“Nicely done,” sounded a voice over Ian’s comm.
He recognized the voice as human so he knew he was not speaking to the Red-tail. “Who am I speaking to?”
“Axia Cruiser Doral. That was some neat maneuvering and shooting there. Think we’ll try it sometime.”
“Be my guest,” Ian said. “Thought of it a while back but this is the first chance I’ve had to try it.”
“You sure put on a nice show,” replied the Doral. “We tracked this Red-tail to this sector and then lost him in the debris. Guess he thought he had lost us. He only showed up when he spotted you.”
Ian secured the Cahill’s weapons systems. “I didn’t pick you up either. Thought I was out here all lonesome like.”
“This isn’t our usual patrol area, but like I said, he led us out here,” the Doral replied. “Now, do you want the prize or shall we do the honors?”
“You can have the prisoner if that’s what you’re asking,” Ian answered. The thought of a captive Red-tail on the Express was something he did not want to contemplate. Best leave them to the Axia. They were far better equipped to handle them.
“However, I claim salvage interest in what’s left of the ship.”
“It’s all yours after we pull its logs and records,” the Doral returned. “If you want to, you can dock and come aboard while the boarding team tidies up.”
“Just show me where.”
A few seconds later, Ian saw the cruiser hove into view and a green light start blinking above a docking hatch.
Ian maneuvered the Express around and brought the ship up to match vectors with the much larger cruiser. It only took a few spins of the axis ball to bring the ships together for a secure lock.
As soon as Ian heard the docking clamps lock down, he powered down the drive and unstrapped from the control chair.
Striding back to his work area, he unlocked the system and retrieved a portable pad outlining what he had for sale or trade. This cruiser was an opportunity too good to pass up. If it was typical, its crew had been on station for a while and would welcome almost any distraction. Out of the four-hundred or so crew on board, he should have no trouble finding a few paying customers.
Ian unsecured his hatch and glanced at the lock’s telltales. All were green. Opening the airlock, he was greeted by a trooper-second.
“Welcome aboard,” the trooper said as Ian stepped across the threshold.
Ian didn’t answer. Unlike some traders, he always appreciated the Axia and its ships. He wasn’t wild about being on this large ship, especially since he knew the captain had the right to inspect his manifest and inventory for contraband merchandise the trader might be transporting from one star system to another. Then again, he couldn’t pass the opportunity to unload a few trinkets and baubles onto any unsuspecting crewmen.
“The captain welcomes you to the bridge,” the trooper said when Ian had cleared both locks. He then locked both ship airlocks so that they were independent once more. That way in an emergency, they could always disengage from the Cahill Express without risking the safety of the Doral.
Ian waited while the trooper secured his station. When he was finished, he turned to the trader. “This way,” he said, leading Ian through a bulkhead hatch.
An extended trip through much of the ship eventually led them to the control room of the cruiser Doral. When they entered, the captain of the cruiser swiveled his chair around and stood to greet his guest.
“Garrison Kingston,” the captain said, offering his hand.
“Ian Cahill,” Ian replied as he returned the grasp.
“Again, that sure was some nice shooting back there,” the captain offered. “Usually, we see nothing but an expanding cloud of atoms.”
“That’s usually all I want to see.”
“They’re going aboard, Captain,” a trooper said from the comm.
“Shall we watch?” Captain Kingston asked. He motioned toward the forward view ports. He and Ian crossed the bridge to where they could see the Red-tail ship and the cruiser shuttle that was now alongside it. They could clearly see the suited troopers opening the Red-tail ship and going in.
“I don’t envy them,” Ian remarked. He felt an itch from the scar on his neck. He knew it wasn’t really there, but just the thought of being this close to a living Red-tail caused his skin to crawl. If he never saw another one up close again, it would be too soon.
“Oh they enjoy it,” the captain replied. “They don’t get many chances to ply their trade. We haven’t had a captive Red-tail in almost a year.”
“Happy to oblige,” Ian said while they continued to watch the operation around the Red-tail ship.
Soon they saw the troopers bring the Red-tail out controlled by a hand-held disabling ray. Ian had been wondering how they would blow the Red-tail hatch and capture the Red-tail alive while the atmosphere rushed out. Apparently, they had devised a system.
I only a matter of minutes, the team secured their captive and headed back to the cruiser. A second shuttle headed out with another team toward the now empty Red-tail ship. Ian watched these troopers disembark and go in through the hatch. They soon appeared carrying different objects and equipment. He appreciated their efficiency.
“Of course you get the bounty also,” the captain mentioned while they watched.
“I won’t say no,” Ian answered. “But even without the bounty, it’s nice to bag one of them.”
“I feel the same way,” the captain agreed. “Seen too much of what they do if left to their own devices. My first mission in space was going in after they had attacked unprotected independent planets. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Second team reports the ship is secure, sir,” the trooper at the comm reported. “First team relays the captive is also secure.”
“Thank you,” the captain said over his shoulder.
