Pirates of the Outrigger Rift

by Gary Jonas

  “That’s what Thorne thought. Sometimes it pays to be subtle.”

  The informant’s indistinct form nodded. “Point taken. How do you feel about swords?”

  “Stupidest idea ever,” Glenn said.

  “Glenn, we are going to get along splendidly.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  You are entering restricted space. Identify yourself,” a voice said from the com.

  Hank pressed the comlink control. “This is Hank Jensen, skipper of the free-trader Elsa. I have Sai Collins on board to see Lord Randol. We should be expected.”

  “Stand by.”

  Hank turned to Sai and shrugged.

  “Access denied,” the voice said. “Leave orbit immediately. You are not authorized for operations in this area.”

  “Wait a minute! There must be some mistake. We have something to deliver. It’s very important. We’re supposed to ask for Jorgeson.”

  “That’s me, and I don’t know you. No entry exists for a Sai Collins, Hank Jensen, or any ship called Elsa. You must leave immediately or we will take defensive action.”

  Sai pressed the broadcast button. “Please, it’s important. Chandler sent me. He told me to speak to Lord Randol. I have to see him.”

  “You have ten seconds to break orbit or you will be destroyed. I suggest you start moving. One … two … three … four …”

  “We’d better leave, Sai. We can try to straighten it out later,” Hank said. “Elsa, get us out of here.”

  “Seven … eight …”

  “Yeah, yeah, you count real good, jackass,” Hank said.

  Elsa broke orbit, arcing away from Mordi into open space. “Where to, Hank?”

  “Set us down on Trent.”

  Sai rubbed her brow. “What are we going to do?”

  “You call Chandler and see if you can find out why Randol won’t see us. Something may have happened we don’t know about. In the meantime, we’ll go ahead and land on Trent. We still have some repairs to make, and we need to regroup and plan our next move.”

  “What move? What can we do?”

  Hank shrugged. “Get supplies, lots of them. There’s a price on our head from the corporation. We may need to find a rabbit hole somewhere and sit in it for a long, long time.”

  “It’s unavoidable,” Oke said, toying with the hem of his kimono. “We must sell a part of the corporation in order to save it. If we all part with some of our shares, we can bring in the capital to keep us in business. There is no alternative.”

  The lords were all there in holo form around the council table. Randol shook his head. “There are always alternatives for those who have the balls to stay the course. There are far too many shares available out there as it is.”

  “If we do nothing, we’ll go bankrupt,” Hemming said. She wore a huge, multi-colored feathered headdress that flowed halfway down her back and looked six paces beyond ridiculous. “This is not a time for dawdling. We need to solve this problem and move on. It will hardly matter. No one can afford to buy enough stock to challenge us. We will still control operations and when we return to profitability, the value of our holdings will again rise.”

  “How does this sell-off solve anything?” Randol asked. “It’s a crust of bread to a starving man. We might live a few more months, but the problem remains—Thorne. He has bled us dry and he will continue to do so no matter how we split the stocks.”

  Hemming threw up her arms. “Thorne? Does everything revolve around Thorne in your mind? This is more than just a problem with a pirate. Our lifestyles are on the line.”

  “Your free ride, you mean,” Randol said. “My family has never sold our holdings. We’ve created wealth off our dividends and lived within our means. And more importantly, I think you might feel differently if your daughter had been attacked by Thorne and her whereabouts were still unknown.”

  “Milords,” Oke said. “We must put aside these petty differences and look to our duty,” he said, slowly circling the table. “If the corporation is to survive, we need capital—now. Although it’s usually wise to move slowly and ponder each step carefully, we don’t have that luxury in this case.”

  “All we need to do is cut back,” Randol said. “Consolidate operations. Put more of our profits back in to the company rather than paying ourselves. Use only escorted convoy shipments for a while. Stare Thorne down by preventing him from getting any of our cargo. He’ll go broke eventually with no income stream.”

  “And how much would that cost? How much revenue would we lose delaying shipments?” Hemming said. “I have bills to pay that won’t wait.”

  “You created your own crisis. If you hadn’t built such a monstrous lifestyle, you could afford to weather the storm,” Randol said. “We have a responsibility to our workers to provide stable employment.”

  Oke snorted. “Milord, with all due respect, the workers couldn’t care less about Nebulaco. We’re a convenience. The workers would relocate to new jobs created by the other corporations in the vacuum left by our demise. Only we lords and those few execs in the upper echelon would suffer. I urge you to swallow your pride in the name of survival.”

  “Our families put their sweat and blood into this venture. They squeezed an empire out of the barren wilderness. We exist today because of their suffering. I think we can afford to suffer a bit, too. I, for one, am willing to funnel my earnings back into the corporation in order to see us through these hard times. What about you?” Randol looked squarely into the holographic eyes of both his fellow lords.

  “Not all of us live like Spartans,” Oke said. “Some of us have delicate sensibilities that require that certain needs be maintained.”

  “You’re a worthless, pampered fool! We have no idea who the stock buyers might be. For all we know this could be an underhanded attempt at a takeover by another corporation,” Randol said, disgusted.

