Valt was looking thoughtful. "Maybe I'm not quite ready to go chasing terrorist thugs."
Jirik shrugged. "You're not. And you won't be for at least a standard year, if you plan to master hand-to-hand, vibroblade and projectile or beam weapons. Each of them has their own techniques to be learned, and none of them is easy."
Valt's expression had become dismayed. "By then we'll be off the rim! I'll never see those bastards again!"
Jirik nodded. "That's right. That's one reason that spacers don't hold grudges much." He shrugged again.
"So, you think I'm wasting my time!" Valt's tone was plaintive
"No, I don't." Jirik replied seriously. "Everyone, especially a spacer, has a right, and in fact a duty, to learn to protect himself. If every citizen of every planet knew how to defend himself, an awful lot of crime rates would drop dramatically. A person who hasn't learned to defend himself is nothing but a helpless victim, volunteering to become a statistic."
Valt shook his head. "No. That's what the blues are for. A citizen trying to defend himself is risking death or disability. The blues are paid to take that risk, and trained for it."
Jirik looked irritated. "Bullshit. A citizen who is incapable of defending himself is dependent upon the state, whatever it may be, for his own safety. Whenever self-defense is denigrated, crimes, and especially violent crimes, rise dramatically. The blues can't be everywhere, and the criminals know it. When you turn the population into sheep, it attracts the wolves. Ah, hell, you got me off the subject. I want you to forget this revenge crap, and help us concentrate on surviving this fiasco. We need you Valt, and we need you thinking, not emoting. All right?" He clapped the big man on his back, making him lurch, then they gathered their clothing and weapons and walked out of the hold. Valt was looking very thoughtful.
After the eventful past few months, Jirik, Bran and Tor finally found the breakout for Farout comforting in its routine. It was only now that they were beginning to not feel a small thrill of fear and anticipation during and after breakout. Tor and Jirik exchanged rueful grins as they began maneuvering toward the planet, but they were soon engrossed in their pre-landing duties.
Tor glanced out the port as,they descended toward the spaceport, and felt a sudden wave of homesickness. Farout was an agricultural planet, one of three in the so-called Rim Worlds Coalition. It's settlements were as small and scattered as those of Boondock, though for a different reason. As far as Tor could see, in every direction, stretched a huge checkerboard of cultivated fields, relieved only occasionally by a tiny cluster of settlement. To Tor, it looked nearly identical to his home world of Corona. With it's sister planets of Beyond and Toolie, Farout was the breadbasket of the rim worlds. Between them, they produced enough to not only feed all of the rim worlds, but sold huge surpluses to neighboring Alliance planets.
Only one other vessel occupied the port, a Rim Tramp. Jirik thought that he recognized it from Boondock, but reminded himself not to ask. As they shut down their in-flight systems, Jirik noted the approach of several ground cars. He went to the lock to greet their visitors. First aboard was the Port Captain, followed by Customs and trade representatives. Cony had evidently learned something. No equivalent of Fanlin was on hand to pressure for immediate unloading. Jirik was unsurprised to be told that they could not be unloaded until the next local day, but he had to pretend to he frustrated by the delay. He was equally unsurprised when the Customs representative insisted on searching the ship, on the pretext of looking for alien, and possibly diseased plants, but he protested vigorously, for appearance's sake. When the officials left, Jirik joined the others in the mess.
"Well," he said as he entered, "Our friend Cony learns fast and well. There was no way that he was going to let us lift off this planet without being searched, and questioned, if necessary."
Bran chuckled. "He sure didn't waste any time getting the Lass searched! That Customs agent wasn't very good, though. He barely looked at the cargo. It was obvious that what he wanted was in the crew quarters!"
Jirik smiled. "Yeah. His excuse was that he was looking for potted plants, but he sure spent a lot of time looking at the overheads, and high up on the bulkheads!" He sobered. "Well, now Cony knows that there are no spy-eyes and no report from Via. His next move is to try to find out why."
Tor was trying to control his excitement. "I guess the next part's up to me!" He said with elaborate casualness
Jirik nodded somberly. "That's right, kid. You and Bran will go into town in a couple of hours. Damn! I still don't like this!"
