The Rim Rebels

by Zellmann, William

  Chapter 12

  As Jirik left the Spacer Guild building some three hours later, a man dressed in the coverall of a longshoreman stumbled into him, pressing a note into Jirik's hand as he regained his balance. "Damn!" Jirik said under his breath, "Spook crap again. Okay, here we go!"

  The note contained only the name of a nearby restaurant, and the scrawling word "Now." It wasn't signed, but then, Jirik thought, it didn't have to be. Tomys was ready for the spook games to begin. Jirik sighed deeply, and trudged resignedly toward his unwanted appointment.

  The restaurant named in the note was nearby, and was obviously a favorite of spacers and port workers. Tomys was seated at a table in the rear, which Jirik assumed was well bugged

  As Jirik approached, Tomys rose to his feet. "Welcome to Alpha, Captain!" Jirik merely grunted, and assumed the seat opposite the little man.

  "I'm certainly glad you made it, Captain," Tomys continued "Though I understand that you suffered some more hull damage."

  Jirik shrugged. "We scraped off some hull coating running through part of a nebula at .01 C. Nothing serious, though."

  Tomys nodded and grinned. "Uh huh. Glad to hear that. By the way, Captain, Did you hear anything about a plague ship?"

  Jirik was wary, but ready. "The Port Captain mentioned something about a plague ship running.around the sector. Why?"

  Tomys' grin was that of a cat ready to pounce, but his tone was studiedly casual. "I just thought that it was an interesting coincidence; a plague ship with a silver hull running around the sector, and you with damage to your hull coating."

  Jirik shrugged. "The Port Captain said that it was a nonhuman ship." Tomys' grin was beginning to irritate him.

  Tomys nodded. "Yes, it's supposedly a Kjinnthian ship named the 'Klaakriit'. But the Kjinnthian Consulate says that they have no ship by that name registered, and that they don't plate their hulls. They use the same insulating, anticorrosive coating that we do. Strange, isn't it?"

  Jirik shrugged again. "If you say so. Is that why you set up this meeting, to tell me the latest bar gossip?"

  The irritating grin never wavered. "Of course not, Captain. But it's a serious offense to transmit a false distress beacon. If the authorities catch up with that Captain, he could find himself in deep trouble."

  I'm sure he could," Jirik replied unconcernedly. "Now, shall we get to it? I've got a hell of a lot to do."

  Tomys' grin faded. "All right. Obviously you made it. What about that astrogator you signed on. Do you think she was really a terrorist spy?"

  "Yes, she was." Jirik replied. "In fact, she told me so. She's a spacer, remember? Once we cleared the rim, she came to my cabin and told me all about it. She gave me these," He threw a handful of spy-eyes on the table, "And she gave me this, in case I ran into someone who could use it." He produced the memory crystal containing Via's report

  "What is it?" Tomys asked warily, not touching the crystal.

  "It's her complete report on everything and everyone that she could remember involving the terrorists. She says it contains names, dates, and suspected rank in the terrorist hierarchy," Jirik replied indifferently. "I don't know, I haven't played it."

  Tomys was still wary. "Why not?"

  Jirik shrugged. "For one thing, I didn't want anything to do with this terrorist crap. Besides, I didn't want you to think that I'd tampered with it.

  Tomys relaxed slightly. "All right. Why do you think she's being so good to us? I mean, why would she go to the trouble to record this crystal?"

  "I told you," Jirik replied in a tone tinged with exasperation, "She's a spacer. She broke one of the prime rules that we live by, and she was feeling guilty about it. This was her way of making up for it. Look," He continued earnestly, "Don't go chasing after this woman and interrogating her. This crystal contains all that she knows. She's being straight, and she doesn't need a bunch of spooks making her life miserable. All she wanted was out of a mess. Right now, she's over at the Spacer Guild trying frantically to sign on any ship heading away from the rim. Leave the woman alone." His tone had become pleading.

  Tomys, for the first time since Jirik had met him, seemed unsure. "Well, we'll see what's in her report. Maybe we won't have to bother her."

