by Sam Lippert
“Pollution is very tough to regulate on strictly a community level. The polluter can always just move to where the regulations aren't as tough. In the end the air, land and water are all connected, so the pollution ends up everywhere.” Nathan walked up to a kiosk by the side of the road, just outside of the gate.
“What's that?” Remi asked.
“It's a toll kiosk. The roads on Rand are all private, toll roads.” Daniels activated the kiosk. Immediately a contract appeared on screen. He quickly tapped through the ten pages, acknowledged his agreement, then attached a vial of gold dust to the appropriate receptacle on the kiosk.
“There is no way you read that!” Remi challenged.
“You are right, Princess, but the kiosk requires the user to at least scroll through the contract before accepting.” Nathan removed the vial of gold dust once the amount of the toll had been extracted.
“But, what if the contract had some nasty clause in it?”
“Did you notice that this is the only road currently servicing the spaceport? We don't have any other option. Sometimes, even on Rand, you just have to accept a contract.” The pair walked three hundred meters, where they encountered another kiosk. Daniels went through the ritual again.
“What the hell?” the Princess asked. “Surely our toll should have been covered at least until we came to a crossroads!”
“New owner. Every time we cross a property line, ownership of the road changes and we have to accept a new contract and pay a new toll. In some areas there are sharp jogs in the roads because otherwise the road would need to run over the property of someone who did not want a road on their land.”
“Not very efficient for the traveler.”
“True. It highlights another way where lack of a strong central government, one that can use Eminent Domain for public works projects such as roads, produces inefficiency. For something like a road to be efficient, it must be owned and administered by some central authority. Many of the roads on Rand have been bought up by the Conglomerates, leading to more convenience when it comes to tolls, but the tolls are higher as well. The Randians who own very profitable and highly traveled segments of road are often the last to sell, and only once they have no other choice.” Nathan paused and fed another kiosk.
“But Nathan, couldn't the efficiency be improved simply by automating and making toll collecting electronic?”
“That would require electronic currency, which is a form of fiat, and fiat currency is banned by the Randian constitution. The people of Rand love their gold, and aren't about to give it up to make paying for things a little more convenient. It could be done by credit...” The pair had turned a corner and found their way forward blocked by a crowd of people filling the street, many of whom were carrying signs that said things like 'on strike.'
“I don't believe it!” Nathan explained.
“It's just a strike, Nathan,” Remi responded. “They happen all the time.”
“On other worlds, yes, but not on Rand!” Nathan went on to explain. “On Rand employment is covered by contract, just like everything else. If a contract is allowed to expire, the worker no longer has a job and therefore cannot strike. If a worker strikes while under contract, it is a violation of the contract, and contract violations are taken very seriously here!”
“You have said that a number of times! What, exactly, do you mean by seriously?” The people in the streets were packed very densely, there was no room for the pair to move forward.
Nathan sighed. “Remember how I said property rights were sacrosanct? That leads to theft being considered a major crime, and it is punished as it was in the Hammurabi Code.”
“Understood, but how does...”
“Breach of Contract is considered theft.” This statement took Remini a moment to fully process, when she did, she immediately scanned the crowd with her eyes. Many of the protestors were missing one hand, and more than a few of them were without a second.
An impromptu stage had been erected in the center of the crowd with a large holographic display assembled on top of it. The display came to life, showing a woman who thrust a pair of hand-less arms into the air. Everyone in the street who could, returned the gesture.
Nathan did a double-take. He could not believe his eyes, even when the cameras zoomed in and the woman's face filled the display.
Five years ago, Nathan had carried a passenger from the Consortium to Rand. It made him veloubious to see her image on the stage preparing to address the crowd.