Bran shrugged. "Nobody does, except Tor. I wish that there were another way, too!"
Nettled by the others' lack-of enthusiasm, Tor put in edgily, "I'll be all right; you don't have to worry about me! I can take care of myself!"
Valt snickered. "No, you can't, son." He rubbed his chest where the red welts had begun to fade, and added ruefully, "I've learned that there's more to defending yourself than you might think!"
Tor looked uncertainly at Valt before replying. "I'll have Bran with me! Between us, we should be able to handle anything that comes up." his tone was no longer as assured.
Jirik's somber expression hadn't softened. "Yeah, Bran will be with you. But any single man can be overwhelmed, no matter how good he is. I want you to constantly remember that your trip into town is not a liberty. Consider yourself part of a shore party on a hostile planet; and Bran is in command of that shore party. You'll obey every order that he gives you, no matter how absurd it seems; and you'll obey immediately, without argument."
Tor snapped straight in his chair. "Yessir!" he replied crisply.
Jirik turned to Bran. "Bran, you know that I trust you implicitly. Your job is to get Tor to where he can say his piece, and then get him out again. Stay together, even in the 'fresher; and keep your eyes wide open!"
Bran nodded soberly. "You can count on me, Captain."
A faint smile touched Jirik's lips. "I know that I can, Bran. Bring him back, preferably in one piece. I've gotten kinda used to having him underfoot!"
Tor flushed with pleasure and embarrassment at the compliment.
After Bran and Tor left, Jirik and Valt puttered nervously about the ship, giving up on one job after another as their nervousness and apprehension caused mistake after mistake.
Valt finally adjourned to his cabin to try to lose himself without success in his porn vids. Jirik tried to read, but gave up after finding himself trying to read the same passage for the sixth time without understanding it. He finally went to the darkened bridge, staring out into the planet's night, willing a ground car's lights to head for the Lass.
Nearly five hours passed before.his vigil was rewarded. Jirik headed for the passenger lock at a dead run, shouting for Valt. By the time that the ground car stopped at the Lass, Jirik and Valt were jittering in the open lock. Their combined sigh of relief at the sight of both Bran and Tor climbing from the ground car was monumental, and their welcome so enthusiastic as to border on hysteria. Both Bran and Tor had to endure back clappings, hand-shakings, and repeated demands of "What Happened?" from their ship-bound comrades as they adjourned to the mess.
Jirik and Valt waited impatiently as the others filled cups of coffee and found seats. Finally, Jirik could stand it no longer.
"Well?" He demanded gratingly, looking as though he would hit someone if his question wasn't immediately answered.
Bran grinned. "He was great, Captain. The kid carried it off like a professional!"
"You didn't have to fight, then?" Valt sounded slightly disappointed
Tor shook his head. "No, sir. Actually, it was kinda nice. Fun!"
Jirik's face was beet-red with anger and frustration "Report, Dammit!" he snarled.
Bran sobered instantly. "Sorry, Captain. I'd forgotten about the pressure you've been under these last few hours. Well, we went straight into town. We figured that the best place for an ambush would be the outskirts, the industrial and residential areas. We wandered around for.a fe
w minutes, so that anyone watching would think that we were just on liberty, rubbernecking. As soon as we could, though, we found a fairly quiet bar and went in. We took a table in the farthest corner from the door, bought drinks, and watched for something to happen."
"About fifteen minutes later," he continued after a sip of his coffee, "Four young people came in. They weren't obvious about it. They took a table some distance from ours, and ordered drinks. After a few minutes, this attractive young girl came over to our table."
"Attractive!" Tor cried, "She was gorgeous!"
Bran chuckled. "All right, 'gorgeous'. Anyway, she came over and started right in, asking Tor if he was 'really a spacer', and 'really flew between the stars on that big ship'. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up."
"I thought she was nice!" Tor protested.