  "I sure as hell hope not," Jirik replied. "Her new captain could almost ruin her, if you guys start acting like she's some kind of villain." He tried to change the subject. "By the way, you were right. Cony seems to be the big man among the terrorists. Telson says that there could be others that she doesn't know about, but that Cony was the highest-ranking terrorist that she got to meet." His face darkened. "He was also the one that had Valt beaten. I'd like to talk to him about that," he added in a deceptively light tone.

  Tomys straightened abruptly. "Forget it, Captain. Leave Cony to me. So help me, if you interfere by, say, killing Cony, I'll have you up on charges. You just continue as you have, playing it straight and reporting to me. I'll handle Cony." Jirik nodded soberly.

  "Now," Tomys continued, "Here's the battle comp software that you agreed to smuggle. It's been suitably altered, of course."

  "Yeah," Jirik replied glumly. "Altered how? I mean, what if they have some way of checking it out? Will they be able to tell?"

  Tomys' answering smile was confident. "Don't worry. It was altered by one of our top comp experts. The software will function perfectly, with one exception. It won't relay firing commands to the weapons systems. Oh, all the indicators will show that the weapons functioned perfectly, but they won't fire. Our man says that it would take someone as expert as him a month to track down the change; and we're sure that the terrorists don't have anyone that expert, or they'd have written the software themselves."

  Jirik wasn't so sure. "They may have the entire resources of the University of the Rim," He replied doubtfully.

  Tomys shrugged. "We thought of that. We provided our man a list of the faculty and comp techs, as well as a complete inventory of the University's computing resources."

  "I hope that your man's right," Jirik replied, "I wouldn't want a bunch of dissatisfied terrorists coming around demanding their money back, or deciding to take it out of my hide!"

  "Don't worry, Captain," Tomys said casually, "You just do as you're told, and you'll be fine."

  Nettled, Jirik decided that it was time to play his trump card. "Yeah," he replied with elaborate casualness, "That's pretty much what the Guild lawyers said."

  Tomys' eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

  "Well," Jirik replied, "After I signed Telson off, I took the precaution of talking to a group of the Guild's lawyers. The Guild was most cooperative. They're not thrilled when one of us is used as a pawn by a political entity. Our well-publicized unwillingness to become involved in politics is one of the main things that helps us survive. So, they provided me with a room and half-a-dozen Guild lawyers to advise me."

  For the first time since they had met, Tomys' composure had slipped. "You fool! What did you tell them?"

  Jirik had begun to enjoy himself. "Not very much. They wouldn't let me tell them much. They said that they had no desire to live incommunicado on a prison planet until you decided that they could be released. They did send a courier to Alliance Intelligence Headquarters to verify your identity, but they realized that they won't find out for months, if at all."

  Tomys began to relax. "So, what did they advise?"

  Jirik shrugged. "That I had no real choice but to cooperate, as long as I wasn't asked to endanger either my ship or crew, or perform an act that would be illegal. Should you try to charge us with anything, the Guild will represent us. Should you decide, as you've threatened, to activate my Reserve commission, they have experts in military law who will defend me at my court-martial.

  "They said that I should not permit you to use threats of legal action to coerce me or my crew into illegal activity. And that I should warn you that the Guild will be dispatching ships to the rim on a regular basis to keep track of us, and that, should we disappear, or shoul
d anything happen to us, the Guild will take legal action to find out just what powers are vested in a Class I, and to press for information, in the media if necessary. Should anything happen to us, every Guild vessel will spread the word to every ship with which they come into contact."

  Tomys' expression was veiled. "What else? We may as well get it all out!"

  "They had me make a sealed recording," Jirik replied, "A complete report of everything that has happened since you first barged into my office. They had me make a number of copies before I sealed the recording, and to seal them, as well. I'm to tell you that one copy of the sealed recording is in the vaults of the Guild. The others have been dispersed to ships which either have or will be leaving Alpha, consigned to various Guild headquarters, both here in the Empire, and in the Alliance. Those recordings are to remain sealed unless the Lass or her crew disappear or are reported lost under unusual circumstances, in which case a full investigation and explanation will be demanded, Alliance- and Empire-wide. They have also advised that I should continue to record reports as events unfold, and pass them along as I can. I will also be recording all conversations that I have with you, and all orders that I receive."

