Once the man had left, Jirik used the ring communicator that Tomys had given him to report on the results of the meeting with the smuggler, and then stood, yawning hugely and stretching his cramped muscles. Picking up the case of cash, he hurriedly arranged for his vidphone calls to be forwarded to the Lass, locked the door and returned to the ship in search of Bran.
He had told Telson that he wanted to consult his crew, and he intended to do that. Mainly, however, he wanted to give the tramp captains an opportunity to find any other applicants for the job. Besides, he rather liked the woman, and sincerely hoped that Telson was not the terrorist spy. Unless another applicant appeared, however, she would have to be assumed to be the one.
Not until the hundred thousand was secure in his safe could Jirik heave a huge sigh of relief and relax. Carrying that much currency around was even more unnerving than he had remembered from his old smuggling days.
Bran and Tor were just finishing lunch when he entered the mess deck. Jirik plopped his weary weight into a chair, and began briefing them on Telson.
"She looks to be a damned good astrogator," he informed them, "But she could be a problem. She seems to be something of a hermit, spending a lot of time in her cabin."
Tor grinned. "Like Bran."
Jirik answered the grin with one of his own. "Yes, though Bran tends to seclude himself in Engineering. Telson says she likes to spend most of her time alone in her cabin." He hesitated, and then continued, "there's one other thing. She's a Metrangan."
Bran looked surprised. "An Elf? Out here?"
Tor frowned. "An Elf? I think I've read about them, Captain."
Jirik shrugged. "You probably have, Tor. They're one of the more distinctive planetary populations, along with Twilighters, Frejans and Otarners." His face hardened. "But that is the last time I want to hear the term 'elf' used to refer to her. Apparently she doesn't mind it; she used it herself. But that doesn't give us license to use it, and I understand many Metrangans consider it an insult. If I sign her on, I expect you to call her 'Metrangan', or maybe just 'Astrogator', if you must use such descriptive terms."
"Then there's one other thing to discuss," Jirik continued, "Sex. Bran and I have both shipped with female crewmembers before, but you haven't, and there are some things that you must know, things that are even more important in view of Telson's appearance. For some reason, Metrangans' appearance seems to touch a chord in 'normals', one that makes them targets of sexual interest. One of the unwritten laws of spacing is that a female crewmember is just that; a crewmember that happens to be female. She is given no special consideration, and expects none. She is entitled to the respect and treatment that her skills earn her, no more, no less. Her relations with the rest of the crew are based upon that premise.
"She is not to be considered a romantic object unless she so desires. You.would expect to not be pursued sexually by a homo or bi crewman, wouldn't you?" Tor nodded, and Jirik resumed, "Well, you will accord her the same treatment and respect that you would expect from a crewman who was homo or bi rather than hetero. If a sexual relationship does develop between two crewmembers, it is entirely their affair. You will respect her privacy, and that of any other crewmember with whom she becomes involved, should such a relationship develop. I will tolerate no unwelcome sexual advances by any crewmember toward any other, and I will not tolerate petty jealousies or other juvenile sexual didoes. Is that clear?" Tor, who had been listening intently, nodded.
The three lapsed into a technical discussion of the preparations for the voyage, which continued until the purr of the vidphone brought Jirik to his feet. One of the spacer captains had located an astrogator. At Jirik's invitation, the captain sent the man on his way to the Lass, and transmitted the man's logbook ahead.
The man's name was Bo Akito. He was an Alliance citizen, from one of the outer planets bordering the rim worlds. He had been in space some five years, all in the outer reaches of the Alliance and in the rim worlds. His performance reports were uniformly favorable, if not enthusiastic. He had signed off his last ship, a rim tramp, slightly over a year before, with the avowed purpose of "taking some courses at the University." He had changed his mind, and was looking for a berth.