  “That would be illegal,” Oke said.

  “So? Look at the numbers. Originally our three families each owned thirty-three and one-third percent of the company. An equal share for all. Over the years, your families have sold off portions of stock here and there for whatever frivolous reason. Now you only have a fifteen percent share each. Still, all together we represent sixty-three and one-third of the stock. If we each sell off five percent as proposed, that will drop us to forty-eight and one-third percent. That’s below fifty-one percent ownership, and we could lose control of the corporation.”

  “Ridiculous. The figures look good,” Oke said. “No one party has anything close to the ten percent block required to forcefully join the Council, and no one could afford to purchase it. That’s all that really matters. The rest of the stock is distributed among the rabble. This latest offering will be no different.”

  Hemming sighed. “Lord Randol, I feel that you’re making far too much of this issue. When we return to profitability we can each begin buying back our stock. After all, we have been entrusted to safeguard the existence of the corporation, and this seems to be the only way to save it. We all take our duty seriously, but each in our own way.”

  “You take your excursions seriously. You take your safari hunts seriously. You care only that your dividends come on time to pay for your extravagant hobbies.”

  “You go too far, Randol,” she said.

  “Go too far? You’re thinking about selling off more of the company and you think I’m going too far? What if one person buys all the stock? What if somebody does have that kind of money? What if someone from Galaxia, Inc. wants to buy in? We’d have another megacorporation represented on the Council of Lords!”

  Oke sighed. “The other corporations would never approve it. They don’t want that kind of consolidation; it would be the beginning of the end. There has to be a separation for trade to be effective.”

  Hemming shook her head, making the feathers shuffle about. “I don’t see why you’re so upset, Randol. Our families have sold stock before.”

  “My point is that this could destroy Nebulaco. Altho
ugh in the past we Randols have allowed your family’s madness, my vote will be no. I will not sell off any of my current share.”

  “Our shares alone won’t be enough to save the company.”

  Randol shook his head. “I am saving the company. There is no need for further discussion. As it so happens, with my holdings representing twenty-eight percent of the total stock I have control of the vote already. I say no. There will be no sale.” The room quieted for a moment.

  Oke broke the silence. “Lord Randol, I have been very patient. I have listened to your abuse for years and ignored your insults. But this is too much. I didn’t want to bring this up in open council until I had the opportunity to check into some details, but I’m afraid this turn of events forces my hand.” He turned toward the front of the room. “Mr. Maxwell, please enter.”

  The door to the conference room opened and Vincent Maxwell walked briskly up to the table and sat down. He opened a briefcase and removed a small com with a projection holo presentation screen. Maxwell turned the unit on, and a glowing blank screen appeared in the air in front of him.

  “You may begin, Mr. Maxwell,” Oke said.

  “Are you sure you want me to present this now?” Maxwell asked.

  “Definitely.”

  Maxwell cleared his throat, then addressed them. “After receiving some anonymous reports of unusual activity, and after Lord Randol’s spirited defense of the traitor Frederick Casey, the security division began an investigation into Lord Randol’s finances.”

  “How dare you! I am a lord. You have no right to do such a thing,” Randol said.

  “I approved the investigation, Randol,” Oke said. “We needed to get to the truth.”

  Maxwell continued. “We have uncovered some, shall we say, curiosities.”

  An animated graph appeared. A red line moved along the axis of time and upward along an axis of deposit totals. “Large deposits have appeared in a private account coinciding with the pirate raids over the past two years.”

  Dots appeared with the names of ships and cargo manifests at the point in time when they were attacked. The red line turned sharply upward at each point representing a pirate attack. “All the while the corporation has been suffering, this account has been growing.”

  Randol fumed. “Now see here! What are you talking about? I demand an explanation for these lies!”

  Oke shook his head. “I’m sorry, Randol, but you had to know that sooner or later your activities would be discovered.”

  “What do you mean? What activities? What are you trying to say?”

  “It’s obvious that you planted Casey in order to have him cooperate with Thorne to steal from the corporation.”

  “But—” Randol stared at the numbers in horror. They detailed transactions he knew had never taken place. “This is impossible. I have no such account.”

  “It’s encoded with your private identifiers as the account holder,” Maxwell said.

  “Yes, and only known by myself and Helen—wait! That must be it. They must have gotten the codes from her. Tortured them out of her. That’s it! This is all one of Thorne’s tricks. Don’t you see?”

  “I don’t see anything of the sort,” said Oke. “All I see is that your account balances have jumped while Nebulaco’s have plummeted, and based on the dates, many of these transactions are from before Helen was taken. Do you have some sort of death wish for this corporation? You rob it blind and then try to obstruct us from doing the one thing that could save it?”

  “Don’t you people see what’s happening here? I’m innocent! They must have used my daughter against me! They fabricated this charade.”

  Hemming looked on with distaste. “I know one thing, Randol. We will gather in a few days for the formal vote. If you don’t agree to sell off your five percent along with the rest of us, we’ll be turning you over to the authorities to pay for your criminal activities. The one thing a lord cannot do is act so blatantly against corporate law.” She turned to look into Randol’s eyes. “If it comes to it, we’ll take every share you own.”

