“Maybe a little too much speed,” Marla said. “My man has reworked every system on this ship and the Blue Moon Bandit will get up and go. The problem is that her structure can’t always deal with it. The stress can bust her joints and break her back if Nathan and I don’t handle her just right.”
“I’ve seen ships like that before,” Richie said. “Private yachts mostly, whose owners modify them for races or for outrunning pirates.”
“You’ve served on those?”
“A couple. You learn to get off those crews before some cowboy tries to do circles around a comet and forgets to calculate the gravity quotient properly. I was also on a smuggler’s ship once. Didn’t know that until it was too late, though.”
Duncan gestured for Richie to sit down. “What were they running?”
“Tax free liquor.”
Duncan laughed. “You were running moonshine? Really?”
“Hold on, there. This was good hooch, I was told later on. Not the rotgut you get on some outer rim bars. We picked up a couple hundred barrels from Europa and took the long way to Enceladus. Jupiter to Saturn, you know? Should have been an easy trip. I thought we were hauling lubricants and etching acid to a mining colony. Anyway, we get jumped by a Protective Services cruiser. The captain almost crapped himself.”
“I bet,” Marla said. “Protective Services loves to bust smugglers.”
“Oh yeah, they came right in on us. The captain panicked.”
“Hit the thrusters? Tried to run?” Marla said.
“Yeah and he thought he would throw in some evasive maneuvers. He must have thought he was in a holovid, you know? He firewalled the throttle and started jinking all over the place. Up, down, zig zagging like crazy. The whole time Protective Services just hung back and waited for us to make up our mind about what we were going to do. I’m down in the engine room watching gauges red line and I can see this old junker isn’t going to take much.”
“What finally gave? Was it the maneuvering thruster relays?”
“No, way worse than that. All his gyrations popped the cargo hold doors. Twisted them right out of the frame, broke the seal and whoosh, everything in the hold blew into space.” Richie had his hands spread wide above his head. “Hundreds of barrels, some machine parts we had for cover and a bunch of supplies. The atmospheric venting blew us out of control.”
“You got it under control though?”
“Oh, sure. The captain really was a decent pilot. Once he got the ship under control we got boarded and he was arrested.”
“Not you though? That was good luck,” Duncan said.
“None of the crew was arrested. The captain came clean. Pretty decent I thought.”
“Yeah,” Duncan said. “That could have been worse. I’ve served on some rough ships myself. Every decent pilot thinks they can be a captain.”
“Not me,” Marla said. “Once you’re the captain you never get to fly. You have to run the ship, manage the crew and find jobs. Real pilots like to fly.”
“Okay, every other decent pilot wants to be a ship’s captain. The point is there are a lot of ships flying around with captains that aren’t as decent as they could be. Even Nathan has his moments.”
Richie grinned. “Yeah?”
Duncan smiled. “Yeah, he can make some decisions that leave you guessing sometimes. One time, back when Celeste was his co-pilot, we took a job getting this wreck back for a private lender. No bank involved, you see, just some guy who came into the office.”
“This was Celeste, his ex-wife?” Richie said.
“Right, she was the co-pilot before Marla,” Duncan said. “Anyway, this guy walks into the office. Hard Six Harry was his name. He was kind of tall and lanky and about a million years old. He was a real cowboy, too.”
“He had it all,” Duncan said. “He was wearing a mustard yellow suit with a matching ten gallon hat and had the most remarkable bushy gray handlebar mustache drooping down that you’ve ever seen. The only thing missing was a gun belt and a six shooter.”
“We were all sitting in the office,” Duncan said, “because things were slow. We hadn’t had a job in weeks. It was one of those little dry spells that pops up once in a while.” He adjusted his seat and poured himself another glass of wine and topped off Marla’s glass. “Anyway, he lays out a rap to Nathan about how he loaned money to a pilot to buy a ship and this woman stopped making payments. Harry hadn’t heard from her in months and the ship was nowhere to be seen. Things were slow so Nathan takes the job.”