Jirik sighed. This Akito looked like a much likelier convert to Actionism than Telson, and thus a much likelier spy. Naturally, an effective spy wouldn't look like a likely spy. But then, the Actionists would have needed a qualified Astrogator with reasonably good credentials. That would have limited their choices of spies. Jirik groaned. Damn this spook stuff! By the time they got back from Alpha, he was going to be a nervous wreck from trying to sort out wheels within wheels.
The hell with it, he decided firmly for the thousandth time; he'd just talk to this Akito character, and make his judgment just as though the situation were normal. If the astrogator he signed on were not the actionist spy, the Actionists were in no position to bitch about it, and neither was that damned spook. He shrugged. He'd make the decision that was best for the crew and the Lass, and let the spy crap sort itself out!
Bo Akito arrived about 15 minutes later. He was short and stocky, with straight black hair and an obsequious manner that Jirik found annoying. He spent about 15 minutes discussing the man's qualifications with him. Akito had never been to the inner Empire; in fact, he had not been to the Empire at all since childhood. All of his experience had been along the outer fringes of the Alliance and along the rim. He had been only in rim tramps; he had never conned a vessel as large as the Lass.
Jirik was not unduly impressed with either the man or his experience, but, in fairness, he set up an astrogation problem for Akito, one which would involve computing jumps and recalibration stops among the crowded inner Empire systems, and including some of the more exotic navigational hazards of those systems. Then, he took a nap. When he awoke three hours later, Akito was just finishing the problem. Jirik surveyed Akito's course data glumly. The man might be an acceptable astrogator on the rim, but he'd be a disaster in the inner Empire.
At one point, the man had actually programmed their course through a star! At another, he had routed them through the Casbury system, an area that spacers avoided like a plague, since it was situated in the middle of a huge dust cloud, containing rocks up to several meters in diameter. Jirik sighed. Well, he obviously had no choice. He ushered Akito out as gracefully as possible, then called Telson, telling her to report to the Lass at 1500, which, he was surprised to note, was only a half-hour away, 1ocal.
As soon as he disconnected from Telson, Jirik hurried down to Engineering to compare notes with Bran.
"Here's how I figure it now," he continued after bringing Bran up to date. "This Bo Akito may have been the spy. I hope so, but we can't count on it. Now, this may be our last opportunity to freely discuss the situation; that Tomys bastard warned me that any spy worth his salt would bug all the areas that he could on the ship, as a precaution. And he's probably right, the sonovabitch."
Bran nodded agreement. "I agree. Once we lift off, we won't be able to talk about spies, and Tomys, and smugglers. We'll just have to be dumb rocket jocks on a book run until we get to Alpha." He sighed, shaking his head. "It's going to be a long run!"
"Yeah," Jirik agreed morosely. "Is there anything that we need to talk about now, while we can?"
"One thing I can think of, Captain," Bran replied. "Have you talked much to Tor recently? I mean, about general things?"
Jirik frowned. "Well, yeah, we talked a bit at the hospital What did you have in mind?"
Bran shrugged expressively. "I can't say for sure, Captain, but I think Tor has become something of an Actionist. I suspect that we got him curious, by telling him to nose around, but I'm afraid he's gone a lot further into it than we intended. He's been reading quite a lot of their propaganda materials, and he's borrowed my Atmos book discs. I didn't discuss it with him at any length, but I'm afraid he's beginning to sound like a religious convert."
Jirik's hand slammed into the table. "Damn! As if
we didn't have enough to worry about!" He glowered as he collected his thoughts. "Well, with a possible spy on board, we can't try very hard to talk him out of it. I guess for the time being, the most that we can do is a short lecture on the stupidity of spacers becoming involved in politics, and a continuous air of disapproval every time he brings it up."
Bran nodded soberly. "Until this is over, we have no choice. If this Telson is a spy, a really aggressive approach might make her wonder about us."
"All right," Jirik decreed firmly, "I'll give him the politics lecture the first time he mentions it. From then on, we both act abrupt and impatient every time he says an Actionist word. And keep your eye on Telson any time the kid starts spouting politics. Maybe it'll smoke her out."
