“Counterfeit your inventory numbers,” Bruno said, “or scrounge from the electroids assembled. Jin had help from some of the workers, I recall. It is your problem to figure out, not mine.”
Lenir opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it and gave a nod. Too quickly.
“I know what you are thinking, foreman Lenir,” Bruno said. “You will call the peacekeepers as soon as I leave, to tell them of my visit. I can assure you that would be unwise. If I am arrested my account will be discovered, and my transactions examined. And they will see a transaction to your account.”
“I’ve done nothing illegal for you.”
“You think they will believe that? You received a sizeable deposit from the Lord of the Station, for nothing in exchange?” He looked to Loddac. “This one’s a bigger fool than Jin.”
They both laughed. Lenir’s eyes grew wide; Bruno knew he had him. “We require those parts delivered once a week. I will send you the location and time.”
They left the factory and returned to the cart, and turned it back the way they came. They passed the Prophet moaning on the ground, but otherwise there was nothing to keep Bruno from sleeping soundly all the way back to the Station.
Chapter 11
“I don’t care about the details, Dok,” Bruno said. “Just tell me when the damn thing will be ready.”
Bruno wiped grime from his forehead with a rag, but all it did was smear. The courtyard was enclosed on three sides by various Station rooms, but wind still kicked up dirt and swirled it around the area. Behind him was the door back to the main chamber. To his right was an entranceway to Dok’s workshop.
But what occupied their attention, and most of the courtyard, was the freighter. Square-shaped and long, it was similar to most of the others they launched, but with a coiled red snake painted on the side. Their dusty planet had no lack of ships. The Empire was in too much of a hurry to maintain the freighters that carried cargo and supplies from the planet, and it was easier to simply build more in their factories than repair those that broke down. Scrap heaps were dug and fenced-in, but Davon permitted him to enter and take what he needed.
Dok and his crew worked on the ships once they arrived. It usually took little effort to get them launch-ready; they didn’t need to fly far. But this particular ship was giving the engineer trouble. The two blocky engines extended away from the hull at the rear of the ship, and Dok had spent three days tinkering inside one. Each day the problems became more complex, his explanations more detailed. Bruno was growing impatient. The Station had many sources of income, but sending desperate civilians into space was the largest.
Dok tapped his foot into the ground, counting. “One day,” he finally said. “One day.”
Bruno eyed the fidgety man and frowned. One day seemed unlikely, and for a moment he considered arguing, but then he dismissed the thought. Dok was eccentric, but he doubted the man could lie, or even exaggerate. If he said it would be ready tomorrow then it was simply the truth.
“Need more weapons,” Dok blurted out. “Still no weapons.”
“The ships don’t need weapons, Dok.”
“But you told the woman. I heard you tell her, the woman with the yellow hair, I heard. You said--”
“Damnit Dok,” he said, grinding his teeth, “there are no weapons. There will be no weapons!”
The little man cringed away from him, and he felt a tinge of guilt. “Dok, what I say to you is not what I say to others. You just listen to what I tell you, okay Dok?”
He grunted and continued counting on his fingers, but he nodded.
Bruno spun around to return inside, but Kotra waved at him from the workshop door. “Uhh, Lord Bruno,” he said, “there’s something here you’ll want to see. Err, hear.” One of Dok’s workers stood next to him, looking uncomfortable.
The workshop was dimly lit. It was one large square with workbenches against each wall. Wires and pieces of metal spread over every surface. It all looked haphazard, though he knew it was orderly to Dok. The only wall not occupied by a workbench was a gap to the right, where a door led to the warehouse, the same one with the huge bay door to Bruno’s main chamber. He looked away from it after only a quick glance.
The worker led them to a bench on the left, where boxy electronics were stacked from the table to the ceiling. They looked like they would topple over at the slightest touch, but the worker twisted a knob and pressed a button. A buzz pierced the air and Bruno realized one of them was a speaker.
The speaker crackled, and then a voice drifted through the static. “--hear me? Can you hear me?”