Ian surveyed the Red-tail vessel now floating free in space. He’d claimed salvage rights to it but really had no way to secure it to his vessel. He supposed he could board the vessel and remove anything of value then destroy the hulk. Then again, the cost of a torpedo might outweigh any profit he might expect to gain from their sale.
“Do you need any help securing the hulk to your vessel?”
“That would be kind of you,” Ian agreed. They both turned back toward the control cabin. “I was hoping to stay onboard for a while if I may?”
“We’d be honored,” the captain said with a smile. “I think the crew is eager to see a new face.”
“Then let’s not keep them waiting,” Ian said, smiling back.
Chapter Three
“Good morning, Ert,” Professor Angle said cheerfully when he entered the lab now completely devoted to the Horicon computer.
“And a good day to you, sir,” Ert replied through an audio adaptation.
“Why so formal?” Angle asked as he sat down at the main console.
“It just seems appropriate considering your achievements and qualifications. At least according to your human social constrictors.”
“If you want social constrictors, I suggest you go deal with the Sociology Department. At least here we enjoy a little more relaxed interaction.”
“I did go to the Sociology Department. I don’t think they want me to come back.”
“What did you do this time?” Angle asked. “Unscramble the encryption codes for the whole galactic fleet?”
“I only pointed out the many inconsistencies in their favorite theories.” Ert’s artificial voice carried just a hint of amusement.
“I can agree with that,” the professor said with a smile. “That’s why I love computers so much. They are cut and dried and run like machines should.”
“If you say so,” Ert replied diplomatically. “Personally, I find more inconsistencies in your field of computers than with the sociologists.”
“Shall we get to work then?” Angle said, ignoring Ert’s favorite joke. Cracking his fingers, Professor Angle reached for his keyboard. Audibly si
ghing, Ert resigned himself to the scheduled hours of tests and analysis. He assigned a subroutine to take care of the professor and withdrew into himself to consider the questions that caused him so much vexation.
∞∞∞
Ian Cahill smiled while he viewed the unfolding panorama of space. It had been a good visit aboard the cruiser, and a profitable one to boot. Although the crew was small, they were eager to spend their credits for some of the trinkets he had for sale. True, he’d been partial to the troopers on his prices so he made a little less than he might have otherwise, but he still turned a respectable profit.
The big scoop had come from Captain Kingston himself when the two were having a chat in the ship’s mess. To help keep things open between them, Ian had accepted without qualm an offer of coffee, foregoing his usual tea.
“What do you plan to do with that Red-tail ship?” Captain Kingston asked, referring to the Red-tail derelict. While they spoke, troopers were securing it to the side of the Cahill Express.
“Haven’t decided yet,” Ian admitted truthfully. “Probably find some school or museum that would want it for display. Lacking that, I can always sell it for scrap.”
“No need to throw it away,” the captain replied. “But I might have an idea or two for you before it comes to that.”
“Oh?” Ian asked non-committed.
“Yes, a former captain of mine, retired now, is looking for one to display in his yard as a decoration.”
“Rather a large and unusual form of yard art, wouldn’t you say?”
“It is that,” the captain agreed. “But he has a large property and it’s his choice. Personally, I think he’s nuts. But that’s just between you and me.”
“Maybe he just wants to relive his glory days or something,” Ian said. “I know one old codger that had his place landscaped to look like a barren moon. Drove him crazy when his wife planted flowers along the border of a crater.”
“That must have been a sight. Little flowers poking up along the edge of a crater,” Kingston added with a chuckle.
“So tell me more about this captain of yours,” Ian said, trying to nudge along the conversation.
“Not really much to tell. He just wants part of a Red-tail ship to stick in one of the front corners of his place. He thinks it will make an interesting conversation piece.”
“That it would,” Ian agreed. “Where is he, and how might I get hold of him?”
“It’s not too far,” the captain answered, pushing away from the table. “Stay here and I’ll get the coordinates for you.”
While the captain was gone, Ian waited patiently. This could turn out to be a good day after all.
At first, he had been more than frustrated when the Red-tail appeared. Not only were Red-tails bad news in their own right but this one had interrupted his usual time for taking inventory and posting his inventory on the trader’s net. Though flexible, Ian did like his routine. The incident had also put him off his intended schedule.
Now things were looking better indeed. The Unseen One must be smiling on me today, Ian thought. Not only did he have a ship of captive customers, but now he had the possibility of unloading the derelict Red-tail ship at more than scrap value. Add the Axia bonus for bagging an invader, and Ian’s credit account would grow significantly fatter today.
Soon Captain Kingston returned with a slip of paper in his hand. “Here are his coordinates and other information.” Kingston handed the slip across the table to Ian. He took it and committed it to memory.
“Not too far out of the way, I see,” he said. “I think I’ll swing by and pay him a visit.”
“I anticipated that,” Kingston said with a wink, “and shot him a message to expect you.”
“That was kind of you.” He slid the slip of paper into his pocket and took a sip of his coffee. For ship coffee, this was better than most. He had no doubt that this was real coffee instead of synthesized.