Via Telson reported aboard precisely at 1500. Jirik introduced her to Bran and Tor, watching carefully for signs of future trouble. None appeared, though Tor's openmouthed awe at meeting such an exotic woman amused him, and Telson dropped her kit in Valt's stateroom before going straight to the Astrogator's cubby to begin her calculations. By 1700 local the courses had been computed, and Jirik reviewed them carefully. He was impressed. Telson had computed nearly optimum courses through Alliance space, while avoiding popular recalibration points. Her course in Empire space was somewhat more tortuous, but not unduly so given the risks of this mission. There was no doubt the woman was good!
They lifted off at 1835 local. Jirik heaved a huge sigh of relief at his temporary escape from the complexities of interstellar intrigue.
As soon as they cleared the Boondock system, and were safely Supralight, the four convened on the mess deck for the delicate social ceremony of getting acquainted in an enforced association. The discomfort was palpable, but watching carefully, Jirik decided that Telson was giving it a fair effort. He relaxed slightly.
Tor was the one who made the job easier. He was immediately and obviously smitten by the exotic golden woman, and his obviously unalloyed interest and eagerness to know her made it impossible for Telson to take offense at anything he said. His puppylike enthusiasm and mix of sophisticated and naive questions had everyone smiling, including Telson.
The discussions remained pretty general; comparing notes on planets they had visited, and yarning about runs they had made and amusing anecdotes about past shipmates.
By the time that Telson excused herself to unpack, Jirik had relaxed. It appeared that, overall, Telson would be a good shipmate. After Telson excused herself, Jirik asked Bran and Tor their opinions.
Tor was enthusiastic. "She's wonderful, Captain. She doesn't talk down to me, and she didn't seem offended by all my questions. And she's so beautiful! I hope she likes us as well!"
Bran was more cautious. "I think she'll be all right, Captain. I liked her.
Jirik shrugged. " Okay, so we all agree that our impressions are favorable. I don't mind admitting that I was worried. Maybe this trip won't be so bad, after all."
After a few more minutes of conversation, Bran excused himself, and Jirik went to talk with Telson.
"You have a good crew, Captain," she asserted as Jirik entered her cabin. she smiled. "That kid is something else. I don't think he could offend anybody if he tried. I think I like your Engineer, too. He's as sharp as they come."
"Good," Jirik replied, "As you can imagine, I've compared notes with the others. I don't think you'll have any problems on the Lass. If you do, though, remember our deal. If someone bothers you, let me know immediately. I'll have no nursing of grudges on board. A crew of four isn't big enough to tolerate them."
"Agreed, Captain." Telson shrugged dismissively. "Now, would you like to tell me why we're jumping all over the galaxy instead of heading straight for Alpha?"
Jirik told her about the deal with the Library on Boondock, and the multimillion-credit letter of credit in his safe. The woman whistled softly. "No wonder you want out-of-the-way recal points. Every pirate and thug between here and Alpha that can wire together an old rustbucket is going to be laying for us!" Her expression turned thoughtful . "I'm going to have to make some changes in our course projections, Captain. The Lass isn't exactly a fleet Courier. There'll be a lot of those bastards that we can't outrun, and I don't want to take any chances. Let me think about it a bit, and I'll bring you my recommendations. I think I'll be able to sneak us through, but there are no guarantees. Some of those pirates have damned sharp astrogators."
"Just do your best," Jirik replied, "That's all that I can ask."
The white grin was back. "Don't worry, Captain. I'm well aware that the pirates know that corpses don't testify, and I'm quite fond of this furry little skin. It's the only one I've got. I don't want some thug shooting holes in it! Or raping hell out of it" she added.
Several hours later, Telson brought him the revised course projections. Looking them over, Jirik was impressed. Telson was very good. Most of her projected recal points were in uninhabited or marginally dangerous, and therefore unused, systems. One was in the fringes of a nebula, another was in the vicinity of a black hole usually avoided like a plague. Jirik complimented Telson on her work, receiving one of the white grins in reply.
