Better to Beg Forgiveness-ARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  And while he was musing, he'd led the way to the top. Two meters of corrugated decking separated the top of the ladder from the hatch to the bridge. Once stacked, they swarmed up and forward, and he grabbed the lock.

  It wasn't necessary to hit as a unit, they hoped, and it was necessary to get across the space fast in case they were seen. One man opening the hatch wasn't too out of place. Seven would be. So he undogged it as the rest slipped up behind him, Alex guarding the rear, then pushing past to be up front. The latch came free, Alex nodded, and he pulled it open.

  * * *

  Deep breath, Alex thought and did, focusing.

  Then the hatch popped out.

  "Hi, we're hijacking your ship," Alex said as he stepped into the cabin. He only had a pistol. On the other hand, the crew had nothing. Bart and Aramis crawled through behind him.

  "Excuse me?" one of the officers said. He moved toward an alarm button and Bart zapped him. The man tripped on his console and was sprawled in a moment, flat on the deck.

  "We're hijacking your ship. Do you want to live or die?" He waggled the pistol.

  A sturdy blonde woman at the far side, presumably the captain, raised her hands and gestured for calm. The two others, both women, complied, but kept looking from her to Alex and back. Their comrade groaned and started coming around. That was good. Killing anyone would screw the deal. The team spread out to cover all angles, though there wasn't much here. Alex noted large screens all around the hemisphere, control consoles with both wired and wireless connections that were modular and could be shifted around to the couches. There were lights focused on these couches and indirect illumination of moderate intensity elsewhere.

  The woman said, "I am Captain Schlenker. Do you expect to get away with this, Mister . . . ?"

  "Smith will do," he said. "Yes, I expect to get away with it. For three reasons." He let that hang.

  "Yes?" she prompted.

  "One, there's no need for violence. We just need a ride. Two, that ride is to Grainne, where you're heading right now. And three . . ." He waved a hand behind him, Elke stepped out, and dumped a bag of UN marks and bullion over the deck.

  "We plan to pay you to continue with your flight and just keep silent."

  After a moment's silence spent staring at the drifting pile, Schlenker said, "That is the most fucked-up method of hijacking I've ever heard of."

  "We get that a lot," Alex grinned. "Do we have a deal?"

  "We have a deal not to start trouble or scream for the military while you explain what's going on," she said.

  "Done."

  Everyone relaxed. It was obvious "Smith" and his cronies could cause a lot of trouble. However, declining to do so indicated . . . something other than piracy.

  "Still, I require that everyone stand over there," he gestured. "And you come here so I can explain this quietly, Captain."

  She didn't look thrilled, but complied. He couldn't blame her. Cash on the deck was not cash in the bank, and nothing legal was going on. He stopped her at arm's length and handed her a sheet of actual paper, with the outline printed on it. Roughly, it said they were escorting a contractor, escaped from what amounted to indenture in Kaporta with their medieval laws on labor, and needed to get him beyond extradition range.

  Shaman was with the President in the back of the group, keeping him somewhat hidden. The captain looked at them, reread the paper, and said, "And how do we do this, Mister Smith?"

  "Simple," he said. "Two of my people stay up here all the time. No one does anything stupid, or mentions it belowdecks or on radio. We aren't wanting to hurt anyone, but we are determined to get there, and quietly. No one tries to talk to us and reason with us about how hard it will be to debark. That's our problem. We'll give you fifteen thousand now, mixed gold, palladium, and cash, and the balance upon arrival."

  "Balance?"

  "Hundred thousand total. If all goes well, our charge will give you an additional amount."

  "And I take your word on that?"

  Alex looked at Jason. "Pilot, show them the course to Grainne."

  Jason nodded, handed his pistol to Aramis, strode over to a station, and began punching in coordinates, boost rates, and fuel expenditures for the jump point.

  "You have a safety margin of eleven point three eight percent," he said as he worked.

  "Eleven point four, but I get your meaning," Schlenker said. "You don't need us." She didn't seem scared.

  "Not at all," Alex said. "Just a ride."

  "If you're so decent, what's to stop us from making a scene?"

  "If we're so decent, you don't need to. If we're not, you're risking escalation from bribery to piracy. I leave the call to you, but we are determined to get there. Pilot."

  Jason said, "We'll debark at Jump Point One as passengers, and be out of your hair. We obviously know our way around a port. Since it's Grainne, we'll just declare ourselves and walk off. You don't need to declare the cash, except maybe to your company. That's between you and them. If it helps, we can not reference your ship. No trouble with Grainnean soldiers, no trouble with Station Ceileidh security. Our people meet us. You'll have your cash, and if the rest of our travels go well, you'll have the bonus for being gracious hosts."

  "Tell me honestly why you're doing this," she insisted, eyes hard.

  "Let's say we had a mixup with the UN over our contract, and don't want to debate the situation. They wanted a peaceful resolution, and we don't do that well." It was a believable story, and had happened before.

