Pandora’s Crew (StarWings Book 1)

by Gorg Huff

  “Couldn’t they put a second sheath on the nuke in case it ran into . . .” Captain Gold stopped speaking, and Gerhard knew where his mind was going.

  Yes, of course they could, Gerhard thought, once they realized the danger. But it would add materially to the size, weight and expense of the hunter. And, for that matter, figuring out when to activate it would add to the complexity of the artificial brain that ran the nuke.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Danny Gold used his implants and Pan’s cameras to locate and observe everyone on the ship. It was automatic for Danny, trained reaction and instinct working together. Dangerous situation, locate all threats and targets.

  He didn’t know these people, not well anyway. What he did know was that this was dangerous knowledge, the sort of thing that would potentially upset the balance of power in the Pamplona Sector.

  What Danny wasn’t at all sure of was whether that would be a good thing.

  Well, he knew one other thing.

  You couldn’t get the genie back in the bottle.

  Danny stopped. Actually, he might be able to recork that bottle. It would be messy and involve the deaths of four little girls and six adults. But it could be done.

  No. Pan would not approve, especially since several of those people were her owners now, and the rest were her crew.

  Danny liked to think that he wouldn’t have done it, anyway. And maybe he wouldn’t . . . but only maybe. Danny really didn’t want to be involved in politics and he was afraid that this was going to put him there, right up to his eyeballs. He thought it through, but he thought fast. Pan, he sent on a dedicated channel, include Hirum. Fill him in on what we know so far. We are going to need him for this. Include Jenny too. She already knows, and it was her idea. Then, on a wide link, he said, “All right. I wish we could all suffer specific amnesia, but we can’t. So our only real choice is to go the other way. Doctor Schmitz, I need you to start working with Hirum and come up with a design for anti-hunter-nuke missiles. One that works. In the meantime, we need to keep this absolutely secret. Doc, what effect would a wing like that have on ordinary grapeshot? Or sand, for that matter.”

  “Depends on the wing,” Gerhard said. “And the angle. But there is a good chance that it would deflect it.”

  “That’s good news, because if anyone finds out we have something like this, we are going to have to fight off frigging fleets who will be throwing everything they can think of at us.” Danny looked at them all again. “So let’s not tell anyone, shall we. Not even your wife,” he added, looking at Gerhard.

  It was Robert who answered. “That won’t work, I’m afraid. Dad did a much better job of hiding his side projects from Mom than I would have expected, but that was because she wasn’t paying attention.”

  “She was busy with departmental affairs,” Gerhard said, defending his wife.

  “Which she very much isn’t now,” Robert said. “She’ll have it out of him inside a week, and besides . . . if we are going to figure out the political consequences of this, she is the one we want to talk to.”

  Danny considered. Robert was probably right. “What about John and Checkgok? They’re the only ones left on the Pan who don’t know.” He looked over at Jenny. “What do you think?”

  Jenny looked a lot like a deer caught in a bright light. But after a minute she said, “John’s not good at keeping secrets when he drinks.”

  Hirum said belligerently, “I don’t think we should tell the bug.” It wasn’t the first comment he had made about Checkgok and he knew that Danny disagreed. When Danny looked at him, Hirum’s mouth took on a hard line. “It’s not because he’s a bug. Well, it is, but not the way you think. You’re going to turn him over to his clan when we get to Parthia, right? Well, when you do, he’s going to be obligated to tell them about any tricks he’s picked up, and this is the sort of trick that might let Parthia hold off the whole Cordoba Spaceforce for years. Not that I would mind that all that much, but you don’t tell secrets like this to someone who is going to have divided loyalties.”

  Danny nodded. “Then we need a cover story for both of them to explain what you’re doing, Doc.”

  Gerhard shrugged. “In spite of all appearances, duplicity doesn’t come naturally to me.”

