The Death of Wisdom

by Paul Brunette

  "Somehow," she said to Deep Six a full day later, "I don't see this being an idea! location for commerce."

  "I concur, Red Sun. Beyond a relic planetary-defense missile system, there is no evidence of modern facilities."

  "Roger that. Set course for Sauler."

  But Sauler, a binary system lacking not only gas giants but also planetoid belts with ice, would have to be approached directly—an option that did not fill the crew with enthusiasm after Bwan Hurr. Appropriately, the gunners were staring down their gunsights, and Couer was standing by for evasive maneuvers even before Hornet was out of jump.

  "Target," Deep Six said. "SDB bearing 220, range 100,000 and hailing."

  "I'll take it," Coeur said, tuning in on the SDB's frequency.

  "Unknown vessel, this is SDB Springbok; identify yourself and stand to for boarding."

  "Understood, SDB, This is the free trader Wasp, out of Lancer, standing to."

  "Wise choice, Wasp, Will be there in 20."

  Coeur shut off the radio, wearing a grim expression on her face.

  "Sixer, get Scissor and execute the ruse. I'll get Gyro up here to play co-pilot."

  "Affirmative."

  When she came within visual range, Springbok proved not to be an SDB at all, but a starship—a Gazelle-class close escort wearing the insignia of the starmerc company Raglan's Raiders. No one aboard Hornet h3d ever heard of that company, but its employees certainly made a dramatic first impression. Springbok's inspection party comprised two troopers in relic Imperial Marine battle dress (clumsy, but almost invulnerable) and a third man in a tailored TL-14 vac suit.

  "Aaron Boden," the latter individual said, upon entering Hornet through a docking collar, "of Raglan's Raiders, providing security for the Sauler Starport Cooperative. Are you the commanding officer here?"

  "Yvette Francois," Coeur said, "yes. And this is Sharik Ishkidenum, my XO."

  Gyro exchanged a polite nod with the starmerc.

  "We'll need access to your hold, quarters, drives, and computer core."

  "Sir," Coeur said, spreading her hands in an expansive gesture of acceptance, "we are completely at your disposal,"

  As the Arses expected, the two troopers in heavy armor did little of the actual inspection—they were mainly along to impress and cow the trader crew—but Boden was a crafty old hand who knew all the tricks. He accessed the computer directly, for instance, rather than reading logs from the bridge, and put on a helmet to check the unpressurized sections of the drive decks for smuggled contraband. An hour's worth of inspection, however, revealed only the cargo Coeur wanted to be seen: a launch, a grav tank, and two bizarre xenomorphs floating in a tank In the hold.

  "What the hell are those?" Boden asked.

  "That's a squid and a porpoise," Coeur said. "We're taking 'em on through to Solee—if we get a chance."

  Boden looked more closely at Scissor, floating limp on its broadly splayed limbs.

  "I didn't know Hivers lived in water."

  Oh, you had to be a smart bastard, didn't you? Coeur thought, surprised. 'They don"t," she replied, thinking fast. "We just keep him in there because he's clumsy in water, and it makes it harder for him to escape."

  "Hm. Theyre not moving much; are you sure they're alive?"

  "Oh, yeah, they're alive. But we shot 'em so full of tranq they won't wake up for the duration."

  "Right," Gyro said, picking up a lead pipe. "Watch this."

  Suddenly, the XO delivered a whipping blow to Deep Six's back, startling even the men in heavy armor. Fortunately, they weren't aware that that was the place where the Schalli's insulating blubber was thickest.

  "See? Out like a light."

  "Figured they'd bring more money alive," Coeur said, "though we'll air 'em out if they cause any trouble."

  Boden nodded, with a pleased smile on his face.

  "I don't suppose you actually purchased any of the cargo in this hold, did you?"

  "It's in my cargo hold," Coeur said. 'That makes it mine, the way I see it."

  "She's a sharp one," Boden said, to his ominously quiet escort. "Skipper, I've got a question for you. Are you a friend of the captain?"

  "Excuse me?"

  Boden smiled proudly, "No, I didn't think you were. But I'll bet we make a nice commission if you're accepted."