“His name was Hard Six Harry? What’s that mean?”
“We asked him that too but Cole already had an idea,” Duncan said. “He gambles a lot. “Hard Six Harry was a starship dealer, mostly used private stuff and he self-financed a lot of sales at exorbitant rates.
“Yeah, I’ve seen guys like him,” Richie said.
“We asked him about his name and he tells us that back when he got started, he was short on cash. He claimed he walked into a casino and made a bet at the craps table. Do you play?”
Richie shook his head. “No.”
“He bet that the shooter, the dice thrower, would throw a six by rolling two threes before he throws it the easy way, like a two and a four.”
“Or a seven,” Marla said.
“Oh yeah, or before the shooter rolls a seven.”
“That sounds like a hard bet.”
“It is,” Duncan said. “Harry claims he won the bet and raked in a pile of credits, enough to keep him in business and let him expand. He said he’d been doing just fine ever since. He even ended up marrying a waitress from the casino’s bar.”
“So what’s the problem?” Richie said. “It sounds like any other job from what I’ve heard.”
“That’s what we thought aside from Hard Six Harry being a little goofy. But his credits were good so we took the job. We ask around, do some leg work and find out that the ship might be as close as Mars. We all saddle up and take a flight to the red planet.”
“Did you find it?”
“Oh yeah, we found it, and called it in to Harry as per his instructions. It was a nice little two passenger long range shuttle. It was cherry too, just great for hopping around the solar system. You could probably get as far as Saturn before you had to refuel.”
“Stay on topic, dear.”
“Yes, Marla. Anyway, we put a hold on the ship with the dock master and the next morning we start the repossession process. We all go to the dock master, because this seemed like an easy one. We show him the paperwork from Hard Six Harry and prepare to take possession of the shuttle. While we’re doing that, this blonde walks in, says she’s leaving and wants to settle her bill for docking.”
“Let me guess,” Richie said. “It was her shuttle.”
“Bingo,” Duncan said. “At this point, Nathan had to inform her that we’re there to take possession of the ship. Of course, a great deal of shouting and arguing ensued. The blonde claims the shuttle is hers free and clear and that there isn’t any lien or note against it. She produces a bill of sale and title.”
“Oh man,” Richie said.
“Uh-huh. Things weren’t looking good. The dock master is one of those guys that’s been doing his job so long you’d think they built the dock around him. He asks for the letter of consent from the owner and a copy of the loan paperwork. Nathan’s got the letter but not a copy of the loan paperwork.”
“Oh boy,” Richie said.
“Yeah,” Duncan said. “Documentation is usually something Nathan is very strict about because it avoids problems like this. All that prep work ahead of time means less hassles later on. So anyway, Nathan’s in a spot because he can’t prove the lady skipped out on the loan. He was working a deal to call back to Go City and get the paperwork when Hard Six Harry bursts into the dock master’s office.”
“He flew in from Earth to get the ship?”
“No, man. Harry pulls a knife and starts screaming at the lady. He wants to know how she could leave him, didn’t
she know how much he loved and where did she think she was going anyway?”
“Damn. She was the cocktail waitress?”
“You bet. Her name was Goldie. We all stand up and try to back away from the man we’re now thinking about calling Crazy Harry but the office is small. There’s really nowhere to go and no way to get away from this sweating, screaming madman holding the knife. He keeps accusing his wife of cheating on him, she keeps telling him to leave and Nathan is doing this low, even voice thing that is supposed to calm Harry down but really, it’s just pissing him off because he thinks Nathan is patronizing him.”
“So what happened?”
“Hard Six Harry’s finally had enough, you know? He says, ‘why did you run off with Bill?’”
“Who?”
“Apparently Bill was Harry’s mechanic. Anyway, Goldie, steps forward and says, ‘Why did I leave? ‘Cause your mean and I’m tired of your wrinkly old ass laying on me on Saturday nights.’”