This time, Bran's chuckle was joined by those of Jirik and Valt. "All right, Tor. She was nice. Of course," Bran continued, "She was told to be. At any rate, it wasn't long before she mentioned that she'd 'heard' that there had been a 'golden woman' on the ship. It went on from there. I'm sure you could fill in the dialogue yourself."
Jirik turned to Tor. "So, how did you handle it?"
Tor flushed. "Oh, it was easy, Captain. I told her mostly the truth about Via. That she was nice enough, but kinda kept to herself, didn't talk much. I told her about outrunning the pirates, and stuff like that, but she kept coming back to Via."
Bran's smile was sardonic. "She was good, Captain. She made it painless, but she found out everything there was to know about Via. Or at least everything that we wanted her to know. Tor was good, too. Very professional. I'm sure that she doesn't think Tor's the brightest light in the Galaxy, but I'm certain that she thinks she got everything that he knew."
Jirik grinned at Tor's outraged expression, but his grin was strongly tinged with relief. "Great!" he replied. "You've both done very well. With any luck, we can pretty much forget about this spy crap for awhile; at least, until we get to Wayoff. On the other hand, If Cony's a suspicious bastard, he might insist on confirming the information. So, stay alert. We're not out of danger yet!"
The four discussed the evening's adventure until quite late. The next local morning Jirik groaned as he got up early to greet the longshoremen who were to offload their cargo, and the representative from the planetary library who was to accept delivery. Since Jirik felt that it would seem suspicious if he slowed their pace after acting so hurried on Boondock, He continued to press for the earliest possible departure. That evening, at 2000 Local, the Lass lifted off.
One by one the planetary stopovers passed without incident, though the crew remained on guard. With each stopover Jirik became more and more impressed with the self-sufficiency of the Rim Worlds Coalition. Each world contributed to the whole. Boondock and Varner's World were mining planets, contributing raw materials to the manufacturing worlds of Outback, Border and Yonder. The agricultural worlds of Farout, Beyond and'Toolie fed the others. The remaining planet, Wayoff, was the trading center of the rim.
With each stop, Jirik also became more and more haunted by Bran's words, back on Boondock. If this "Rim Worlds Coalition" rebelled as a unit, the Alliance was in deep trouble.
As they lifted off from each planet in turn, the tension aboard the Lass rose slightly as the crewmen saw their planetfall on Wayoff approaching closer and closer. As they lifted from Toolie, their next-to-last stop, the tension became nearly palpable.
As soon as they jumped on the last leg of their rim voyage, the crew again assembled in the mess to discuss their situation.
Jirik summed up the fears of all of them. "This is it," he said, "If anything is going to happen, it's going to happen on Wayoff. The question is," he continued, "What can we do about it: and how can we best ensure that we leave Wayoff alive?"
"I see three possibilities," Bran replied. "One, Tomys is right about everything. Cony's going to try to recruit us, or at least you, but will try to kill us if he can't. Two, He's wrong about them trying to recruit us, and Cony will try to kill us and grab the Lass. Or, Three, It's all crap, and we'll simply unload, get paid, and lift off unmolested."
Jirik shrugged. "Well, I don't see much hope of that last one happening. Too many things have happened that just wouldn't add up if it were all innocent."
Valt was alarmed. "But both of the other options involve them trying to kill us!"
"That's right," Jirik replied somberly. "So, we're going to take all of the precautions we can until we know for sure which way it goes. Even if he tries to hire me, or us, I can't cave in and sell out too cheaply. That would only make Cony suspicious, and more likely to kill us just as a precaution. So, I've got to try to hold him up for big credits. The trouble is that that could be just as risky. If I go too high, he may decide that it's not worth it, and kill us anyway. We're walking a very thin tightrope in heavy G."
"Yeah," Bran agreed, "and we can't just hole up aboard and prepare for attack. We've got cargo to deliver. That means strangers aboard, no matter what we do, and any of them could be carrying a gas bomb, or a weapon. Besides, if we don't collect our payment, we're effectively broke, and marooned on that damned planet. We won't even have enough operating capital to refuel and reprovision. Two of us have to leave the Lass."
