in Liberty’s orbit anywhere close to the time frame of the last attack.”
Fugget scowled, “I don’t get it. You have better than commercial grade equipment. You should be able to see an asteroid scratch its ass.”
“I don’t get it either. They could hide behind the planet, not … wait. What the …? It looks like the system was running, but there are a couple of power drops. We were scanning at a million klicks, but we weren’t using enough power to see even a tiny fraction of that distance. And dammit, the whole thing happened right in the middle of my shift. I know I didn’t turn down the power. I know because I’ve never touched the volume controls. I’m going to have to dig into this and get back to you on it.”
Fugget signed off. Before York could turn around from the console communicator, a message popped up from Commander Paul. The text simply said, “All personal communications should be limited to off duty times.”
York texted back, “Yes, sir. Recent communications were with Master Chief Fugget of the 44th Naval Reserve discussing their next deployment. Also, discussing ship scanning for government smuggling and slavery interdiction.” He knew he was stretching the truth, but they had discussed, albeit briefly, the next time the reserves were coming to visit. Changing the subject would be appropriate, “Requesting leave for planetary liberty.” He gave the dates for the time the Gambion was going to be in the system.”
Paul’s text reply said, “Approved with caution. Liberty is a third-level colony populated by society’s cast offs and its dregs. Entertainment and amenities are limited. Further communication regarding planetary government scanning requests must be forwarded to appropriate station authorities.”
York laughed. The duty logs listed him as the liaison officer for the planetary government. He was the appropriate authority. He wasn’t sure he would pass anything along to Commander Paul again, if it could be avoided. For all he knew the man was in league with the slavers. Someone on the station was. He knew he wasn’t and Commander Blaque was drunk too often to be involved in anything except running his own distillery. For all York knew, Commander Paul might even be keeping an underage sex slave in his quarters.
The man had better watch his back.
FIFTEEN
York stepped onto Liberty, easily walking down the shuttle’s ramp, realizing that for the first time in his life he was stepping foot on a planet different than the one he was born. The feeling was odd. He knew some people might think it strange his having the feeling of a new experience for a man who grew up in a space travelling society. He was thrilled about setting foot on a strange new world.
Adding to his lighthearted feeling was that he had spent the past few months living and exercising in higher than standard gravity. Liberty was less than standard. He noted a slight lightheaded feeling as if he would float away or the contents of his stomach might not stay down. He knew the minor bout of gravity sickness would soon pass. It always did when he ran the gravity dial up and down the scale, fluctuating the station’s gravity as his whimsy dictated.
Fugget waved at him from across the little landing field. York expected a spaceport. Instead, Ernie set down in what looked like a pasture. He hoped it was an empty pasture as the shuttle would have flattened anything it landed on. He still wasn’t familiar with farm animals. He’d looked up cattle and horses in an encyclopedia database to understand the history of the old freighter the reserve unit was fixing. Fugget had called it a cattle hauler. He recognized the cattle and horses from the picture hanging on the wall in the New Hope police station during his meeting with the late commandant. Still, he didn’t have any personal experience with either one.
York waved back and carrying his small valise, walked across the field. He stopped partway there and bent down. There was a rock stuck in the dirt. He’d walked on dirt parade grounds at the Yards and the orphanage had a large grassy playground, even so, they were as smooth and flat as asphalt. This was a real rock, natural and rough, laying in the ground right where creation had left it. The small stone wasn’t set in a fancy rock garden, stuck into a wall as decoration or painted and lining a walkway. How could a man live to be in his early twenties and not see something as simple as a small stone it its natural setting? Somehow, the whole idea seemed absurd.
He put the rock in his pocket as a souvenir. He doubted anyone would complain about him taking a single small rock, but he would be sure to ask. He didn’t have any mementoes of his life to date. He planned to write the name of the planet and the date on the rock later. Someday, he might have a whole souvenir rock collection, one for each planet he visited. His reading on serial killers, a study of personal reflection, had led him to researching souvenirs. Those demented killers, almost without exception, collected some small trinket from each of their victims. The whole idea made York smile. He knew it was proof he wasn’t an insane serial killer. He didn’t want anything from those he had removed and none of them was a victim, they deserved what they earned and society was better off without them.
When he was within shouting distance, Fugget called out, “Welcome to Liberty, Ensign Sixteen!”
York grinned and held out his hand to shake. Being eager about this handshake, only the second one in his life and the first time he’d offered one, was as absurd as getting keyed up over free rocks. As Fugget gave his hand a mighty shake and a squeeze, he said, “Call me York. Ensign Sixteen seems a bit too formal since I’m on leave.”
Fugget said, “You can call me Jim if you like.”
A short dark woman stepped around him and wrapped her arms around York in a hug. “Fugget, you idiot, you know that not even your mama calls you Jim.” She was exceptionally pretty, small where her husband was large, yet as a pair they looked like chocolate frosting on chocolate cake.
York didn’t know what to do, so he hugged her back, hoping Fugget didn’t object to his squeezing his wife in public. “Ma’am, um … nice to meet you?” The statement was more of a question than a greeting.
Fugget said, “Excuse her manners. This is my wife Mimi. The poor girl has a hugging fetish and just can’t help herself. That’s why we have nine dogs around the place. They give her something to hug besides me so she doesn’t rub all of my skin off.” He was laughing as he said it and his wife joined him with a tinkle of laughter like glasses tinkling.
Mimi said, “Yep, that’s me. Someone said ‘Mimi Fugget’ and I said ‘Yes, I will’.”
A pack of dogs yowling and yapping spared York from responding. They raced around the side of a small building nearby. He wasn’t so much of a city boy that he didn’t recognize a dog when he saw one, yet he was amazed to see such a wide variety of dogs, from tiny ten pounders to some looking bigger than Mimi. He was more than amazed to see them running free, not on leashes, tied by a chain or secured behind a strong fence. He braced himself as a big black dog, all teeth, claws, and fur jumped at his chest.
York dropped his valise and caught the dog in mi
d-air. He was tempted to wring its neck and toss it aside, until it licked his face looking happy to be held. He wasn’t sure if the dog was just giving him a quick taste prior to taking a bite or if the lick was just the dog’s way of being friendly. Mimi was laughing so he assumed the dog wasn’t dangerous enough to kill.
“Dammit, Vesper! Get down,” Fugget shouted. “Frakking dog thinks she’s a lapdog, even though she’s the size of a small horse.”
York put the dog down. Other dogs vying for his attention almost bowled him over. Vesper edged between the other dogs and pushed them away by force of her own size. He bent to pick up his valise and found that Vesper already had the handle in her mouth and was trotting around the building to the other side.
Fugget said, “Well, that does it. When a dog invites a stranger into the master’s house, the stranger is a stranger no longer.” It sounded like he was quoting some ancient philosopher, although York was not familiar with the quotation.
Mimi said, “York, you come on in the house and let’s get you settled in. We have the guestroom almost cleaned up for you.”
Fugget and his wife lead him around the side of the building. From the back, it looked like a typical block and plate structure. From the front side it looked like someone’s country home. It had an extended porch with a small roof protecting some comfortable looking furniture from the heat of the noonday sun. Vesper disappeared into the building through a short portal that would be too small for a young child.
York reached down to grab the dog and retrieve his valise before it disappeared too far into the building, but the minute his hand touched the opening, he got a quick, light electrical shock.
“Easy there, York. We keep the fields up so only our dogs can come in and out of the dog door. It wouldn’t do to leave it unprotected from the local canines or mountain lions.”
Mimi snorted. “It ain’t likely a mountain lion will get within a hundred miles of this pack of dogs you call pets.”