The worker pressed a button and leaned forward. “We hear you, two-forty. Repeat your status, please.”
Two-forty was the freighter launched last week. Bruno shot Kotra an alarmed look, but before he could say anything the speaker crackled back to life.
“We were halfway through our acceleration to Oasis when we ran out of fuel. Must have been a leak, or a faulty sensor, or something. I don’t know. We’re drifting now. Could use some help, the next time you launch.”
The worker reached forward to respond, but Bruno grabbed his hand. “Where is the ship now?”
A clockwork map of the system was built into the wall a short distance away. Saria was a stationary ball of red, but its three planets were set into grooves, moved by unseen machinery. Other unnatural objects followed their own grooves: the Ancillary, circling close to the star in retrograde to harvesting its power; various military installations orbiting at strategic distances.
And Oasis, the neutral space station that orbited between Praetar and Melis. Its orbit was faster than either planet, but just then it was close to Praetar.
The worker took a grease pencil and drew an arc away from the yellow planet. “This is their trajectory if they continued accelerating as planned. Here is where they are now. I’ll need some time to calculate their drifting route, but by then they’ll be out of communication range.”
Bruno looked behind him to make sure they were still alone. He didn’t want Dok to hear anything. ”Let them drift. Tell them we’re sending another ship today to help them refuel.”
The worker shifted, looking from the radio to Kotra and then back to him. “I don’t know what Dok has told you, Lord Bruno, but the next freighter won’t be ready today.”
“Just send the message.” The worker continued to look uncomfortable, but Bruno’s stare set him to work. Bruno waited for him to begin speaking into the microphone before leaving the workshop.
Outside Dok tinkered with the freighter’s engine, out of earshot. Kotra whispered, “Has the blockade been lifted?”
It was the same question on Bruno’s mind. “It must have been. How else would the ship get through?”
“Maybe they missed it.”
“The Melisao don’t miss things,” Bruno said. “If a ship got through the blockade it was because they allowed it to.”
“We could leave,” Kotra said. The hardened man seemed hopeful, almost child-like then. He ran a hand through his rough hair. “If they’re letting ships through we could leave, couldn’t we?”
“I’m not a rat, and I won’t flee like one,” Bruno said. He frowned at his guard. “Is that what you want? To be a slave for the Empire in some faraway system, instead of a free man here?”
“Of course not, Bruno. I just thought you might--”
“You actually believe them?” he said, his anger boiling up. “Saria’s burned for billions of years, why should it stop now? It’s all an excuse for the Empire, believe me. I’m a king here. The Empire allows me to gather power, and I’ll continue doing it until they storm through the doors and kill me on my throne.”
Kotra dipped his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Lord Bruno.”
Dok looked up from his engine. Bruno realized he’d been shouting. He lowered his voice and said, “Get rid of the worker inside. Within the hour. Tell him you’re taking him into town or something, and do the deed there.”
“D
o you care if the body’s found?”
“No. Just don’t let anyone see you.”
Kotra smiled and returned to the workshop.
Hopefully Dok doesn’t have a fit, he thought. The engineer didn’t like new workers. But it had to be done. This one would have asked more questions and started checking fuel levels on outgoing freighters. Dok would eventually find out.
It occurred to him that the tanks would need to be filled more. It meant less profit, but he couldn’t have ships communicating back that they were stranded in open space. If word spread business would shrivel, and Davon wouldn’t be pleased. No, the freighters would need to be given enough fuel to reach Oasis. He would need to tell Rief, the only one entrusted with fueling the ships.
He wandered over to where Dok worked. The engine’s side panel was removed and the engineer was bent with his upper half inside. Bruno banged a meaty fist on the metal, and Dok jumped out of the engine.
“Have you made progress with Akonai’s project?”
Dok’s mouth hung open, and his eyes darted around. “Akonai, Akonai’s project?”
Bruno forced some patience into his voice. “Yes. The project for Akonai. How many more are built?”