“Jeez.”
“That lit his fuse. Harry gets a wild look in his eye and starts swinging the knife. I’m thinking this is going to have a bad ending and then Cole steps up, grabs Harry’s wrist, twists it until we hear it snap and then he takes the knife away from him. Harry collapses in pain and Goldie punches Cole. He was so surprised he backed up and Goldie dropped to the floor hugging Harry, holding his head to her chest and stroking his back.”
“You’re kidding,” Richie said.
“I’m really not. We walked out of the office because domestic disputes are way outside our scope of work. We got back on the ship and flew home. The last we saw of Harry and Goldie they were sitting in that dock masters office hugging one another and professing their love.”
“That’s crazy.”
“True but the point of the story is that if Nathan had followed procedure and got a copy of the loan papers we would have known Harry was a lunatic looking for his wife instead of his lost ship.”
“Wow. I guess anyone can be a bad captain.”
Duncan nodded. “This is what I’m saying.”
They heard a noise and Duncan got up from the table. He checked a monitor on the wall and turned back to Richie and Marla. "They're back."
Nathan led his group into the galley and Cole and Kimiyo flopped into the big booth at one end of the table. Cole looked at the low lights and wine glasses and laughed. "Did we interrupt something, big guy? Maybe a little dinner for two on the Blue Moon Bandit in this lovely garden spot? Did you get the wine from those booze hounds enjoying the burn barrel on the next landing pad over?"
Kimiyo gave him an elbow to the ribs. "You're awful."
"Cut the crap," Nathan said. "We've got to look at this data chip and see where we're going next."
Duncan took the chip. "What's this?"
"The next stop on this scavenger hunt." He explained what happened at the casino. Duncan pulled out a small pocket computer and inserted the chip.
"Well, there's no games here. Just a set of coordinates and a date and time," Duncan said. He showed it to Marla. "Do you know where this is, honey?"
She started up an application on the device that would map the coordinates. It ran for a few seconds and presented a map and whatever additional information the database contained about the location.
"It's a small moon colony named Port Solitude," she said. "It looks like it orbits a gas giant named Hubbard. It’s about a day away at cruising speed. Anyone ever here of it?"
"I have," Cole said. "It's not the nicest place. Lots of criminal activity. When I was a marshal I was there a few times chasing fugitives down."
"Like what," Nathan said.
"Just name it. Piracy is real big there. Ships go missing all the time."
"That sounds just like what happened to the Charon."
"Yeah. It's also a place to hire unsavory characters to get other things done. If you need to put a crew together to pull a robbery or some other job you can find people there, if you know where to look."
"What's the colony's claim to fame?" Nathan said. "Mining, agriculture, industry or something else?" He looked at the data on the small computer. "There's not much here in the database."
"It doesn't really have a claim to fame," Cole said. "The few times I was there it was pretty depressed. There was some mining, I think for bauxite, and some agriculture. I remember one guy we were looking for was working at a factory where they bottled pickles."
"Pickles?"
"Apparently the colony exports good pickles. I can't speak to how good they are, personally. I don't especially like them. They canned other vegetables for export too. Apparently you can grow stuff there. There's also a sizable port that attracts ships for export work. This stuff doesn't pay well so you get a lot of low life's working side deals. Protective Services tries to keep an eye on the place but the colony just doesn't have enough money for proper staffing."
"There's something else about this place," Duncan said. "Port Solitude is the home base for the Children of the Apocalyptic Rainbow." He was looking at the pocket computer and scrolling through the pages.
Nathan arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Duncan nodded. "You bet. It looks like they've got a place right outside the main colony."
“Then maybe we’re getting to the end of it.”
“Nathan, are we leaving tonight or in the morning?” Marla waved her wine glass in the air. “I’ve been holding back in case we had to fly out.”
“Just get us up and lock in the auto pilot. I think we could all use a good night’s rest before tomorrow.”