  "Accepted for what?" Gyro asked.

  "Why, the Mercantile Guild, of course. With your, ah...gift,..for acquisition, you'll be shoo-ins for a membership."

  The moment the air lock closed behind Springbok's inspection party, a celebratory whoop went up from every inhabited compartment of RCS Hornet. Coeur, however, put a stop to any premature celebration.

  "All right, people," she said on shipwide intercom from the bridge, "settle down. We may have found a Guild outpost, but it's not necessarily the outpost we're looking for. I'll expect good order, regardless of what we find."

  So advised, the crew contained itself, and Gyro plotted a course that fit within the narrow approach window allowed by Springbok. Since another inspection might await on the surface of Sauler, Gyro stayed at the copilot's station all the way down to the surface, while Whiz Bang covered for her at the starboard laser turret.

  Sauler was a large world—as large as Coeur's home- world Terra—and that dismayed her at first. With less than half of its surface liquid water, Sauler had abundant area within which to hide a stockpile of biological munitions—or almost anything else the Guild felt like keeping there. Compelled to stay on her assigned course by Springbok and a sister close escort, Hornet did not have the liberty to orbit where she wished and narrow down any future search with close orbital scans.

  Well, hell, Coeur thought, it could be worse. At least we're here.

  "Have you been keeping an ear on the radio channels?" Coeur asked Gyro, while they were still well above the dense stratosphere.

  "Affirmative. There's at least three balkanized states on this side of the planet, but no suggestion of a unifying higher power. If the Guild is here, they must not be ruling directly."

  "They do have a starport," Coeur pointed out.

  "True, And that's the key to controlling a planet,"

  "Funny. I could have sworn that was one of my lessons."

  "It was," Gyro said. "I got an A."

  The starport, as it happened, was located at the narrowest point of an isthmus connecting Sauler's great northern and southern continents. Its immediate geographical extent, Coeur realized, must therefore be limited, though—on the other hand—there was no better position from which to dominate trade both on world and off. Though only a handful of ships were visible in starport berths on the way in, more could easily be hidden behind tarps or inside warehouses, and Coeur didn't leap to a premature judgment about its modest size.

  "Ship is down," Cyro announced after the ship settled into a walled starport berth. "All stations send secured."

  "Roger that. Powering down."

  "Receiving a message. The Port Authority wishes to speak to you."

  "Put them through."

  "Captain Francois," a man's voice came over the radio. "I'm Oskar Bicek, director of the Port Authority. Welcome to Sauler Downport."

  "I'm honored," Coeur said. "What have we done to merit your attention?"

  "I'd like to discuss that in my office," Bicek said, "at your convenience."

  "Where is your office?"

  "We've given you a berth with full fuel and data modem hook-ups. Once you're linked into the data net, you can find a map which will show you the way to the Port Authority."

  "Very good. I'll be there as quickly as I can. Can I assume my crew has liberty to leave the ship?"

  "By all means, captain. However, I should advise you that we can't allow you to carry any weapons out of your berth, or leave the municipal boundary of the starport."

  "What about a customs declaration?"

  Bicek chuckled.

  "Captain, I see you're unfamiliar with Sauler, This is a free port."

 
; "I see,"

  "Just abide by our simple regulations, and everything will be fine."

  "Understood, sir. We'll abide by your laws. Wasp, out."

  "Trust him?" Gyro said, afterward.

  "About as far as I could throw him," Coeur said. "But at least we're down in one piece. Now assemble the crew in the lounge; it's time to go out and make friendly with the locals."

  * * *

  It was not until Gyro pulled up a map of Sauler Downport that Coeur discovered a strange fact: the municipal boundary was very small indeed, "About 10 square kilometers," Deep Six observed, back in his rollerchair alter the threat of inspection had passed. "Although an area of 100 square kilometers is actually owned by the Sauler Starport Cooperative. Apparently, these two areas are the only ones directly controlled by the Port Authority, since entry into the Kingdom of Serritella to the north and the Kalina Empire to the south requires appropriate visas from those governments."