At dinner that "evening," Jirik asked for suggestions, legal or not-so-legal, that might help them get through. The following day, each of the crewmen had at least one suggestion, to Jirik's pleasure. Telson suggested shutting down all sensor arrays not essential to recalibration. Tor proposed modifying or disabling the identification beacon required by both Alliance and Empire law, and Bran announced that he had already begun modifying the fuel mixture to change their exhaust "signature". Jirik was glad to see them becoming so involved and participating so actively. They spent several hours critiquing each other's suggestions, adding to them, and analyzing how to accomplish them.
Finally, they each pronounced themselves satisfied with the suggested measures. With Jirik's and Bran's help, Tor would modify the ident beacon to identify them as a robot ore hauler. The robot ships went astray with annoying frequency, so if noticed, they probably would be assumed to be an ore hauler whose course programming had been faulty. Since this was not uncommon for the robot ships, they were used only to haul low-value ore shipments. With any luck, any pirate detecting them would decide to pass them in hopes of waylaying the Lass. They would also add a switch in the ident circuit, which would let them shut off the beacon entirely. The idea was that they would enter the recalibration point systems with the beacon shut off, and only activate the modified beacon if they were in imminent danger of detection.
Meanwhile, Telson would shut down all nonessential astrogation sensors, with an eye toward maximum use of passive sensors, which could not be detected. When they emerged from supralight at the recal point, Jirik would scan the system for traffic, while Telson recalibrated for the next jump.
Since recalibration required maneuvering within the recal point system, and inertial drive exhaust traces were detectable, Bran was to plumb a line into the inertial drive fuel system that would add variable traces of inert elements into the fuel pumps. Every pirate in space knew what the exhaust "signature" of a DIN Class combat hauler looked like, and that's what they'd be looking for. By injecting minute traces of inert elements into the fuel system, they hoped the "signature" could be changed enough to be unrecognizable.
All hands were at their emergency stations for their emergence from supralight ten ship-days later. As the supralight generators wound down, the universe began to assume its normal appearance. Jirik hunched over the displays for the passive detectors, while Tor scanned all 'comm channels. Jirik was satisfied to note that almost as soon as her instruments flickered to life, Telson began punching at the keyboard on her nav computer. After a tense half-hour, all but Telson had relaxed slightly. Apparently, this system was out-of-the-way enough that none of their pursuers had thought of it. Or perhaps, Jirik thought, none of them could get there in time.
The woman's fingers flew on the keyboard as though she were a virtuoso playing a musical instrument. Her hunched p
osture, flying fingers and intent expression gave Telson an almost maniacal appearance that contrasted sharply with her elfin body.
The jump point in this system was less than 20 hours' boost from their entry point. Jirik headed for it immediately, while Telson computed the next jump. Less than two hours passed before she pronounced herself satisfied.
Once supralight, Jirik 'whuffed' a huge sigh of pleased relief, and slumped wearily back in his chair, suddenly aware of the tension cramps in his shoulder muscles. Looking around, it was obvious that everyone in the crew shared his pleased relaxation. Tor was grinning from ear to ear, stomping around the bridge, stretching cramped muscles. A sigh of monumental proportions coming from the intercom revealed that Bran, too, had been on edge. Telson was calmly shutting down her now-useless sensors, but Jirik's terse "Great job, Telson" was rewarded by that startlingly white grin. The slump of Telson's shoulders, and the sweat stains darkening her tunic gave mute testimony to the effort and strain of the past few hours.
"Yeah!" Tor agreed excitedly, "That was really terrific, Ms Telson! It always takes Valt between three and four hours to recalibrate and reorient for the next jump. I didn't know it could be done that fast!" It was fast becoming obvious that Tor was developing a serious crush on the striking astrogator. Jirik made a mental note to have a talk with the boy.
"Yeah," Telson replied deprecatingly, "Well, There's nothing like fear to make you do better than you thought you could!"
"Tor's right, though," Jirik put in, "That was a helluva job. I'm kinda glad I brought you along."
The Rim Rebels Page 14