“I don’t. I don’t understand. No shipment this morning, no progress. No new parts, no new rowbits.”
“The shipment didn’t come?”
“No, Bruno.” He cowered back against the engine, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry, sorry. I don’t know why. They don’t tell me why. I can’t…”
Bruno left him stammering apologies and returned inside.
Rief stood on the raised platform watching some gamblers throw dice in the corner. He jerked back to attention, facing forward, when Bruno entered. “The factory shipment,” Bruno barked, “did it not arrive?”
“It did not, Lord Bruno.”
“Why in the stars wasn’t I notified?”
“You were with the girls,” Rief said. “You didn’t want to be disturbed.”
He said it plainly, but it annoyed Bruno all the same. His men should be more fearful when he raised his voice, like Dok. His shift ended soon, but Bruno told him, “Take two men and go to the factory. Bring the foreman here so I may speak with him.”
Rief glanced at the dicing table, and for the briefest of moments opened his mouth, but then thought better of it. He grunted and bowed before leaving the chamber, his boots echoing down the front hallway.
Gamblers came and went, whores began their work, and Bruno tapped his fingers on his throne. Food was brought from the kitchen, but he was too buried in thought to eat. The freighter shouldn’t have breached the blockade. It was the first, out of dozens launched. The purpose of the blockade was to keep the Praetari laboring while the Empire prepared to leave the system. If the blockade was lifted, did that mean the Empire would soon evacuate Praetar? Was that why Lenir had not made his delivery--because production was tapering off? He would need to ask one of the girls at the factory. Perhaps the woman who sent her children on the last freighter. “She seemed desperate enough,” he announced, though nobody dared look up at him.
Davon’s request was queer too. It couldn’t be a coincidence, him demanding more launches after a freighter escaped safely. Bruno felt helplessly uninformed. He wondered how much Davon would tell him, if he forced the issue.
The sky overhead turned yellow, then grey, then black before Rief returned. Two guards followed behind him, flanking Lenir. The foreman’s clothes were dusted with yellow and torn at the collar. Rief grabbed him by the sleeve and threw him to the ground in front of the platform. The customers all shifted to one side of the room before continuing their activity.
Lenir opened his mouth to speak, but Bruno cut him off. “Your shipment did not arrive this morning.”
“I cannot do what you ask,” he said, still on his knees. “It is not possible. The factory docks are watched throughout the day.”
Bruno clenched his jaw until his ears hurt. The foreman wasn’t afraid, just confused. At least the previous man, Jin, had the decency to look afraid. “I can assure you it is possible. My men gave you instructions--what more do you need?”
“Your instructions are wrong. The docks are not clear at that time. They’ve doubled the number of peacekeepers, because of my predecessor’s theft.”
The guards looked to their master. Even some of the Station’s patrons stole glances at the platform. Nobody spoke to Bruno that way.
He nodded to Rief, who pulled back his boot and planted a blow on Lenir’s head. He fell forward on his chest and groaned, but screamed in earnest when more blows pummeled his ribs. The crowd cringed away. Rief was out of breath when Bruno finally commanded him to stop, but continued to snarl down at the unmoving foreman.
“I don’t care what difficulties you encounter. That is your responsibility. Find a way. Bribe them, if you must.”
Lenir possessed enough strength to raise his head. “Bribe them? They are peacekeepers of the Empire!”
I’ve had enough of this, he thought. “You’ve already been paid, Melisao. Every moment you delay, your theft becomes more severe.” He nodded to one of his guards. “Loddac tells me your family came to Praetar with you. You have a child, a girl of seven?”
Loddac grinned yellow teeth. “That he does, Lord Bruno. Sweet little thing, still pudgy. I bet she’s warm.”
The wounded man’s eyes opened wide.
“So you see?” Bruno said. “Your decision is an easy one! Make your delivery by dusk tomorrow, or we will unburden you further.”