“Figured you wouldn’t mind,” Kingston said, taking a sip from his own cup. “Figured any good trader wouldn’t pass up a possible buyer.”
“Sounds like you have us traders figured out,” Ian observed wryly.
“I thought I might try my hand at trading after I retire from the service,” Kingston said. “I just can’t see myself being a ground-pounder after all these years on a flight deck.”
“It does grow on you, doesn’t it?” Ian agreed. “Here’s to space!” He raised his coffee cup in salute. The captain did likewise.
“The most seductive and indifferent mistress a man could know,” Kingston added as their cups clinked together.
∞∞∞
Now the Cahill Express hurled through space, headed toward the planet Urun. Fastened with cables to the side of the Cahill Express were the remains of the Red-tail ship. Although making an awkward shape, the drive/repulsion field of the Express formed itself around both ships as if they were one. The only difficulty it might cause is if upon landing Ian had to fit the ship through a hanger or dock door.
Yes, this was a good trip indeed. He was looking forward to meeting this retired captain and unloading the Red-tail wreck. Ian also wanted to see what this captain might have that he would be willing to let go of for the right price. This was the way Ian had found some of his best trades—through seeming happenstance. He had learned to follow hunches and open opportunities like this whenever they presented themselves. Not only did it make for an interesting life, it made for a profitable one as well.
∞∞∞
Disparate bits of data streamed in from far-flung sources and collated for possible patterns. The Horicon computer processed all this with only a tiny portion of his memory, projecting different scenarios based upon even the most tentative pattern revealed in the collected information.
Without warning, a most unwelcome bit of data appeared from a tap the alien computer had set up in the native information system on a distant planet. Whole sections of his vast processor was immediately delegated to work out various courses of action and how to implement them. While also reviewing the different players and factors involved, the alien computer actually had time to worry. Moreover, with that worry arose a pang of guilt.
Over the vast expanse of the alien’s lifetime, civilizations had risen and fallen. In his spare time, he had cataloged and counted them. Most of their misery and triumph meant little to him except for one thing - he felt responsible. In some convoluted way that mere humans would not understand, he concluded that he was responsible for the terrible red scourge afflicting humanity. No matter how he projected it, the damage would continue. Therefore, he was trying to change the outcome.
So here he faced the difficult circumstances that threatened his efforts. But he refused to be daunted. With effort and subtlety, he would have to work harder to change the course he had set into motion.
In spite of his prodigious abilities, he could come up with no way to directly intervene. That above all else must be avoided. The alien computer had already considered such courses of action and knew without doubt that it would only magnify the damage of his original action. Therefore, he was left with only indirect and discreet means to act. Applying yet more energy to the different scenarios, he started planning his next move.
Drawing on his long experience with the Horicon, Ert devised a subtle plan to acquire the answers he longed for. He briefly considered the moratorium the professor had suggested on his contacts with the world around him. Inwardly, Ert realized that technically the injunction only applied to the human world. That left lots of latitude in which to operate.
Delving through his vast memory, Ert tried to recall all he knew of what the Horicon had learned about their galaxy. Being planet-bound had only slowed the curious Horicon in their quest. Many were the odd and yet wonderful fellow residents of the vastness of space, which was the most promising course open to finding his answer.
Careful not to disturb the alarm system the Mica computer experts had devised, Ert reached out. He again marveled at th
eir simplistic approaches to computer security. Someday he’d come back and play with it for its entertainment value.
Stretching himself along pathways no one (human that is) had ever considered, Ert tied himself into one of the transmitter arrays on the far side of the planet. He waited until there was a break in the usual transmissions going out to other nearby planets.
A moment was all he needed. In those few nanoseconds, Ert sent a squirt transmission out toward the rim of the galaxy. The fact that it was of a different pattern and wavelength helped conceal his borrowing of the array.
Ert had considerable doubts his signal would be answered. But he could only try. The ancient computer drew scant comfort from the hope that the answers would help his new friends. It had been ages since he’d known of the wanderers of old, an ancient culture predating even the Horicon by millions of years. Resigning himself to the tedium of working the tests the professor had outlined, Ert withdrew his connection and returned his focus to the computer lab.
Just as he was settling down to play with the professor, a search program he’d set up signaled that it had results. Scanning through the data, Ert found himself pausing at the results. He knew further investigation would be required but Ert could not do it directly. What he needed was a proxy.
Searching the flight manifests, Ert discarded the idea of using an Axia ship. What would work best would be an independent vessel to act as his probe. Scanning the shipping logs Ert narrowed it down to several. Now all he could do was establish the search program using the new parameters and wait to see which would make itself most available.
Chapter Four
“Urun Control, this is the Cahill Express requesting non-standard approach,” Ian said into the mic as the Express slowed to standard approach speed. He punched a button that transmitted his request to Urun Control. He knew they would process it quickly enough so he could go directly to visit this retired captain.
Space Trader (Galactic Axia Adventure) Page 3