The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “See what you can find,” Captain Hamilton ordered. “Steve, you work out what we would need and then give me the list. Unless there are any serious objections, I intend to take the contract.”

  “We might want to add in a liability clause,” Steve warned. “What happens if one of those idiots accidentally opens an airlock?”

  “I’ll see to it,” Captain Hamilton said. “Anything else?”

  No one said anything. Sameena wondered, absently, why this contract was up for debate while Ethne had signed the previous contract without consulting with anyone else, even her husband. But then, a live cargo was always a difficult problem. Logan simply didn't have enough stasis pods to transport all five families to Madagascar.

  “Sameena, go with Steve to work out the requirements for life support,” Captain Hamilton ordered. “Ethne and I will draw up the contract for their approval.”

  Sameena normally liked working with Steve, but he seemed to be in a dark mood as they went down to the engineering compartment to work through their sums. She knew how the life support systems worked, at least in theory; adding twenty-seven newcomers to the crew risked overloading it. They would need to produce more oxygen ...

  “Count them all as adults,” Steve ordered, when she asked how old the children were. “You don't want to cut corners with the life support.”

  Sameena nodded, wincing inwardly at his tone. The life support requirements for children were considerably smaller than adults, but it was difficult to be sure precisely how much each child required. Adults, on the other hand, were fairly constant. He was right, she knew; counting them all as adults would be safer than trying to work out precisely how much they needed.

  “Show me your results,” he growled, once he’d worked it out himself. “And you check mine.”

  They had the same answer, Sameena noted with some relief. A mistake with the life support could be absolutely disastrous. All of her exercises over the last month had been torn apart and the mistakes highlighted, just to make sure that she knew exactly what she was doing.

  “Excellent,” Steve said. He sounded as though he was annoyed that they hadn't been able to prove that they couldn't take the families onboard. “And here is what we will need to provide for them.”

  The next four hours passed quickly, once they purchased the additional life support gear from Orbit One. Steve, Paddy, James and Brad did most of the installing, but they took time to explain to Sameena and the kids just what they were doing – and why. Next time, Steve promised, she could actually do a section herself, although he would be checking her work afterwards. Sameena felt vaguely insulted until she realised that everyone’s work was being checked.

  She caught a nap in her cabin, then awoke in time to assist Brad in preparing the hold for their guests. There was enough space for twenty-seven passengers, she realised, but it was going to be cramped – and there would be absolutely no privacy. The sole remaining cabin had been designated the toilet, with the kids charged with showing the newcomers how to use it. Sameena was just grateful that she hadn't been given that job.

  “We’re taking on additional rations too,” Brad told her, once they had finished laying out the bedding. “It was rather worrying how quickly the Imperial Navy signed a case of standard ration bars over to us.”

  Sameena made a face. Paddy had told her that standard ration bars were nutritious, with everything a growing spacer needed, but they were disgusting. She had wondered why the producers didn't try to improve the flavour; Paddy had pointed out that they didn't want to encourage people to eat the bars and nothing else. It didn't make sense to her.

  “We can probably hang a curtain to separate the sexes if they wish it,” she said. She had no idea of the sexual mores on the planet below. “Or should we do that anyway?”

  “See what they have to say,” Brad said. “It would probably be better to let them choose.”

  Their wristcoms buzzed. “Come to the airlock,” Ethne ordered. “They’re ready to come onboard.”

  Sameena hadn't been sure what she’d been expecting to see. The children looked terrible, as if they’d spent their lives permanently on the run. Their eyes were haunted, their faces were pale and their clothes were tattered, despite the vast sum of money their parents had handed over to Ethne for transport out of the system. The adults looked more confident, particularly the younger men, but there was a wariness about them that bothered Sameena. How much of their confidence was an act?

  “They got shipsuits on the station, thankfully,” Brad muttered to her, as they escorted the refugees into the hold. “But we will still have to tell them about safety.”

  Sameena nodded, remembering the days when she hadn't been allowed to leave her cabin without an escort. There were just too many ways one of the children could get themselves killed, entirely by accident. Ethne stepped forward as soon as the last refugee was in the hold and started to warn them of the dangers. None of them showed much reaction.

  “It's a seven-day trip to Madagascar,” Ethne concluded. “It would be nice if you could stay in the hold until we reach our destination. Do not go beyond the airlock at the head of the corridor without an escort.”

  Brad pulled at Sameena’s arm, leading her out of the hold. “Pity they can't be permanently sedated,” he muttered. “You know the vast colonist-carriers? They’re nothing, but thousands of stasis pods for the colonists. They don’t experience any time passing until they reach their new homeworld. So much better than just waiting in the hold, staring at the bulkheads.”

  Sameena said nothing as they walked back up to the bridge. Steve was already there, monitoring the life support equipment. He didn't look happy; he was checking and rechecking the readings, as if he expected the system to break down at any moment. There were horror stories, Sameena had read, where starship crews had had to shoot their passengers into space, just to survive long enough for help to arrive. They never ended well.

  “There’s hardly any System Command here,” Brad muttered, as he took his seat. “We could just leave orbit without waiting to ask for permission.”