  "Damn," Bonzo said, "if only we had modern library data, we'd have more of an idea what the situation is here."

  "That's why we're going to go and check it out," Coeur said. "Whiz Bang, Mercy, and Crowbar, check out the local cargo brokers to sell our cover. Drop Kick and Snapshot, take the air raft and snoop around the city for anything unusual. Physic, you're with me."

  "What about us, sir?" Bonzo and Gyro asked.

  "You stay here, and look after the ship and Deep Six and Scissor, You must not allow anyone to try removing them from the hold."

  "Yes, sir."

  "All right, let's do it."

  Given the small size of the municipal zone—no area was more than two kilometers from the central berths— the three sortying groups decided not to use the air raft, travelling into the city on foot instead.

  'There's just one thing I'd like to know," Physic said, as she and Coeur left the berth and walked up the sidewalk of a busy street outside.

  "What?" Coeur asked, pausing at a crosswalk while internal-combustion ground cars chugged past.

  Physic's voice dropped to a whisper. "Where did we stow the guns, and armor, and old computer data?"

  "Where do you think?" Coeur asked, as a changing light halted the oncoming traffic and they were clear to cross the street, The approach of local Saulerians, however, prevented Physic from venturing an opinion until they were out of earshot.

  "Well, they looked in the drive section, and the hull frame, and keel spaces. Could they have been hidden inside the fuel tanks?"

  Coeur smiled. "We'll make a pirate out of you yet, doctor."

  "Great. Remember to mention that at my courtmartial."

  Coeur left that one alone. If the Coalition gave greater weight to a brief lapse in Medlab security than it did to Physic's dedicated service on Ra in the face of rampant death and suffering—well, then it wouldn't be the Coalition Coeur had sworn to serve and defend.

  "According to the map, the Port Authority should be right around this corner and over the trans-isthmus canal. Ah, there it is."

  Like most starport administrative offices, the Sauler Port Authority was conveniently close to its surrounding berths. However, the only ground access to the authority and its adjacent executive berths was across a cantilever drawbridge spanning the ship channel cutting through the middle of the city. Coeur suspected that the design was deliberate, giving the Guild administrators a way to cut off ground access in case the local population ever got ugly.

  "Have you noticed," Physic said, as they crossed the bridge, "how most of the people here look like locals?"

  "That doesn't mean the administrators are local. Remember, Guild products have been found all over the AO."

  "Yeah, l suppose it would be cheaper to use local labor."

  "Be nice if they got those "Raglan's Raiders" at a bargain sale. I'd really hate to have to blast my way out of a net thrown by competent mercenaries."

  "So that's the plan? Smash and grab?"

  "just thinking out loud, doctor," Coeur said.

  Physic saved her response, for they had come upon their destination. The Port Authority Building, as both could see, was an imposing marble structure in the pompous Ramshackle Empire style, and obviously not of recent construction. Yet, for all its grand angularity, there were no guards at the front door, and only a single officer of the Starport Municipal Police inside to man the weapons checkpoint. After politely patting down the Arses' bodies for weapons, he then passed them through a TL- 12 metals and explosives scanner, and into the ground floor lobby.

  Inside, the women encountered the movement of bureaucrats and clerical workers typical of any prosperous port office. People as for removed from gun-running ond slaving as anyone could be, Coeur noted, but indispensable to the Guild all the same.

  "Here it is," Coeur said, finding a TL-12 computer display on the wail, "Port Director's Office, third floor. Let's take the elevator."

  The quick response of the elevator bank, sending a car down from the second floor almost instantly, suggested maglev technology—almost certainly an import from offworld. Seconds later, the summoned cab lifted them to the third floor and opened before a frosted glass and wire window painted with the words:

  SAULER STARPORT COOPERATIVE PORT MASTER'S OFFICE

  Exiting the cab, Coeur and Physic met only the second security officer they'd seen In the entire city—a police officer carrying paperwork out of the port master's office. Coeur paused to hold the elevator door open for him, reflecting that a starport with a law level as high as Sauler Downport must surely have an impressive security force to back it up. That it was largely unseen was a clear sign that the port was out to appear extremely congenial to its guests.