  Danny considered. “Something moderately innocuous, but potentially profitable enough so that you want to keep the details secret. . . . Hm . . . Doc, you’re working on a new sort of construction drone. One that can be tossed at a rock in space and put to work finding and processing ores. The idea is we find an asteroid and drop off your drone, then come back in a year or so and pick up a cargo of processed metals or rare earths or whatever. Sort of a manager for mining drones. It’s got to have maneuvering capability to make a soft landing on the rock. Hirum is helping you with the mining part of it, because of his experience in Morland. Oh, and Doc, if you actually can come up with such a manager, we would all appreciate it.”

  “That’s actually a very interesting project,” said Gerhard.

  “Glad you like it. But we need brains that can run our anti-missile missiles. So how are your other projects going?” Danny was asking how much time Gerhard could dedicate to the new stuff. Because if the professor was busy, some of the projects he was working on would have to be put on hold.

  “The repairs on the brains we bought in the Danworth outsystem are going fine and the new ship brain design is coming along quite well.” Danny knew that Gerhard wanted to make a ship’s brain that would be able to use the wing controllers and still have Pan’s ability to read the shape of space by using some of Sally’s structure to administer the smaller brain subsystems. But the new weapon took precedence.

  “You know that the mine manager bot will have some of the same issues, and the same architecture might work well for it,” Gerhard continued after a few moments of thought. “Not the shield missiles, of course. They will be more reactive, more instinctive, in their response pattern . . .”

  He trailed off and Danny sighed. It was a good thing they had Sally, otherwise Professor Gerhard Schmitz would never actually do anything. He’d keep reworking the designs forever.

  “Sally, please coordinate with Robert and Hirum. And keep me informed of your progress.” He gestured to the others and they left the professor to his musings.

  Gerhard didn’t notice.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Checkgok proved profoundly interested in Doctor Schmitz’s new project. One of the most difficult things for the Parthians was asteroid mining. Sending Parthians out to work on rocks far away from clan and kin was slow torture and that had limited their exploitation of even their home system. But that project wouldn’t show results for weeks, or even months.

  For now, Checkgok was deeply involved trading goods using John, Robert and, sometimes, Danny or the professora, as its front. It was buying and selling, moving the Pandora around in the Delta System, loading and unloading cargoes, until their bank account was noticeably lower, but their holds were bulging with goods.

  Location: Cordoba Space, Delta System

  Standard Date: 08 08 630

  “When will we be leaving, Captain?” Checkgok asked.

  “Whenever you tell us to.” Danny looked away from the game of Planets he and John were playing on the lounge’s main screen. “You’re the master trader, and most of the cargo on the Pan belongs to your clan. So, you tell me when and where.”

  “In that case, Captain, can you find me a route to the Smoking Badger system in Drake space?”

  The Smoking Badger system was named after a comet that no longer existed. It was a chunk of rock and ice, and when the jump into the system had first been made, the ice and rock looked like a badger sitting on a log and having a smoke.

  The smoking badger, fifty years later, crashed into the second largest planet in the system, a Jupiter-sized behemoth that was only ten light minutes from the small yellow sun. Badger’s Grave had four moons of a size to have atmospheres, and one of them even had considerable oxygen
and an ecosystem of sorts. Unfortunately, it was inimical to humanoid life. Gravestone was mined for a set of complex chemical compounds that were common on its surface, but the population of Smoking Badger lived in stations that dotted the system.

  “Why on Earth do you want to go to Smoking Badger?”

  “Because we have almost a million tons of Coskga oil, which is much better for processing the fungus from Gravestone than the Drake’s Trom oil. If we can get it to the Smoking Badger system without running into a Drake patrol ship, we should be able to sell it at a considerable profit.”

  Danny was already scanning the rutter, looking for a route to Smoking Badger. He needed to make a loan payment anyway, and the only place he could do that was in Drake space. “Who owns the oil? Clan Zheck or the Pan?”

  “Clan Zheck owns most of it. However, you, in the person of Danny Gold, own twenty-two thousand tons. Which should bring you up to date on your note to SMOG Savings and Loan.”

  Location: Averseian System, Border Space

  Standard Date: 09 24 630

  Everyone was at stations as they went through the jump into the Averseian system. Rosita was at the comm station since Pan didn’t have a comm officer, and Rosita liked being on the bridge when they made jump.