  Maxwell shook his head. “Now let’s not be hasty, Lady Hemming. We must allow Lord Randol the opportunity to make his defense. Let me continue the investigation. Lord Randol could be correct. Casey’s shadow organization was malicious and not beyond manufacturing something that might be used to pressure each of the lords if needed at the right time. Involving the Confed and voting to strip Lord Randol of his stock seems extreme before we can actually verify the charges. After all, we must be fair.”

  Chandler lay in his bunk on the Marlowe trying to will himself to sleep, but he was enduring another night talking to unsettled ghosts. Faces of friends and comrades.

  More than likely talking to Richmond had stirred the pot. They had served together during one of the endless border wars on the fringe. Back then he was invincible. They all were. Or at least they thought so until a random bolt of energy or stray round ended their illusions. Then those strong, smiling men and women turned to surprised, saddened children who died in confusion.

  But it was always someone else who died. Someone else who picked up the check and let the others get away without paying the cost. No matter how much time went by, he still felt the debt weighing on his soul. When was Mike Chandler going to settle his account?

  He needed to talk to someone. He thought about calling up Sheila Sanders. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year. For a while they had run around together on Dar Es Salaam, enjoying the nightlife and generally spending every cent Chandler made working as an insurance investigator for a local ship underwriter.

  Chandler sat up in bed and rubbed his face. He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He poured himself a few fingers’ worth of the amber liquid and took a swallow.

  He felt the bite of the liquor and let the fiery warmth fill his gut.

  No, calling Sheila would be a bad idea. She was too beautiful and too smart to stay alone this long. She would answer the vid and have that awkward look on her face, and then she would do her damnedest to be gentle and kind as she cut his balls off by whispering to some man offscreen.

  His comlink sounded. He looked at the ID. It was Sai.

  “Chandler,” he answered.

  “I thought you said that Lord Randol was expecting us.”

  “He is. I thought you would have been there by now.”

  “Long story. The ship was damaged, but we just got to Mordi and were turned away by Randol’s goons. They nearly blasted us out of orbit.”

  Chandler shook his head. “There’s been a mistake, or there’s something very wrong. Tell you what, set down on Trent. There is a town called Last Chance with a small landing facility. I’ll contact Lord Randol directly and head that way.”

  “Hurry,” Sai said. “You aren’t the only one who’s looking for us.”

  The call ended.

  Chandler stood and walked from his cabin to the cockpit. There he plotted a course to Trent and activated the drive. The situation was all sorts of messed up.

  He’d wondered why Randol hadn’t informed him that the courier had delivered the data. Sai had been delayed, and now either Randol had lied to him and was playing some sort of game, or one of his security men was on the take.

  He called Randol to find out. The old man answered quickly.

  “Yes, Mr. Chandler. What is it? Have you found Helen?”

  Chandler shook his head. “No. I have located the Aurelius and the Confed is doing a recovery. I even found an ex-employee of Thorne’s who gave me extensive information on the operations at the pirate base, but until I can find a pilot with the coordinates, all we know is that the base is somewhere in the Outrigger Rift. But that’s not why I called. Are you at home?”

  “Yes, I just attended a board meeting. Why?”

  “The courier just tried to make her delivery but she was turned away.”

  Randol raised a finger. “No. That’s impossible. I left specific instructions.”


  “Well, you’d better check. I think there’s a good chance you have a traitor in your household security staff.”

  “But they’ve been with me so long.”

  Chandler nodded. “Yes, and they’ve been leeching both you and someone else for a long time. Do me a favor and arm yourself just in case. I wouldn’t trust anyone right now and I don’t know how far they might go to protect themselves. I told Sai to have her pilot take her to Trent. I’m on the way and pretty close to you. They need protection, so have a detail of men go meet them. We need to hurry. Whoever sent them away has already told his bosses that the courier was just there.”

  “Yes, Mr. Chandler. We need to get that datastore. I have the access codes, so we should be able to discover its secrets soon. Hopefully, it may hold more clues as to Helen’s location.”

  “I hope so. The best I can say now is that she’s out there somewhere.”

  Chandler ended the conversation and got in the shower. He had just gotten wet when the comlink sounded again.

  “What now?” Chandler said to himself as he turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist before answering. He was surprised to see Maxwell’s face appear on the screen wearing a cheesy business smile.

  “What are you selling?” Chandler asked.

  “I understand that Randol still has you running after leads on his daughter.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I have a proposition for you,” Maxwell said.

  “This is so sudden. We hardly know each other.”

  Maxwell gave a tight smile. “Lord Randol’s investigation is a farce. That’s not your fault. In fact, you’ve been doing exceedingly well with what you had to work with. But the entire affair is a waste of time and money. Not only that, but he is endangering my own investigation into Thorne.”

  “Your own investigation? How’s that going for you?”

  “Certainly you’re intelligent enough to know he’s been sending you off chasing ghosts to create a smoke screen. We’ve discovered that Randol has been embezzling money from the corporation. This supposed kidnapping of his daughter is just a ruse.”