  "You mean that you're recording right now?" Tomys demanded incredulously.

  Jirik nodded. "Damned right I am. So far, you've been pushing us around like we were your private operatives, or something. From now on, we'll do as we're told, but I'll be taking precautions to protect us! By the way, The Guild is going to try to make sure that any temporary Astrogator that they refer to me has been listed for a berth since before you could possibly have gotten here, just to make sure that you don't plant an agent on us."

  Tomys suddenly looked nervous and thoughtful. "Very clever, Captain. You and your damned Guild, both. Don't forget, though. They told you to go along with my orders; and don't forget, you still have to return to the rim. Considering what you've already done, you'll be safer with me than without me." He paused. "I'm going to have to think about this. You're going to be on Alpha for at least a month, right?" Jirik nodded, and Tomys continued, "All right. I'll be in touch!" The rabbity little man scrambled to his feet and hurried out the door

  Jirik was considerably cheered as he walked from the restaurant. As he strode out the door, he crashed into someone trying to come in.

  "I'm very sorry, s . . . Tor!" He said, "Kid, I'm sure glad to run into you . . . well," he continued as the boy broke into laughter, "You know what I mean. What're you doing?"

  "N-Nothing, really, Captain." The young man replied, "I just came down to say goodbye to Via. You were talking to her, and then you left before I could say goodbye!" he added accusingly.

  Jirik Clapped Tor on the back. "Sorry, son. I guess we had other things on our minds. C'mon, I'll buy you a cup of coffee!" He waved the young man back into the restaurant.

  Carefully selecting a table well away from the one that Tomys had occupied, Jirik ordered coffee, while Tor ordered a meal. When the waiter left with their orders, Tor asked, "Captain, Didn't you just come out of here?"

  Jirik laughed. "Yeah, kid. I had a little meeting with our Alley friend."

  Tor looked startled. "You mean . . ." Jirik's upraised hand stopped Tor in mid-sentence.

  "Yeah." Jirik replied. "Don't worry, though," he continued, seeing the expression on Tor's face, "Nothing serious happened, except that I took some steps to protect us. I'll tell you and Bran both about it when I meet him tonight. I want you there, too. 2000 local, at the restaurant near the Lass on the station All right?"

  The boy nodded. "Y-Yessir. I'll be there. Uh, are we in trouble, again?"

  Jirik laughed again. "Naw. Don't worry about it right now." He shrugged dismissively. "The reason that I was glad to run into you, was that I'm about to visit the Library to see what kind of deal we can make, and I thought you'd like to come along."

  Tor nearly dropped a mouthful of food. "Yes sir!" he replied, "I'd really like that. Uh . . . to tell you the truth, all these people make me a little uncomfortable. I'm a farmworlder, remember? I'm glad I met you, sir."

  Jirik grinned. "I know what you mean. Alpha's quite a bit different from Corona or Boondock, isn't it?"

  Tor looked rueful. "It sure is! You know, when I was growing up, I used to dream of places like Alpha, with their huge cities, and billions of people. Now that I'm here, though, they kinda scare me a little. It's kinda hard to believe that people can live all jammed tip together like this. They're kinda cold and unfriendly, too."

  "I know what you mean," Jirik replied seriously, "But I grew up on a planet like this one. The first time I visited a farm world, I wondered how people could live so spread out, without close neighbors. I used to think that it must be lonely. All those miles of open space made me uncomfortable. Their friendliness bothered me, too, until I learned to understand it. I thought that they were pushy, and inquisitive about things that were none of their business. It took me several years and several visits to farm worlds before I began to change my mind."

  Tor laughed. "Yeah, I guess it would seem like that to an outsider. I guess that what you're trying to tell me is that I'll get used to this, like you got used to farm worlds."

  Jirik nodded. "That's it, son. You stay with spacing, and you're going to see a lot of different worlds, with a lot of different ways of living. None of them is particularly better, just different. And, you'll find the nonhumans even stranger. The K'jinn, for instance" He smiled as the boy's head jerked, and continued, "They live in huge tunnels. The whole planet's honeycombed with 'em. Dozens of K'jinn share the same room. They think that a desire for privacy is a perversion."