CHAPTER XIV
Admiral Peter Sokolov brooded, but if you asked anyone who had ever served under him, this was his natural state and had nothing to do with the fact that he had only recently gotten word of the destruction of Kurufet Rising, General Marag's final act of incompetence. Marag's demise did not trouble Sokolov. The man had been a buffoon, merely capable of following orders, and not particularly good at that. What Sokolov lamented was the loss of Kurufet Rising, because the idiot general had transferred every known sympathizer in the Kalifet military to the ship before racing out after the Nola! Talk about having all of your eggs in one basket! Sokolov no longer had anyone useful within the Kalifet Empire, Princess Remini was still en route to her wedding, and there was no longer a tracking device on Nola.
The Admiral had a backup plan, of course. You did not rise to the rank of Admiral in the Rathshelliam Navy without always having a backup plan. The moment he had learned of the destruction of Kurufet Rising, he had ordered his backup plan released from the brig. The man now stood, hands cuffed behind his back, before the brooding Admiral.
“Jeremy James,” the Admiral began.
“There should be a 'Captain' in there somewhere.” James was weak from his months of captivity. Even he had to admit that weak was better than dead, which was what he should have been. He had been told on numerous occasions that his taste for married women was going to get him into trouble. For the most part he had managed to stay one step ahead of the jealous husbands, at least until Somata IX.
“You are not in the military, and you are not currently in command of any sort of vessel, as the Equinox was impounded on Somata IX and sold at auction.” Sokolov glared at the trader. “Therefore it is just Jeremy James. I could also point out that just as I saved your miserable life on Somata IX, I could end it here and now.” Sokolov waved his hand and the guard to the right of James put a knife to the man's throat. “Do we have an understanding?” James carefully nodded his assent. Sokolov gestured again and the knife was sheathed.
“Speaking of that,” James started, wishing he could reach up and rub his throat where the knife had been moments before. “Not that I'm not grateful and all, but why exactly did you save me, only to keep me in your brig for the last six months?”
“You, Mister James are my 'ace in the hole,' as it were. When I learned that the Empress of Kalifet had taken an interest in the second best independent trader in known space, I knew I needed to have the best working for me. My operatives tracked you to Somata IX, where it was a very easy matter to inform the governor that you had taken up with his wife. It did, however, take a substantial sum of money to convince him not to actually execute you, but simply pretend to.”
“You think that saving me from an execution that you essentially arranged somehow makes me indebted to you?” Jeremy mustered what he hoped was a look of defiance, but after six months in detention, he wasn't sure it looked that way at all.
Sokolov stood up and approached the former captain, carrying with him a long sharp needle that had been on his desk. Jeremy attempted a struggle, but quickly found himself even further restrained by the ever present guards. Using the needle, that was clearly larger than necessary, likely for dramatic effect, Sokolov gave James' thigh the tiniest prick.
“I think you are indebted to me because you have just been infected with a mutant strain of hyperion ringworm. Hyperion ringworm is a decidedly nasty little fungus, slowly growing along the inside of your veins until it reaches your heart, w
here it suppresses all electrical signals, leading to immediate cardiac arrest. Based on where you were just injected, you have approximately six months to live.” Sokolov paused and grinned, for maximum effect. “That is unless you are dosed with the anti-fungal agent specifically tailored to this particular mutant form. An agent that only I possess.”
“In that case,” James did his best to smile. “I am at your service. What can I do for you?”
“I need you to track Nathan Daniels. Once you find him, you will kill him and anyone traveling with him. Only then will you be dosed with the antidote.”
* * *
“Private spacecraft Equinox calling Nexus,” Captain Jeremy James was once again in the control room of his beloved ship. Sokolov had been telling the truth when he said the Equinox had been sold off, he just had neglected to mention that he had been the purchaser.
Equinox was a Piper 2245, which Jeremy had purchased new just a year ago. She had nearly twice the cargo capacity of the Nola, meaning James did not have to be nearly as particular about his cargo as Daniels. Equinox also sported two passenger suites. She did not have the 'legs' that Nola did, but she was still quite fast for her size. Given the speed difference, Captain James was going to have his work cut out for him.
