Backed into a corner Cameron nodded. "The University claims to be afraid of upsetting the Lawless, but if the Lawless happen upon the expedition's survivors who knows what they'll do?"
Lawless was a generic term for the beings that lived outside of Laniakea. The term indicated that they were adapted to survive in the region of different physics rather than indicate they had no system of governance, but no one really knew what happened in the region. The Lawless had technology that worked no better inside Laniakea than Laniakeaian technology worked outside of it, and so the peoples from the one region of space seldom interacted with the peoples of the other.
"They are alive. They have to be." Cameron's gaze dropped to the table's surface. "My daughter is with them."
Last time Kassad had seen Cameron's daughter she'd barely been big enough to totter a few steps at a time, although that had been a long time ago, certainly a lot longer than it felt. "Listen Cameron, I can make time in my schedule, but I can't take on charity work." In truth it had been a good year and Kassad had just spent the equivalent of a regular working man's monthly salary on the boots he prominently displayed. "If I'm going to risk my neck beyond Law's End it has to make financial sense."
Most ship captains kept well clear of the Law's End regions that surrounded Laniakea. Stories of the strange things that could happen just by getting too close to the barrier were likely nothing more than stories, but the reputation held. No one with any sense tempted fate too often by tangling with the unknown, and stories of horror often made a more convincing excuse than common sense.
Using words that were a bit too well rehearsed Cameron said, "I've contacted the families of those in the expedition and put forward a lot of my personal wealth. We can pay you three million in preferred University script."
Begrudgingly Kassad would concede that Cameron was the smarter of the two of them, but three million in preferred University script was just slightly too much. It was an ample enough amount in such a way that it must have been calculated to be so. If it had been ordinary University script it would have been too little, but even considering the limited utility of University script in general it was still a lot of money. Under optimal conditions Kassad could hope to make the equivalent of three million before overhead costs in five years. He was accustomed to risking his life for far less working the legally grey areas of blockade running and smuggling and this was legitimate rescue work.
As smart as Cameron undeniably was he'd inadvertently tipped his hand that he could afford a lot more and Kassad wasn't one to let such an opportunity go. "Thirty million." Kassad replied calculating that ten times the initial offer should be absurd enough to elicit a reaction that would allow him to gauge how much the job was really worth.
Cameron's eyes went wide. It wasn't the wide eyed desperate look of 'how can I raise that much money' either. It was the startled guilty look of a man who'd just been caught cheating at cards.
Recovering badly Cameron complained, "You must be joking. I might be able to get six together. That's going to take time."
It was only by the barest self restraint that Kassad was able to keep himself from smiling as he dramatically pushed his drink away disdainfully. Cameron's haggling skills were so poor he'd just given away that he could come up double his initial offer. Double of anything was not something anyone scraped together out of desperation, and a clear indication that Kassad should keep pressing for more.
Making a show of thoughtfully considering the offer Kassad finally relented, "Very well, and only because of our history my old friend, I'll come down to twenty."
"That's unreasonable." Cameron blurted in offense, then seeing that the outburst had no affect on Kassad his face hardened, "I'll go nine, no more."
Shrugging Kassad removed his glorious new boots from the table top and moved to leave saying, "Fine, have it your way."
"No, wait." Cameron hesitated and bit his lip in frustration. "I can pay twelve."
Had Cameron been paying better attention he would have noticed that Kassad had left his white noise generator behind when he began to leave. If he'd been a better negotiator he'd have suspected Kassad would back down on his price if pressed. Cameron was clearly focused on other things, but then even Kassad was distracted from the details of the negotiation.
In addition to forgetting about the white noise device Kassad had also quickly forgotten about the risks and unknown variables involved in the venture. In Kassad's mind the thought of twenty years pay for a few weeks work, no matter how dangerous, was too seductive to ignore. Not that it would allow his former mentor off the hook for the consequences of bad bargaining.
Nodding sympathetically Kassad returned to his spot at the table. "Because this is about family I'll settle for fifteen all in advance."
Red faced Cameron hesitated and then conceded, "Okay, fifteen, but all paid after you return."
Kassad grinned, the man wasn't completely hopeless. "And I get paid whether or not they're still alive. You can't hold me responsible for the laws of physics can you?"
Cameron returned a twisted version of Kassad's grin. "You'll also take along someone who knows the situation."
"And to make sure I do my best to fulfill the contract no doubt. Who will this be, you?" Kassad chuckled at the thought of the University man putting himself in harm's way.
"It's another concerned relative." Cameron explained while a tone from the mobile device attached to Kassad's wrist tried to alert him to some event. "They're already looking over your ship." It only took a glance at the device to confirm that someone had entered the rented hanger where his ship, the Sabha, was docked. "Ursula Greene, her husband is on the expedition, and she did most of the data correlation work on what they managed to send back."