  “You’d better ask for permission to undock first,” Captain Hamilton said, dryly. “Or they will make a terrible fuss.”

  Sameena smiled as Steve chuckled, finally turning away from the monitoring systems. Logan couldn't hope to outrun one of the gunboats in the system, even if she were given an hour’s lead. If the Imperial Navy chose to come after them, escape would be impossible.

  “They’ve cleared us to depart,” Brad said, after a moment. “And they’re wishing our passengers a happy voyage.”

  “Not a chance,” Steve said. “They’ll be thoroughly sick of each other by the time we reach Madagascar.”

  Logan quivered to life as she undocked from Orbit One and then headed out towards the Phase Limit. Sameena studied the displays long enough to confirm her first impression of the system, then picked up her terminal and went back to work. There were five more assignments to complete before she returned to Madagascar or ... she didn't know what the consequences would be, but it would probably delay her progress. Besides, Ethne hadn't been joking when she said that the kids weren't allowed to explore unless they had completed all of their assignments. Sameena would probably face the same restriction.

  The hatch opened, revealing Paddy. “Jayne’s just finished inspecting some of the kids,” he said, as he sat down at one of the consoles. There was a hint of cold anger in his voice. “Someone slapped them around, quite a bit. That refugee camp was a very nasty place and the Imperials did bugger all to make it better. I’m surprised they kept their cash. It should have been stolen or used for bribes by now.”

  Sameena gritted her teeth. She’d done some research during a break and discovered that interstellar refugees rarely fared well. If they were lucky, they were shipped to a planet that allowed them to integrate into its population; if they were unlucky, they remained in refugee camps or were simply dumped on colonies like Madagascar, where they were ruthle
ssly exploited by the locals. How many of the women in brothels, she thought grimly, had been refugees? The Empire could be a very unfriendly place.

  And how would Jannah react, she asked herself, if a few thousand refugees from a different culture were dumped on us?

  Her research suggested that the answer to that was poorly. Some worlds were quite welcoming, or simply in desperate need of new colonists, but others resented unwelcome immigrants, particularly the ones who refused to assimilate into the local culture. Jannah, she was sure, would be very unwelcoming. And she had a feeling that few outsiders, even the ones from Islamic worlds, would be willing to assimilate completely.

  Ethne and Jayne would refuse to wear the veil, but there’s just two of them, she thought, bitterly. How would a few thousand outsiders react to Jannah?

  “Poor bastards,” Brad said. “But they’re safe now.”

  “Once they get to Madagascar they’ll be safe,” Steve said. He didn't sound as though he believed himself. “Right now, I think we should keep a very close eye on the life support.”

  Sameena nodded and returned her gaze to her terminal. The assignment was driving her insane, but she didn’t want to ask for help. Starship navigation was something she would definitely have to master if she wanted to pass the exams, let alone command her own ship. And navigating through Phase Space was incredibly tricky ... every one of her first set of calculations had gone wrong because she hadn't been able to account for all of the gravity wells that warped and twisted Phase Space. Or made it harder for the drive to work properly.

  There’s a gravity well there, she thought to herself, rubbing her temple. If we go too close, we’ll wind up three light years from our intended destination. But if we give it a wide berth, we’ll add several more days to our transit time.

  And to think the assignment wanted the quickest route between two points, with as few stopping places as possible ...

  She put it aside, deciding that she might be forced to ask Brad or Ethne for help. Brad might give her the answer; Ethne would show her how to avoid making the same mistake time and time again. Silently promising that she would ask them tomorrow, she searched through the other files on the database and brought up a textbook on interstellar biological quarantine procedures. She’d been warned that she would be expected to have a passing understanding of what could and could not be shipped in merchant hulls.

  The hatch opened again. Sameena looked up, expecting to see Ethne or Jayne ... and gasped as one of the refugees stepped onto the bridge. The young man didn't look beaten anymore; he looked ... dangerous. And he was carrying a small pistol in his hand.

  “I’d ask you all to remain still,” he said, as the other young men filed onto the bridge. He spoke Imperial Standard with an oddly lisping accent. “If you do as we say, none of you will be harmed.”

  Captain Hamilton stared at him, his face twitching with rage. “What is this?”

  “Your ship is under our control,” the hijacker said. “Please, put your hands in the air.”

  Sameena hesitated, cursing her oversight. If she’d carried her pistol ... but she'd known that she couldn't take it onboard Orbit One and so she’d left it in her cabin. It might as well be a thousand light years away for all the good it would do her.

  And they have the drop on us anyway, she thought, remembering a couple of movies she’d watched with the kids. There was no way she could have drawn her pistol without being shot. If she’d had it, they would have taken it. What could we do?

  “Do as he says,” Captain Hamilton ordered. His voice was very controlled, but she was sure that he was furious. He was the master of his ship and his command was being violated. “Now.”

  Sameena lifted her hands. Brad and Steve did the same, their faces flushed with angry humiliation. Paddy complied a moment later, his face tight and expressionless.

  “My wife,” the Captain said, suddenly. Sameena heard the alarm in his voice and winced, inwardly. What had happened to Ethne? And Jayne? And the kids? “What have you done with her?”