Lenir tried to climb to his feet, but slipped and fell back on his face. Eventually two guards stopped laughing long enough to grab him by the shoulders and drag him from the room. The music returned to its normal, booming volume.
Bruno swung his attention to the table, his appetite returning. He picked at a few oysters, slurping them down. He liked a man with a family. A solitary man could take any manner of beating, broken ribs and torn fingernails and needles jabbed into his eyes, and remain fearless. But a man with a family had one purpose, one single reason for living. Only a father could experience true loss, so only a father could experience true fear.
It was pointless to hurt a man’s family, though. They were his primary motivation. Remove his wife, or his children, and you removed his desire for life. And then what leverage would you have over him? Grief was unpredictable, and Bruno was not in the business of taking chances.
No, it was the threat that was ideal. Give the man a taste of violence and his mind will imagine something far worse than anything Bruno could do. And Lenir had a long walk back to the city to think.
Still, something was unsettling about the man. He never had this much trouble with Jin, who supplied them with the parts without protest. But Lenir worried him. Bruno was not convinced the shipment would come, and even if it did the foreman would need to be prodded again and again. He seemed like that type of Melisao. Bruno glanced to his left, to the massive bay door that covered most of the wall. They were already too far behind schedule. Akonai was not an understanding customer.
As if the thought conjured him, the desert dweller appeared in the doorway. He looked out over the occupants, the dancers and gamblers and whores, with disgust. He met Bruno’s gaze and held it as he strode across the room. The crowd slid away from him, leaving a circle-shaped clearing that drifted toward the front.
One of the guards rushed to fetch a second chair, but Akonai stopped in front of the platform. Everything about him was exactly in its place: his hair was neatly combed and parted, boots shiny and unsmudged. He was foreign in the writhing disarray of the Station. He seemed foreign to the entire planet.
Bruno wiped away sweat from his forehead. “I hadn’t expected you, Akonai. It’s good to see you, of course, but…”
“I have come for another status update,” he said. His face gave no hint of emotion. “I have reason to believe you will not meet the date we agreed upon.”
Bruno forced a nervous laugh. “That�
��s absurd. We’ve had some delays--there always are with such a large request--but they have been minor. What reasons do you have to doubt?”
“I have sources.” He looked around the room, his eyes stopping on the bay door. “Our doubts would be eased if I could inspect the product.”
“You know that’s not possible,” Bruno said. “The fabrication process uses unsavory chemicals. My engineers don’t mind breathing them, but we don’t want to put you at risk.”
Akonai tilted his head and watched him, considering his words. He looked like he was inspecting a machine that wasn’t broken yet, but was making a strange noise. Sweat stung Bruno’s eyes but he forced himself to keep his hands still and match the man’s gaze. Why didn’t the desert dweller sweat? His clothes were thicker than Bruno’s.
Finally Akonai nodded, as if a great decision was made. “No, we don’t want that.” And with that he left as suddenly as he had come.
When he was out of sight Bruno turned to Loddac and said, “Why wasn’t I warned? Are the guards at the gate asleep? Go check. I want any man who isn’t alert to be thrashed.”
Bruno slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t make his shipment to Akonai on time he would have the desert people as enemies. If they didn’t launch more freighters then Davon would stop tolerating him. He was spread too thin. He felt his power slipping away, like sand through his fingers. Something needed to be done. Something to emphasize that he was in control.
Loddac returned and claimed none of the guards were sleeping, and that they never saw Akonai enter or leave. Bruno didn’t believe it, but waved it away. “I need Kari. Find her.”
“For Lenir?”
“Maybe.”
Loddac smiled, knowing that he may get the foreman’s pudgy daughter after all.
Kari was usually somewhere around the Station, and it didn’t take Loddac long to return with her. She was the shortest woman in the room, but with round hips and a tiny waist that would have sold well if her head weren’t shaved bald. She wasn’t one of Bruno’s whores--he wouldn’t dare suggest it, not even jokingly. Kari was an assassin.
Siege of Praetar (Tales of a Dying Star Book 1) Page 8