Cameron extended his mobile device and Kassad tapped his own device against it. Almost instantly the two machines reached a legal accord, presenting the final legalese to their owners for confirmation. After a cursory review of the document that was mostly a formality both men agreed to the terms as discussed and transcribed.
Chapter 2: "The Sabha"
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-Classified advertisement.
Massive cargo loaders deposited their payloads precisely where indicated in the large cylindrical hanger. The robot's tiny sensor mount head swiveled to assess the approval of the individual directing their work. In many deliberate ways the robot mimicked a well trained pet in the fashion that was intended to help those who suffered from common robot related phobias.
Ursula Greene gave the machine a forced smile and nod in order to dismiss it as she struggled to adjust her new spacer's suit for the umpteenth time. At a tenth over two meters in height she'd found plenty of off the rack options that were presumably compatible with her fashionably well defined musculature. After thousands of years of space travel she expected that the compact and light weight life support suits should have fit like a glove. In spite of this history the life support systems built into what looked like no more than a one piece swimsuit over the skin tight pressure garment kept shifting to her left. This perpetual shifting required her to periodically twist and stretch her torso to force the suit back around to where its weight was more evenly distributed.
Whistling happily the cargo handling robot lifted up and out of the hanger leaving Greene rolling her shoulders in exaggerated fashion. It was an act of mild desperation, taking of advice from the store clerk who had sold her the suit, and ignored the many years of experience from Greene's own youth. Amazingly this act did manage to seat the suit properly and in fact it now felt more natural on her form than it had since she'd first put it on. Experimentally twisting and flexing Greene smiled approvingly at the fit then cycled through the preprogrammed high visibility patterns until settling on a light pink and
yellow combination.
A twinge of unease swept over her as she remembered that the suit was all that might stand between her and death by vacuum or radiation. She'd practically grown up in space, and at one time had been comfortable with its dangers and methodical procedures that kept them at bay. It wasn't until the second year she'd spent down a world's gravity well that the weight of having to constantly check and double check life vital systems finally lifted. Now the quiet fear threatened to rush back with its insistent demanding that she check her new suit's systems and then check them again.
It went without saying that Greene would have given just about anything to avoid going into space. These days she was a data analyst with a narrow specialist set of skills and not a heroic deep space rescue crewman. It also went without saying that for the mission to have the best chance of success someone who knew what to expect should be along.
In the absence of the rest of the research team Misses Ursula Greene had been left as the leading Laws End expert on this side of the barrier. Abstract analysis of non-mathematical data that had to be justified to predictive models that in turn were based on very fluid math was a highly specialized field with few practitioners. That she hadn't been in the actual field where the work was being done had been almost purely a result of her almost phobic aversion to space travel of any kind.
Having grown up the daughter of an ambitious corporate troubleshooter, whose work had taken them all over the hundred thousand galaxies, Greene had developed a keen love of routine and predictability. The old adage that there was 'no substitute for being there' had no weight when she measured it against 'all the comforts of home'. Her father had risen through the ranks to achieve his goals and his daughter had worked hard to create a life for herself that was as much the polar opposite of what she had grown up with as possible.
It was Greene's own distaste for space travel that made her involvement in the whole disaster that much more frustrating. If she'd simply heeded her own wisdom in the first place she would now be safely at home with her husband. Instead she'd convinced herself and then her husband to take the job that had ultimately stranded him beyond Law's End. All the opportunities that the work would have opened up for both of them had been greedily pursued against her own common sense.
That it was very likely neither of them would have a job, if and when they made it back, was of little concern. Abandonment by the University was just another obstacle to be overcome, and one quite distant. Questions of 'how' demanded answers and questions of 'what next' would wait. The only thing that mattered now was saving the man she'd promised to spend the rest of her life with.
Ideally they'd have recruited a licensed rescue and recovery operation, however there simply weren't any both able and willing to take the job. After that option had been exhausted word had gotten around and even the salvage crews quickly refused any part of the rescue. In the end Fitzgerald had been forced to call upon less reputable resources who wouldn't ask any questions as long as the money was right.
In the time of plenty and peace that those alive had been lucky enough to be born into there were few willing to risk their lives for simple monetary rewards while the vastness of space rendered pursuits of fame meaningless. The richness of Laniakea and advances in technology provided even the poorest a standard of living unimaginable in ages past. It took a special sort of madness to make someone willingly work in that deadliest of environments and University professionals sometimes found cultivating such contacts to be worthwhile.
Under the spinning wheels of commerce and well below any sense of greater belonging it was the steady flow of information that was the glue that made things work. Nothing else came close to the universal appeal of information among the radically alien and loosely associated civilizations of Laniakea. Fortunes could be spent but information was eternal, and it was the University that kept the flow of information going.
Whenever Greene permitted herself to fume internally for a moment about the University's abandoning of the expedition the release only served to fuel her frustration. It was frustrating that all the progress they'd made was now going to be lost. It was even more frustrating that they'd had to rely on some kind of space-pirate to do the work more reputable persons would not.