She nodded and squirmed out of the booth. Nathan followed her up to the cockpit. Duncan nudged Richie. “Let’s get to the engine room. We can make sure everything holds together.”
Cole and Kimiyo were alone in the galley. She looked at him. “You don’t have a job to help with the launch?”
“Sometimes I help Duncan but he’s got his very own assistant now so he won’t need me.” He opened a bottle and swigged some down. “How about you? Do you have to check on Arulio?”
“No, he’s fine. He’s in sleep mode and my pocket comp will alert me if any of his readings get wonky.”
“You didn’t have that on before?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting trouble like we found before. I’m prepared now.”
“That was some fracas at the diner. I like the way you handled yourself.” He took her hand. “You had a good plan and executed it pretty well. Ruthlessly you might say.”
“Ruthless, huh?”
“Yep.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself. I couldn’t believe how fast you got the drop on those guys.” Her fingers stroked his hand lightly. It felt like a shock going through him.
“I didn’t have much choice. We did make a pretty good team though.”
“Uh-huh.”
He kissed her, pinning her against the counter with his hand on the back of her head. She tried to pull him closer, grinding in. They broke apart as the engines started.
“My room,” he said. “It’s closer.”
Outside, on the next landing pad over, the booze hounds took note as the Blue Moon Bandit prepared to lift off into the night sky. She hovered over the pad for a moment, as if getting her bearings. The four landing struts folded into their housings and the ship oriented itself to the correct heading. Then the big twin engines at her rear flared bright blue and white. She moved into the traffic pattern above them and disappeared a moment later.
“Hey Tom,” one of them said to another. “Isn’t that the ship that guy wanted you to watch?”
The one named Tom was propped against a crate, dozing. He opened one eye and looked across the pad. “Ayuh, that’s the one. She just leave?”
“Just lifted off. You still have the phone that guy give ya?”
“Ayuh, I’ll send him word.”
The old drunk texted a message and closed the phone, slipping it back into the dirty coveralls he was wearing. The coveralls with th
e logo of the Children of the Apocalyptic Rainbow on the back.
“When that fella gives you the reward for doing that, you make sure I get my cut. You was dozin’ but I was keeping an eye out.”
Tom nodded. “Ayuh, Jimmy, you did a good job there. I’ll make sure to remember you.” His head drooped and he fell back asleep.
23.
An hour later, Montario’s phone beeped and he picked it up off the nightstand next to the bed. Celeste didn’t move. The girl was a heavy sleeper, he’d noticed. The message told him the Blue Moon Bandit had launched from its pad on Olympia. He called up his bank account and transferred a thousand credits to the account of the guy who sent the message. A week prior Montario had Milo out at the landing pads handing out cheap G-net enabled phones and explaining that there was a reward to watch out for a ship. A couple days ago, when they learned which ship would be carrying the wetjack, they’d sent messages to the phones and sure enough they’d got an answer. One of the Rainbow members who had a drinking problem was hanging out at the same spaceport where the ship had landed. That member had sent in a picture of the ship on the landing pad for confirmation and now it was gone. That made sense. Nathan and his crew had finished up with Milo just a few hours ago. Now came the hard part.
He started thinking about what was left to do and what could trip them up. Milo had confirmed the authenticity of the wetjack so Saji was playing the game straight so far. Milo had mentioned they should be careful though. The captain of the Blue Moon Bandit seemed to have a temper.
Caleb could also turn into a problem. Montario would have preferred him to be away from Port Solitude while the deal went down. The problem was he couldn’t think of anything to keep him busy at the moment.
Celeste stirred and looked up at him. “What’s up, baby?”
“Group business,” he said, holding up the phone. “It never ends.”
"Really?" She snatched the phone away from him and rolled out of bed. “Are they on their way? Did you get a message?”
He enjoyed the sight of her walking around the room without clothes. She scrolled through the messages and stopped walking.
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