  Oh Lord, Coeur thought, accepting the officer's thanks and joining Physic in entering the port master's office through an archaic swinging door, I sure hope that that occurs to Drop Kick and Snapper before they go and get themselves arrested by plainclothes cops.

  The office was quite large inside, taking up what must be a fourth of the floor with banks of data-entry workstations and their rigorously quiet male and female attendants. One, whose screen was turned so Coeur could peek at it over the long desk preventing further progress, was authorizing transport of a certain "Commodity SHM" to the destination "Broker PVE."

  SHM, Coeur mused, I wonder...slave, human, male?

  "Can I help you?" the office manager asked, looking up from her station.

  "Yes ma'am. We have an appointment for 1000 hours to see Mr, Bicek. Yvette Francois, starship Wasp."

  "Oh, yes, he's expecting you. Pass through the gate please, and to your left,"

  Doing so, they kept well clear of the busy clerical gang and strode across a brief space of uncarpeted marble to the port master's room, its sliding automatic door already unlocked for their ingress. There they found the fifth essence of any profitable starport, a dutiful director coordinating two different phone calls simultaneously. Then, glancing up, the balding man halted in his conversations, directing a quick glance at Physic and Coeur in their khaki jumpsuits and then advised the other parties to call him back.

  "Captain Francois," he said, reaching across his desk to shake her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you. And you are...?"

  "Dr. Keiko Sato," Physic said, shaking his hand in turn.

  "Port Master Oskar Bicek. Please, have a seat."

  "You seem to be very busy," Coeur said. "Perhaps we should come back when it's more convenient."

  "Busy? Who's busy? I'm never too busy to greet a new patron of our facility. Now tell me, did you find the berth facilities adequate?"

  "Adequate isn't quite the word for it. After all the pissholes we've been through in the Wilds, this place is a real godsend."

  "We like to think of ourselves that way," Bicek said with an unctuous smile, then pulling over a computer display. "I have the report here from the patrol that met you in orbit. It seems that you're from Lancer, and you're carrying a remarkable little cargo."

  "Do you mean those two organisms we're hauling?"
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  "Not just that. You've got a 10-ton launch with luxury fittings and a Coalition grav tank—hardly items you pick up at a garage sale."

  Coeur shrugged, modestly. "Oh, well, I wouldn't make too much of that. Let's just say that a Coalition merchant got a little too far from her escort for her own good."

  Bicek nodded, admiringly. "Is that where you picked up the organisms?"

  "You mean the squid and the porpoise?"

  "Right. The xenomorphs."

  Leaning forward, Coeur glanced cautiously to the left and the right before answering. "Frankly, Mr. Bicek, I'd just as soon slice up the squid and the porpoise, and sell 'em as fish bait, but I caught a rumor at Marax that the Empress Solee might be interested in adding some xenos to her zoo. That's why we brought 'em along."

  Leaning back in his chair for a moment, Bicek then let out a good-natured laugh.

  "You, Captain Francois, are the boldest pirate I've ever met! And it's high time a woman like you joined the Guild."

  Simultaneous, but modest smiles crossed the faces of both women.

  "I'm sure that would be nice," Coeur began, "but we are pressed for time. I'd just as soon not hang around for a background check,"

  "Do you have a background?" 8icek said.

  "I could come up with several," Coeur answered.

  "I'd expect that. However, are there any other traders familiar with your operation?"

  "In this area? Negative."

  'That's not so good. If you had contacts here, and they were already associates of the Guild, their sponsorship would make it much easier to process your membership"

  "You have to respect his position," Physic said to Coeur. "It isn't profitable for an organization to venture assets on an unproven commodity."

  "She's also our accountant," Coeur explained to Bicek.

  "I see," Bicek said. "Well, there is another option. We could extend a probationary membership, and make it formal after a year."

  "What are the conditions?" Coeur asked"Nothing extraordinary. Basically, we'd ask you to prove your profitability in some special missions that are out of the way for other members. You'd clear 20% off the top though, easily, on the targeted cargoes we have available,"