On its face the idea of a space-pirate was something Greene found laughable. That someone might fancy themselves in that image was certainly possible, but it mainly spoke to mental illness. That anyone could long ply such a trade was implausible. That the person in question would go to such lengths to modify a vessel for that purpose was worrying. Taken altogether the vessel she now looked over told a story that was equal parts troubling and absurd.
Greene was going over the manifest for the third time when at the other end of the hanger the space-pirate in question arrived. Even though the figure was obscured by the bulk of the spacecraft Greene had already painted a complete portrait of a self-envisioned swashbuckling rogue in her mind. She found that she was annoyed with the individual before having ever met them and rather than introduce herself Greene began organizing the cargo and ignoring the ship's captain entirely.
For his part Kassad made no move to introduce himself as he was captivated by the stark beauty of his vessel. It never failed to make Kassad's heart leap when setting eyes on his ship after a separation no matter how short. The pride and joy of Kassad's life was the Sabha. Every line and surface about her spoke to Kassad of opportunities and freedom.
The Sabha had started its life as a classic Terran design long range patrol ship where it had served unspectacularly for many years until finally retired. Sold at auction she'd been converted to use as a speculative merchant and passed through several hands in strokes of fortune both good and bad. Finally she'd been rebuilt as a jack-of-all-trades adventurer's ship.
At least that's what it said in the official registries. Of course what some called adventuring other less charitable sorts called smuggling, blockade running, and sometime pirating. More often than not it was the legitimate work as speculative merchant, long range survey freelancer, and contract transport that kept the books in the black and the authorities from labeling her a pirate vessel. Sabha did it all and she did it well.
Sabha was a windowless sleek and sturdy craft with many fine attributes inherited from her military design. The glossy black flattened and conjoined tear drop hull was a concession to atmospheric maneuvering that did much to minimize her cross section to active scans. Inside the hull the graceful sloping provided many small voids around the hull of which any number could see service as concealed smuggler's holds.
The Sabha's combat grade hull was compartmentalized, armored, and heavily shielded against radiation and magnetic effects. Originally outfitted with a military specification plasma shield, long since removed, this had allowed her to lurk inside otherwise deadly zones of radiation. In private service these features had allowed her to undertake dangerous and lucrative missions to map the edges of Law's End without making the task a suicide mission.
Military service and private Law's End mapping missions were all part of Sabha's history before coming into Kassad's possession. His relationship with the vessel that now provided and consumed most of his livelihood had begun only a decade prior. It had been a love at first sight which had only intensified as he came to know her strengths more intimately.
It terms of her prowess there were few ships faster or more maneuverable under slower than light conditions. Sporting a conventional iron core reactionless drive ample to a vessel of her mass Sabha could maintain one and a half gravity acceleration as long as power was supplied to it. Reactionless thrust was supplemented by a pair of fuel guzzling independently vectored fusion drives that could briefly increase acceleration to an excess of six gravities of acceleration.
In addition to her conventional propulsion systems Sabha had been equipped with two separate drive systems for faster than light travel both of which operated on different principles. There was a fourth generation long range jump dr
ive for instantaneous travel, and then there was a more modest sixth generation warp drive for both shorter distances and long duration flights. Neither of these systems were original equipment as those had been outdated even before her initial retirement. With shrewd use of the drive systems the Sabha could travel anywhere within the hundred thousand galaxies, no matter how isolated or remote, in under a month.
As a civilian ship all of Sabha's weapons had been removed for the sake of appearances, but those appearances were only surface deep. While the authorities may look dimly upon military weapons on a civilian craft they wouldn't look twice at a mining survey laser or long range gas analysis particle beam. Each was tuned to work exactly as advertised and in a pinch could be safely overloaded to provide long range firepower not too dissimilar to what the ship had originally been outfitted for.
In all respects Sabha was a fine ship, and she was probably as perfect for this mission as any other that could be named. Unfortunately that was an assumption based on almost no evidence. It was one thing to skirt the edges of Law's End. It was something else entirely to dive fully in. Few ships, no matter how well outfitted, had ever returned from deep dives through the barrier.
There were a lot of unanswered questions. There were a lot of potentially deadly variables. Unfortunately the people with the answers were all beyond Law's End and a great deal would have to be taken on faith.
Thirty years worth of income encouraged a lot of faith, but Kassad was no simple mercenary. More than the financial incentive there was the potential to have some of Laniakea's finest minds indebted to him in gratitude for saving their lives. Thumbing his nose at the University which had effectively exiled him was a serious temptation as well. Perhaps more than anything else after hearing spacer's tales about the barrier for so many years Kassad just wanted to see what all the fuss was about with his own eyes. On faith he felt that with all things considered together the job had to be worth some risk.
Law's End Page 2