According to Sokolov, Nexus was Nathan's last known location. It should not take much snooping around to find out what currency he had left with, since there was rarely a decent cargo available anywhere in the Consortium, and that knowledge should be all Jeremy needed to surmise the trader's destination. James knew he would not be able to catch up with Daniels on the first jump, but he hoped it would not take more than three or four, as he would not be taking time to sell or purchase cargo.
“Jeremy James?” the voice that came over the n-wave was familiar, but seemed slightly out of place. When the image resolved on the view-screen he realized why.
“Tranda? When did you start working Nexus approach?” Tranda being in Nexus would be both a blessing and a curse. James had always been a little put off by the Saffronite, but no one in the Consortium was closer to Nathan Daniels. This would require walking a fine line, but, then again he knew this was not going to be a walk in the park from the start.
“Apparently about the same time you came back from the dead! I had heard you were on the wrong end of a hangman's noose on Somata IX. You know the drill, zombie boy, I need proof of funds before I can clear you to dock.”
James had to play this just right. He obviously needed to fulfill his mission in order to get the antidote, but he also owed it to Daniels to try to let him know what was going on. Although the two traders had never been extremely close, they had a past, meaning they had certain obligations to each other, such as one informing the other when his life was in danger. If anyone in the Consortium had the ability to get word to Nathan, it was Tranda. The tough part was going to be cluing the Saffronite in on the situation. That damn Sokolov was thorough!
Before letting him leave in the Equinox the Admiral had outfitted James with a cranial implant that was directly connected to his optic and auditory nerves. The implant recorded everything James saw or heard. Once a day he was required to jack into an n-wave transmitter and download the recording to Sokolov. Any detectible attempt to sabotage the mission, or to alert anyone, would mean no antidote.
“Z9985234452,” the account number had been provided by Sokolov. Once docked James was supposed to draw a large amount of cash from the account, in whatever currencies he deemed appropriate to finance the manhunt. “Oh, and Tranda, let's have dinner tonight. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
* * *
Tranda cut the connection with James. The two had never hit it off, and it had not been for lack of trying on Tranda's part, but for some reason Jeremy had never warmed up to the Saffronite. This made the dinner request very peculiar. Winette had asked that anything out of the ordinary be reported to her, and to Tranda a dinner invitation from Jeremy James certainly qualified! The Saffronite activated a ComCard and opened a line to the Kalifet operative.
“Tranda! What a pleasant surprise hearing from you in the middle of the day, instead of the usual 0300 'booty call' attempt!” Winette grinned. Like nearly everyone who knew Tranda, she found the Saffronite insanely attractive, but the two had never actually gotten beyond 'first base.'
“Winnette, sweetie, you know you only get those calls because you are my best girlfriend, and I want to prevent you from having a late night 'hook-up' that we both know you would regret later!” Tranda smiled back. “Anyway, love, you wanted me to let you know if any unusual n-wave traffic came though, and boy do I have a doosie for you! I just finished a back-and-forth with a dead man, and girl there were no mediums involved!”
“I am going to need more detail than that, Tranda.”
“One Captain Jeremy James, last known to have been hanged on Somata IX, just requested docking instructions here at Nexus! Add to that the fact that the gorgeous hunk of a man who usually can't stand to be in the same room with me, invited me to dinner, and I would say we have one hell of an 'unusual' situation!”
“What account did he use as proof of funds?”
“Z9985234452” Winnette let out a whistle upon hearing the account number.
“Tranda, sweetie that is the same account we froze temporarily in order to force Marag into that Janga tournament with you! As usual, your instincts appear to be spot on. Unfortunately, without a Kalifet ship full of traitors in the Consortium, the Empress doesn't have the leverage to have a hold put on the account again. The best bet is for you to have dinner with Captain James and see what you can find out, without giving anything away.”