  “Welcome to Averseian, Pandora,” came over the comm. The screen split to show the space around them with inserts for the oncoming comm messages. This insert showed a man in the uniform of a Cordoba Spaceforce captain.

  There was a short pause, then, “Pandora, we show the Drakes as having a want out on you. A complaint was filed by Casa Verde Station. Improper departure procedure. And there’s a counterclaim that you were falsely accusing them of financial manipulation. Would you care to comment?”

  “Not without the particulars of the complaint and the advice of counsel, I wouldn’t,” Danny said. The locals at Casa Verde station had tried a scam to get the Pan, and Danny escaped with empty holds and half-empty tanks. Apparently, they wanted to get their counterclaims in before he got back to Drake space and filed a complaint.

  The rest of the screen showed not just the empty space that was really there, but the borders between Cordoba and Drake space, and each asteroid or station was colored in Drake blue or Cordoba purple. The Averseian System was border space. The system was owned by the Drakes, but out here there were two forts, a Cordoba Spaceforce fort next to the jump into Cordoba space and a Drake fort next to the jump into Averseian insystem. The two jump points were less than a light second apart.

  “That’s probably wise. But you’re still in Cordoba space until you get half a light second from the jump, and it occurs to me that you might want to stay in Cordoba space until you get these little technical difficulties worked out.”

  Another voice, and another insert came over the comm. This one showed a man in a Drake Spaceforce uniform. “As much as it pains me to question the motives of my esteemed colleague, Captain Junior Grade Alvarez is probably just looking for a tip.”

  “Oh, come now, Commander Bronson. You know we have to keep track of such things,” Alverez replied, though he didn’t look all that put out by the suggestion. “Have to protect the rights of residents of Cordoba space, don’t we? Captain Gold, I have another note here, stating that you’re behind on your payments to SMOG. So that’s another thing you might want to clear up before you cross into Drake space.”

  “Thanks, Captain Alvarez. I appreciate it.”

  “Meanwhile, if you just stay in Cordoba space for a few hours while we’re working it out, you will give Captain Alvarez plenty of time to have a cutter come alongside and inspect your cargo for a little rake off,” Bronson said.

  “I am shocked, but not really surprised, that you would attribute such venial motives to me,” Alvarez said, then, sighing theatrically, continued. “Isn’t it always our own motive that we see in others?”

  “That’s excellent news, Captain, since several of us are Cordoba stockholders,” said Rosita.

  Danny told Pan not to transmit, then said to Rosita, “That’s the sort of thing that we probably don’t want to broadcast to the Drakes.”

  “Why ever not, Captain? You know that there are reciprocal agreements in place between the Drakes and the Cordobas. The Drakes recognize Cordoba stockholders as citizens and there are Cordoba embassies in Drake space.”

  “Officially, Professora, officially. But what’s official and what happens aren’t always the same thing.”

  “You have Cordoba stockholders aboard?” Commander Bronson’s voice was considerably cooler now.

  “Hey,” Danny offered, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood. “I had to make enough for the loan payments somehow. Besides, it’s just a couple of professor types doing scholarly research, and their family.” He had Pan send the names and backgrounds for everyone to both the Drakes and Cordobas. The cat was out of the bag, anyway.

  “I’m afraid that we’re going to have to investigate,” Commander Bronson said. “There have been reports of espionage by—”

  “There are always reports of espionage. Your public information bureau produces them weekly to justify—” Captain Alverez started.

  “And your VP of System Relations puts out threats of—”

  “Gentlemen,” Danny interrupted, “if you are going to start the next consolidation war right here, would you mind greatly if we got out of the way first?”

  There was a pause of several seconds. Pan reported responding to several queries from the expert systems on the Drake and Cordoba forts. Then Captain Alvarez came back on. “Captain Gold, you’re a citizen of Cybrant Five?”