  She nodded. "Fair enough. As long as you do it well here."

  "I think we'll get along fine," Alex said. "Pilot, you and Babs will stay here for first shift. We need a safe stateroom for the trip."

  "Our staterooms hold four," Captain Schlenker said.

  "We'll be fine with seven in one, since two will be here at all times. That gives us five in one stateroom."

  "You value your privacy and don't want to be split up," she said. Well, no one expected a captain to be stupid.

  "We are professionals at arms, Captain. I advise against testing us. Really."

  He hoped she'd take that advice.

  Nodding, she said, "Mister Radaman, please show our guests to the stateroom." She turned and said, "We have one unused stateroom, one deck down. That will have to do, unless you'd rather displace me or some of the crew."

  "That will be fine," he agreed. "We will retire there now."

  * * *

  Elke and Jason looked at each other and around, as they were left with the four crew on duty. Captain Schlenker glanced at them from time to time, but generally stuck to her console. An older redhead recovered the loot from the deck and counted it. She looked to be decently shaped even inside her coverall. He acquired her name from conversation. Gina, deputy captain and astrogator. She got called below a few minutes later.

  "They need me in sick bay," she said on her way, not really asking permission, but assuming. "I'm a trained nurse, too."

  "Who's hurt?" he asked suspiciously.

  "One of yours." Her eyes were flinty.

  Alex called right at that moment, doubling the surprise. The two of them stayed in contact, not trusting the crew even after a bribe. The ship was close to port and could easily divert. He'd made a point of keeping a close eye on navigation, just in case. The combination of all those factors triggered his alertness to a level close to "fight."

  "Yes?" he replied at once on radio.

  "Kiddo is in sick bay. He was worse off than he let on, the dumb shit."

  "Fuck. Will he be okay?" The kid was annoying but good. He didn't want to lose him. He gestured to Gina, who nodded acknowledgment and slipped through the hatch.

  "Hoping so. While it looks nasty it shouldn't be life threatening."

  "Keep me informed, please. Gina is on her way."

  "Of course, and thanks for confirming. Out."

  Jason pondered that. So far, that was the worst wound they'd suffered, but far worse was possible at any time. He felt
himself getting old fast.

  Thirty minutes later, Schlenker said, "We are increasing to one standard G boost," over the intercom and net. She looked at Jason as she said it.

  "Understood," he acknowledged.

  Thrust increased and then steadied. After checking her console, she secured from it, rose and headed aft.

  "Going below," she said.

  "See you next shift," he agreed. After she left, he commented to Elke, "Four hours to go."

  Elke said softly, "I expect we'll change before that, without notice. No need for them to know our schedule. I also expect regular support visits."

  "Undoubtedly," he replied. "Alex is good at schedules. I'm sure it'll be fine."

  Sure enough, they were relieved two hours and seventeen minutes early by Shaman and Bart. That was a pair to intimidate anyone.

  "Everything has been cleared," Bart leaned close and informed him quietly. "The reason you have not had a rest break was because a tour of the ship was necessary. The supplemental transmitters in Engineering have been disabled. The crew is not happy, but believes we mean what we say. Boss is patrolling with Bal to make him look normal."

  "Good," he replied. "How's Ar— the kid?"

  Shaman said, "Muscle damage, nerve damage, hemorrhage, muscle and bone, but he'll survive. His condition has made the crew somewhat nervous, as it was clearly the result of a firefight. They know we have inflicted casualties." He looked a little worried himself. Elke had a neutral expression that he'd learned meant she was worried, too.

  "Well, at least they know we're serious," he shrugged. "And I'm glad he's going to heal. Back we go."

  It was going to be a long fourteen days, he thought. Eight days of hard boosting until they reached Jump Point One, the only jump point this system had so far, and then six more days across Sol System, braving serious danger, to jump to Grainne, where they could freely and safely broadcast that Bishwanath was still alive. They still didn't know if that would matter once they did, but there were places to get lost in the Iota Persei system where people with skills could survive well paid and discreetly. As long as they got there . . .

  The stateroom was about what he expected. The others seem to have expected something more glamorous. It was a typical stateroom, with two stacks of two bunks with G harnesses rolled against the bulkhead, lockers under the bottom bunks, and enough space to stand between them. One end had a fold-down dining table/desk, a heating unit/refrigerator combo, and a door into a restroom with a shower, lavatory, and a toilet that pulled up from the deck on a lever. The door was a polarizing clear polymer.

  Alex and Bal returned with an update on Aramis.

  Alex said, "He's resting, lightly tractioned, and full of painkillers with healing goop plastered on his side. It'll take some time to heal. Also, the wound was getting aggravated to the point where hospitalization was essential. He will not be fully functional before we arrive. Gina and Shaman are with him."