  "But, they have spacers!" Tor protested

  Jirik nodded. "Yes, but K'jinn spacers are regarded as perverts and deviants by most of their kind. They're not permitted to mate, for instance, for fear that they might infect their offspring with the obscene desire for privacy and solitude."

  "Reethians, on the other hand, regard close association with others for more than a few hours at a time as vaguely obscene. A male Reethian is not permitted to mate until he has seized a 'territory' of at least ten square miles as his domain. It took years of negotiation for the Empire to get the spaceport declared an enclave safe from seizure. That's why the Reethian population is so small. Obviously, there are only a certain number of ten-square-mile tracts possible on the surface of a planet."

  Tor had been listening attentively. "Reethians . . . Those are the birdmen, aren't they?"

  Jirik nodded. "They're avian. But, listen, kid. You've got to learn to be very careful about your terms. Never call a Reethian a 'Birdman'. It could get you challenged to a duel to the death. You'd be amazed at what terms pick up offensive connotations."

  Tor looked puzzled. "I don't understand. I thought that 'birdman' was how they were described!"

  Jirik shook his head. "Nope. They consider it an insult. And, if they consider it an insult, it becomes one. On Twilight, for example, to refer to someone as being 'dark' or 'black' could get you shot. The people there tend to be as light-skinned as Frejans are dark. People who are much darker than Twilighters are regarded as mongrels, unfit to associate with their 'civilized' lighter-skinned brothers."

  Tor's puzzlement was back. "But, how can you know how to describe someone, without getting into trouble?"

  Jirik smiled. "You'll learn, son. But until you learn what terms are offensive where, your safest course is to not refer to any highly visible attributes. Even referring to someone as 'tall', or 'small' could get you into trouble in some places. It's usually safe to identify them by sex, or nonhumans by species, but other than that, be very careful. Sorry about the lecture, kid. I guess I'm getting talky in my old age."

  Tor shrugged. "That's all right, Captain. I'm beginning to realize that I've got an awful lot to learn."

  Jirik laughed. "That you do, son, that you do. But, we'll help try to keep you from the wrong end of a laser or blaster bolt."

  They left the restaurant and hailed a verticab to
take them to the Library, an imposing edifice some ten stories high, and covering over ten acres. Jirik patiently negotiated his way through bureaucratic layers until he finally, many credits poorer, worked his way up to someone with the authority to negotiate the deal. By that time, very little of the work day remained for the negotiations themselves, but they succeeded in arranging discussions for the following day.

  Tor was outraged. "On Boondock, I made an appointment with the head of the library with one vidphone call, and got the appointment for two hours later! Here, we spend all afternoon trying to get to someone who can discuss the deal!"

  Jirik chuckled. "That's called 'bureaucracy', son. On populous planets, the power of a person can be judged by how many people he can put between himself and someone who wants to see him. The theory seems to be that he's too busy to talk to someone unless his business is important, and if it's important, the visitor will stick to it. It seems that the importance of the business is judged by how many layers a visitor is willing to fight his way through."

  "But, that man wasn't busy," Tor protested. "His terminal wasn't even activated until we got there And, How come we had to pay some of those people? Wasn't it their job to help us?"

  Jirik smiled patiently. "Tor, the empire has what is called a 'mature' society. For which, read 'corrupt'. It cost us hundreds of credits to get to see that 'deputy assistant' whoozis. Chances are, it'll turn out that he doesn't have the authority to make the deal, and that it'll cost us another pile of credits to get to see someone who can." He shrugged. "It's just another part of doing business on the inner planets."

  Tor wasn't mollified. He continued to protest as they returned to the Shuttle Port, and throughout the shuttle ride to the space station. By the time they arrived on the station, it was nearly time to meet Bran at the restaurant.

  Bran was waiting for them when they arrived at the restaurant. Tor didn't even wait until they were seated before launching into a recital of his opinion of the Empire planets, Alpha, bureaucracy and venial officials. Bran listened politely for a few minutes, then looked quizzically at Jirik.