“You know me, love,” there was an evil look in Tranda's eyes. “I never pass up a free meal, unless a good Janga game comes my way! And with Jeremy James no less! It's going to be fun watching him squirm!”
“If we're lucky James might even be able to lead us to whomever was pulling Marag's strings.”
* * *
Uncomfortable was probably the nicest term that could be applied to the meeting between Jeremy and Tranda. Jeremy had initially wanted to veto Tranda's selection of The Porter House, uncomfortable with the idea of treating the Saffronite to such an expensive meal, but warmed up to it once he remembered he would be using Sokolov's money, not his own. The Admiral wanted information? Well, it certainly wasn't going to come cheap!
After some initial pleasantries where James pretended not to despise Tranda and the Saffronite pretended not to know, he got to the meat of what Sokolov wanted.
“Speaking of Nathan,” James took advantage of an opening conveniently provided by the Saffronite. “Any idea where I can catch up with him? I still owe him some money from the last time we played Janga together, and I am currently in the position to make good on the debt.”
There is a little known, but easily exploitable 'bug' in the Consortium ComCard system. While communication typically is processed through a central server, where it is logged and can be retrieved by someone having either the right connections or a large amount of cash, someone with the general skills necessary to be a successful lone interstellar trader can hack the device's near field communication system to be able to send messages directly to another ComCard within a two meter distance.
It was precisely this hack, combined with a cultivated ability to touch type one thing while saying another, that allowed James to send the following message to Tranda completely undetected:
IMPORTANT: DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE THIS MESSAGE IN ANY WAY. YOU MUST GET WORD TO NATHAN. I HAVE BEEN INJECTED WITH A MUTANT STRAIN OF HYPERION RINGWORM AND FORCED TO TRACK HIM AND KILL HIM BY A RATHSHELLIAM ADMIRAL NAMED SOKOLOV. MY OPTIC AND AUDITORY NERVES ARE MONITORED.
Knowing that Tranda would not find the message until much later, James continued to put on a show for his current master, gently probing the Saffronite as to Daniels' destination and cargo (or lack thereof), but to no avail.
No matter, James was confident it would not take long in a p
lace like Nexus to discover if Daniels had indeed purchased a cargo, or if he had merely purchased currency, and the nature of either. With that information and what he knew about the Nola (modifications and all) he would easily be able to deduce the man's destination. Although he had no intention of being too quick about it.
* * *
Tranda was nearly as confused after dinner as he was before. It was obvious that James had been fishing for information that would give him Nathan's destination, and the Saffronite had been very careful not to give him anything that would help him, although he knew, just as Jeremy had, the information would be easy to come by on Nexus.
He pulled out his ComCard to call Winnette, and found the message from James as soon as he activated the device. After a brief pause to read it, he continued the call.
“Winette, Hun, you are not going to believe this...”
* * *
It took less than twenty-four hours for James to learn that Daniels had left Nexus with nothing but a hold full of gold. Gold was easily brokered on most human planets, but that was not Nathan's style. If Daniels loaded up on gold, it was a better than even bet he was headed to Rand. There were also rumors of Nathan having added two crew members. Jeremy found this to be most unusual, although it fit with Sokolov's requirement that he kill Nathan and anyone traveling with him. Was it Nathan the Admiral really wanted dead, or was it his new companions?
Things were getting 'curiouser and curiouser' to quote one of Jeremy's favorite childhood stories. He undocked from Nexus and set a course for the nearest null point that gave him the best travel time to Rand. He was definitely down the rabbit hole now.
* * *
The ability of n-wave to carry a message nearly instantaneously over thousands of light-years was not the only way it differed from traditional electromagnetic radio. EM radio signals were broadcast, in the truest sense of the word, radiating in all directions from their source. Granted, it is possible to provide those signals with a small amount of directionality, it is still pretty much the case that you are just throwing your signal out there, and hoping the intended recipient's space overlapped with the path of the signal at the appropriate time.