  "Damn," Jason said for everyone. Well, at least he would survive.

  "I am going to go insane in here," Alex said to no one in particular, looking around at the tight quarters.

  "Going to?" Jason asked.

  "Plenty of room outside. Should I make you a door?" Elke snickered.

  "Elke, please don't even joke about that," Alex said. "Sucks, but we'll manage. No one shooting at us, at least. Oh, yes, the captain was pissed," he continued, facing Jason again.

  "Oh?" He had a pretty good idea why.

  "Yes. There was no problem when I demanded her weapons. She had one pistol and one shotgun, handed them over with no real protest, so I doubt anyone else is armed. She complained that the transmitter in her quarters was an emergency backup. I explained that her knowing it had been disabled was a violation of our truce, and reduced the final ticket by ten thousand marks."

  "Harsh, but fair." He'd wondered at the money they were tossing out on faith that someone else would pay it. Granted, a verbal contract wasn't binding in Grainne courts, unless agreed upon and recorded. But a verbal under duress, with money on the deck . . . a Citizen Judge would want to find in favor of it. So they were running on hope that Corporate would cough up the money, or that Bishwanath would regain enough stature to call on either national or even personal assets to pay them.

  At least, as trained security professionals, even if they were charged and lost, they could likely get good indenture contracts. Heck, I could charge it against my pension if I have to, Jason thought.

  Shaman came in looking cheerful.

  "He will be fine, though recovery will take some time," he said. "I gave him a special ritual just to see the expression on his face. He cussed at me."

  "Yes!" Jason grinned and they all chuckled in relief.

  Apparently paralleling Jason's earlier thoughts, Shaman said, "I believe I may be out of the contract security business after we resolve this. There are better ways to make the money I will owe."

  "Depends on how Corporate treats us," Alex said. "If they come through, I'll charge it off as bad negotiations."

  "I do appreciate it," Bal said. "No matter what happens, you have my eternal thanks. I wish your employer and my alleged ally was as honest and professional."

  "Yeah, I think BuState is the heavy here." Jason was only vague on how things worked at that level, but it seemed reasonable that if Bishwanath got out, a lot of people's dicks would be in vises. Which was why the pursuit had been so rough so far.

  He shrugged inwardly. If it worked out, he'd have enough money to see him through four or five years. If not, he'd be in jail being adjusted. There really wasn't anything to be done about it at this point.

  * * *

  Weilhung was glad to be on-site himself. He had Weygandt on radio down below, which meant this was strictly a military matter at the moment. He aimed to keep it that way.

  The station chief, named Lewis, was a no-nonsense type that Weilhung knew he'd work well with. Lewis had the details all laid out.

  First, the video. Yes, that was the six of them and Bishwanath. Well done, he had to admit. Across a continent, an ocean, into orbit, aboard a ship. He had them pegged, though, and he was going to take them down. How that turned out depended on how they wanted to play.

  "Okay, Chief, what else do you have?"

  Lewis was lean, lined, bald, and brusque. "I've already interviewed both of our victims," he said. "I'm sure their story is legit. The perpetrators were seen outside, but were not distinctive enough for anyone to check in detail. You know how it is, sir." He adjusted his glasses and nodded. "You tell them to question anything suspicious and they still get complacent."

  "It happens," Weilhung agreed. Things always did. Marlow had exploited that multiple times. So had Weilhung, on occasion. "We're sure of the ship?" he asked.

  "We are, sir," Lewis agreed with a nod. "That was the only ship to leave in that time frame. The next freighter departing is in four hours if you want to search it. The passenger flight to Earth doesn't leave for three days, and I've ordered them to scan every face going in. I also made sure it was empty first."

  "Really. How did you manage that?" Weygandt asked after a brief light-speed delay.

  "I ordered them to depressurize slowly to half pressure, then come back up, then down to thirty percent, then cycle back up and down to vacuum. No one with any brains would stick around for the second cycle. As a plus, it took care of my certification for pests and quarantine."

  That was creative, Weilhung thought, grinning inside.

  "Excellent. While I know you're a private corporation, Chief, I'd appreciate some discretion on this matter for now," Weygandt said.

  "You don't want the press leaking about the individuals in question, or about potential destinations," Lewis said.

  Damn, this was too easy.

  "That's it. We'd also like to avoid diplomatic issues," Weilhung hinted.

  "I won't talk to BuState if you will run interference. I'll just send them your way."

  "I suppose that's me," Wey
gandt said, looking unhappy. "Yes, I'll take care of it. And you, Major?"

  "I have things to do here, sir," he said, "if the Chief can give me more info."

  "Tell me what you need."

  An hour later, Weilhung called his best operators, starting with Captain Nugent.

  "So, we're gearing for space, sir?" Nugent asked.

  "Bring it," he agreed. "But I plan to let them get into Sol space first. Just because we're better doesn't mean I don't want the edge."