  Danny sighed quite audibly. “Technically, yes, Captain, though I am not on speaking terms with my family, and haven’t been for decades. But, yes. Between the Cybrant Five citizenship and ownership of the Pan, I have the equivalent of Drake space citizenship.”

  “In that case, I suggest that you escrow your share of Cordoba stock for the duration of your stay in Drake space, and not mention that you own it.”

  “That was our plan, Captain.”

  “In that case, Captain, don’t be too hard on Doctor Stuard. It was probably for the best. Cordoba stockholder status is not the best set of credentials to have in Drake space, but it’s better than being a non-citizen resident. And, as to the Parthian, I would keep him on ship as much as you can.”

  “It, Captain. Checkgok is a neuter female, referred to as ‘it.’ “

  “It, then,” Captain Alvarez said. “But keep it on ship, because some of the worlds in Drake space are going to see it as an ‘it’ in the pejorative sense. As an animal or a monster.

  “Now, as to the rest, let me negotiate with Commander Bronson, but don’t expect to get out of this without a bribe. I respect your stockholder status. Bronson doesn’t, not at all.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Rosita sat in the comm chair with her lips buttoned. She was furious at herself and at the situation. The bribe was a large one, and Danny made it clear that at least a good portion of it was because of her blurting out that they were stockholders. Still, it wasn’t payment for nothing. It did get their papers confirmed and the Coskga oil registered as legitimately transferred.

  But a large part of her anger was based on fear. The tension between the Drake and Cordoba Spaceforce officers was real, in spite of the fact that they had known each other for what was clearly a long time. What was happening with the military? Both militaries?

  Chapter 16

  “Everything is very simple in war, but the simplest thing is difficult. These difficulties accumulate and produce a friction, which no man can imagine exactly who has not seen war.”

  On War, Clausewitz, Pre-space Treatise

  Location: Cordoba Space, CSFS Indiana Jones, off Parise Fleet Headquarters Station, Parise System

  Standard Date: 09 25 630

  The chief petty officer saluted as Tanya swung into the loading dock from the shuttle, and the ship got back underway. Absent acceleration, they would have been in
microgravity, and apparently the ship’s policy was to maintain motion whenever possible. “Ready for inspection, Grand Stockholder.”

  Commander Tanya Cordoba-Davis of the Cordoba Spaceforce didn’t flinch at the use of her civilian rather than her military title. Instead, she returned the salute in the proper military manner. She still resented it but had learned not to complain. What was more of a problem was the inspection itself. She should have simply been escorted to the bridge so she could read herself aboard. Read aloud the orders that gave her command.

  “Very well, Chief.” The exspatios were in dress blacks, not the whites of a Spaceforce sideparty. Exspatios were tasked with inspection of shipping and boarding actions against other ships or stations, even drops onto planets. Basically the same role that in pre-space days had been performed for navies by marines. But they weren’t marines any more than a spacer was a swabbie. Suggesting they were tended to leave the one suggesting it in the hospital.

  Tanya approved of the sentiment. The loading dock was white enamel and spotless. A little too spotless. Every piece of equipment was in place and looked unused. That bothered Tanya as she stepped up to a first spacer. He presented his flechette gun. She held out her hands.

  For a moment nothing happened. Another bad sign. Then he passed it over. By now, Tanya was seriously worried. She took the gun down. She disassembled it and passed the parts to Jimmy as she finished with them.

  Gunny Dugan didn’t say a word as he took the parts. Neither did anyone else.

  Shit. This capacitor hasn’t been used. If someone tried to fire this at full charge, it could blow up. The SC24 flechette gun fired a magnetic needle at anything from a slow, mostly harmless, 10 MPS to 3,000 MPS—at which speed it would cut right through the armor on a tank or ship’s boat. To do the latter safely, the capacitor had to be worked in, used at lower charges, which left a minor but noticeable discoloration. The gun also kicked like an enraged mule and took both skill and strength to use properly. For a moment, Tanya just stared at the oh-so-clean and useless capacitor. Then she looked at the spacer. He was a bit red in the face, which was the first really hopeful sign she had seen since coming aboard.