  “She’s safe, just a little tied up,” the hijacker said. He gave Hamilton a savage smile. “Now, I’d like the command codes to your ship. Now.”

  “The Imperial Navy already knows that you’re here,” Hamilton said, calmly. “You cannot hope to get across the Phase Limit in time to escape.”

  “You’re lying,” the hijacker said, simply.

  Sameena suspected that he was right. They hadn't known that the refugees had bad intentions until they'd come crashing onto the bridge. There had been no time to contact the Imperial Navy and scream for help. If the hijackers kept their nerve, they could just keep going to the Phase Limit and vanish the moment they crossed it. There would be no help from outside.

  The hijacker didn’t even sound angry. “And you don’t seem to be taking us seriously. How ... terrible.”

  He reached forward and caught Sameena’s arm, pulling her out of her seat and thrusting her towards two of his men. She winced, expecting to be molested or raped in front of her adopted family, but instead they pushed her towards the airlock. The hatch was open and she was inside before she quite realised what was going on. And then the hatch closed. Absolute silence descended as she beat her hands against the inner hatch ...

  ... And then she heard air starting to hiss out of the compartment as the outer hatch began to open, revealing the inky darkness of space.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Critics claimed that gold (and thus money) was the root of all evil. Ironically, there was a certain amount of truth to this, at least where the local economy was concerned. A sudden influx of gold and silver – the discovery of a new mine, for example – could badly undermine the economy by causing a shift in the balance between supply and demand. If the level of gold rose, prices would rise along with it. The Spanish Empire’s access to the vast levels of gold and silver from the New World proved as much curse as blessing.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  Sameena felt one long moment of absolute panic as she felt the outrush of air pulling her out of the ship, then she forced the panic aside, remembering what she’d been taught from the very first day she set foot on Logan. She used one hand to grab hold of the handle, holding herself in the ship, while she used the other to pull her facemask over her face. There was only a limited supply of oxygen in the shipsuit – it was meant to keep the wearer alive long enough to find a proper spacesuit – but it would have to suffice.

  The last traces of the atmosphere rushed out of the airlock, then the pull simply faded away to nothingness. Sameena pulled herself forward, feeling cold seeping through the shipsuit, and out onto the freighter’s hull. Thankfully, she was still inside the ship’s drive field; there was no danger of being left behind unless she threw herself away from the hull. She reached for the first handhold and made her way down towards the lower airlock. The cold seemed to be growing stronger, wearing away at her; it was awfully tempting to just let go and drift away into nothingness. But somehow she kept going until she reached the airlock and touched the emergency lever.

  Galactic Law insisted that all airlocks had to remain unlocked, allowing someone on the outside to get into the ship quickly if there was an emergency. Steve had commented that the law had been written by engineers rather than bureaucrats, crediting the engineers with saving countless lives since most equipment had been standardised. Normally, the airlocks were also designed to trap any unwanted intruders – just in case someone attempted to board the ship and take control – but Sameena had a set of access codes for Logan. She plunged into the airlock and sighed in relief as she heard fresh air being pumped into the compartment.

  She opened the second hatch and looked around, listening for any signs of trouble. There had been twenty-seven refugees, but half of them had been kids. Assuming all of the adults were hijackers, there were thirteen hijackers on the ship. Gritting her teeth – her skin felt odd, d
espite the protection provided by the shipsuit – she hurried down towards the cabins. She needed to arm herself before she did anything else.

  Paddy probably has a stockpile of weapons elsewhere, she thought, as she opened the hatch that led into the cabins. But I don't know where.

  Her cabin was, as always, unlocked. She slipped inside, noted to her relief that no one had attempted to search her possessions, then found the pistol where she’d buried it under her underwear. Once she slipped a clip into the weapon, she felt much better, even though she was vastly outnumbered. Keeping that thought in mind, she pocketed the remaining clips and slipped down to the cabin Richard and Regina shared. Bracing herself, she peeked inside. The kids were lying on their bunks, their hands and feet taped together. And they’d been gagged, just to keep them quiet.

  No guard, she thought, relieved. They must not have considered them worth the effort.

  Sameena tapped her lips, then found Regina’s multitool and used it to cut their bonds. “I was thrown off the bridge,” she muttered, as soon as they were free. “Do you have weapons?”

  “No ammo,” Regina said. “Uncle Paddy said he’d tan our hides if we touched the ammunition without permission.”

  She looked up at Sameena. “What happened to your face?”

  Sameena touched her cheek ... and felt a chilling numbness that spoke of the icy cold of space. It had left its mark on her, she realised. Part of her mind insisted that she would never be truly warm again, while the remainder dismissed that as a silly thought.

  “Take these,” she said, hoping that her ammunition was compatible with whatever weapons Paddy had given the kids. “He’ll understand, I think.”

  Richard gave her a weak smile. “We’ll blame you if he doesn't,” he said. His face darkened. “What do we do now?”

  “Follow me down to the hold,” Sameena said. If they could find and free Ethne, she’d know what to do. “And if you see any of the bastards, shoot them.”