"Besides," Jirik added, "I have to deliver Cony's damned battle comp software and weapon specs. Talk about walking into the spider's web!"
"Damn!" Valt exploded. "Between them, Tomys and Cony have trapped us right in the middle! Well, To hell with both of them! What can we do?"
"I've been giving it some thought," Jirik replied in massive understatement. "First, I'm going to break an ironclad rule. Before we break out, each man will draw a weapon from the weapons locker, to carry at all times until further notice. Second, during unloading, those not directly involved in the unloading itself will remain on the bridge until unloading is complete.
We'll take spacesuit breathing units and hide them on the bridge. That way, if one of the workmen does have a gas bomb, you'll be ready. Bran, I want you to rig a sniffer to detect gas, with an alarm on the bridge." Bran nodded, and Jirik continued, "We'll need four breathing units. If one of those guys does have a gas bomb, it will be on a delay timer, to get us all."
"While we're unloading, you'll keep the passenger lock closed, and the intruder alarm activated. Damn! I wish I'd kept a couple of those spy-eyes! If we had some, you guys could monitor the longshoremen; watch for suspicious actions." He shrugged. "No use crying over spilled beer. We'll just have to do the best we can."
"When I go to town to deliver the contraband and get paid, I'll take one of you with me. The other two will secure the locks and fort up aboard. One can search the hold for a bomb, but the other is to stay on the bridge, monitoring port comm traffic, and watching for anyone heading for the Lass.
"They won't risk a frontal attack; that would attract too much attention. No, it'll be some innocent-looking person or official, with a genuine-sounding errand. If someone does approach, One of you will go to him, while the other covers him from concealment. Don't go to the lock alone, no matter how innocent it looks. I don't give a crap if your mother walks up to the lock. You'll treat her as an assassin until proven otherwise. Clear?"
Three heads nodded glumly. "How soon will we know what's going on?" Tor wanted to know.
Jirik shrugged. "There's no way of telling. We'll simply offload, then go to collect our pay. I have no idea when Cony's agent will try to contact me for delivery of the contraband, or if Tomys will try to contact us. We're having to play a lot of this thing by ear, and I don't like it. We're just going to have to be ready for anything."
Valt was amazed at the quantity and variety of weapons that Jirik kept in the weapons locker. Jirik hadn't been exaggerating his collection. As the crew expert on individual weapons, Jirik helped the others pick out weapons suited to their abilities. The unskilled Tor received a small hand laser. The laser was good for only a few shots, but Jirik gave Tor two
spare cells. Valt received a larger, military-model needler, since his large frame would permit its concealment. Each of the needler's magazines contained over a thousand 2mm hardened alloy projectiles, which it sprayed in steady stream. While each needle produced minimal damage, half a magazine would punch a hole in a brick wall. Valt also received two spare magazines, prompting him to wonder loudly if he was expected to fight off an army. Bran also chose a needler, a smaller pocket version.
Breakout and maneuvering for Wayoff was strictly routine, though traffic was heavy. Wayoff was the only rim world with a space station permitting the reception of larger ships. Since no ship larger than Delta or DIN Class was capable of planetary landings, only Wayoff, of all the rim worlds, had much direct contact with other Alliance and Empire planets. Jirik was slightly surprised to see a Beta Class freighter loading cargo, as he had assumed that commerce along the rim was handled by the ubiquitous rim tramps. Jirik nudged the Lass toward a berth just being vacated by a rim tramp.
As the docking clamps gripped the Lass' hull, Jirik breathed a sigh of relief. After the last few months of visiting the largely isolated rim worlds, he was bothered more than he cared to admit by the congested space around Wayoff.
Wayoff was also the first of the rim worlds at which the Port Captain sent a deputy, instead of coming himself The man examined the ship's papers and manifests perfunctorily, and assigned them space in the bonded warehouse area in which to store their cargo. Once offloaded, the man explained, they would be required to vacate their present berth, and take up station orbiting the planet until their business was completed, commuting by the Lass' lifeboat. The man only nodded at Jirik's "Busy port!"
The Rim Rebels Page 25