"It's cryo, Katie," said Kidwell, "Charles has a fake ship net complete with data well in front of the real one and isolated past what they're likely to try. What they will find exactly matches our declared manifest plus a few extra items that are legal but highly-taxed here. We should be able to bribe our way past it and it should reinforce our credibility."
"Oh. But if burning in is that easy..."
Siffai stopped talking as Micah and Kidwell burst out laughing.
"It's not," said Micah, still laughing, "Trust us on that fact. Charlie values his own privacy twice as much as he ignores everyone else's."
Siffai smiled at that and after a moment Ferrel spoke.
"Not nice, my brother! I heard that!"
Working with incredible subtlety Ferrel attached a sticky nose to the warez currently probing his system. The hostile warez didn't even twitch when he locked it in place and when they withdrew he had a fragile tunnel into their system. Before long he extended a delicate web of probes into whatever he could find. He carefully didn't alter anything but he copied everything he could. He then buried a thermal worm set to wait an appropriate time before detonating and carving him a cheap door. He had just started probing deeper when something beeped and he swore.
"What is it," asked Micah.
"Contingency blip from Ted," said Ferrel, "Putting it on screen."
Siffai relaxed from combat stance with a sheepish look at Micah. Ferrel's work mesmerized her and his sudden profanity startled her.
The lounge's decrepit holovee cleared to show Ionoski walking across the concourse toward the ship with two men in gaudy military uniforms accompanying him. Occasionally one or the other spoke, twice eliciting a response. By the set of Ionoski's shoulders and, more importantly, the presence of a kerchief dangling from his shirt pocket, he neither expected nor perceived any trouble.
"Surprise inspection," opined Micah, "Slib. Places, all. Let us match our presentation to that of our illustrious vessel."
By the time Ionoski cycled the 'lock Micah stood inside.
"This is my pilot, Carl Shale," said Ionoski, "You'll find his certifications up to date and in..."
The man on Ionoski's left cut him off and held out a biopad. Wordlessly Micah placed his palm on it. It flashed green and its display cleared to the information crypcerted into the ship's transponder.
"Acceptable," said the man, "Show us the rest of the ship."
Micah shambled behind them as they inspected every single room on the ship. He answered questions but only when the soldiers spoke to him directly, and then used as few words as possible. The two of them didn't like him there but Ionoski didn't wave him away. By his under-expression Ionoski found their dislike amusing and potentially useful.
None of the others showed any interest in them whatsoever. Kidwell even radiated mild annoyance when they invaded engineering. She looked up from a dissected faux panel, scowled and looked back down again. Barstein barely even glanced when they passed the capacitor he was draining. As soon as they passed he made a large spark and one of the soldiers jumped. The soldiers, Ionoski and Micah ended up seated in the lounge.
"Your ship is in a terrible state of disrepair," said the lead soldier.
Micah bristled at this but Ionoski made a negative gesture.
"Aye, sir. She needs a bit of work," he said, "That's why I'm wanting a tag, sir. With we trade some things with you and yours, sir, we can fix her up right."
Both of them looked at Ionoski with unconcealed disgust.
"We shall take your application into consideration. Until then this ship is interned. You and your crew may stay at the port facilities."
Ionoski started to react vehemently but the other man cut him off.
"Or you may spend more time in prison and have your... vessel confiscated. The choice is yours."
"Aye, sir," said Ionoski finally, "Do let us have time to pack, sir, please."
***
Siffai snuggled against Micah and pretended to watch the small holovee, acting her part exceptionally well. The datamart in which they sat was expensive and primitive, neither of which deterred Ferrel in the least. He made more than one happy-sound at his station across the room from them.
"This is quite boring," said Siffai softly.
"But necessary," replied Micah, equally quiet, "Besides, if we don't do this quickly and often he complains incessantly until we do."
"I meant the movie, dosha," she giggled, "Charlie appears very amused."
"He is. By the look on his face it will take a really good dessert to get him to tell us anything."
She stifled a laugh. "So why not order it now? Surely he is close to finishing."
"Not by parsecs, Katie. That predatory gleam in his eyes means he's only started good. Why do you think I ordered three shows?"
***
"... and I got a lot more good stuff besides that," said Ferrel, finally taking a bite of dessert then scowling at Micah and Siffai.
The three of them now sat in an expensive cafe close to the datamart but still in the starport.
"That is a delicacy here, Charles," said Siffai on receiving his glare.
"Well... It's indelicate for me!"
"Our ship?" Micah cut Ferrel off before he could fully engage Siffai.
"It's ninety percent approved but still on administrative hold. The reference code was contraband but not much and not serious. It seems our gift to the High General was found."
"So we go to prison or to party," said Siffai, "Why are they still holding?"
"They probably want to see what they can pull out of Ted tomorrow. Or the next day depending on how stapish they want to be. We will be approved, though. My worm worked a hades of a lot better than I thought it would! I hate to think what some serious warez would do here."
Micah waved to their waiter for more ale. Siffai held up her glass too and Ferrel scowled at them both. The food wasn't bad nor was the dessert but the prices more than made up for it!
"They might also be trying to drain our cash," grumped Ferrel, "You know the prices outside the port are half this."
"Truth," said Micah, "but we don't have visas. Yet. Be virtuous with patience, brother."
"Yet indeed," said Ferrel with a pending grin, "We shall have those credentials and more on the morrow, my brother and sister. By right or by might or by my wonderful warez!"
"Then let us discover what else this fine port has to offer," said Siffai, "I, for one, could use a good fight to work off this fine meal and dessert."
Ferrel looked at them both and shook his head. "Hrmph. Two candies in a can. Flames! That's probably a delicacy here, too."
A message to Kidwell found her and Barstein at the port's crew club. She sounded excited so Micah, Ferrel and Siffai headed that way. The sonocaster currently played an upbeat and not overly loud song so Micah swept Kidwell onto the dance floor.
"We found out a lot," said Kidwell, "Several spacers were only too happy to talk about the profit they made trading with Allhai Mik, Dhubonna, Barrha Virti and Nehguul. What's odd is they didn't trade anything exotic."
Micah danced them to a less-crowded part of the floor. "Any particulars?"
"Not a lot of detail; they don't really want any competition. Agricultural product was the most common; some raw and some refined. Ag tools and simple medicines. Basic consumer goods at or above the local maintainable level but not too much. Some wines and liquors but you have to be careful with those; some make a really good profit and others will land you under the question. Not a lot apart from that. Like I said they didn't want to pizzle their own profit."
The song ended and Micah guided her back to the table. A faster song started and she grabbed Ferrel's arm. Siffai, who just finished dancing with Barstein, caught Micah's eye and nodded. Kidwell and Ferrel finished their dance, meaning she'd briefed him, so they sat and ordered a round of ale. Then they ordered one more as Ionoski appeared and sat.
"We'll make a profit, by Heaven," he said gruffly, "S
pike me if we don't! We got our tags tomorrow and I got a few leads on stuff we can trade here!" He took a good pull of his ale. "Spike me doofy, burn it. Motherless bottomfeeders here took all our song spins."
A lady sitting with two men at the table next to theirs laughed heartily. When Ionoski turned his gaze on her she raised her glass and smiled.
"Peace and profit on you an' yours, brother," she said, "Did you say song spins?"
Ionoski nodded and the two men began chuckling.
"I'm Susan Selby from the Passion Song. These are Mick Larraby and Jake Shipley. Pleasure to meet."
"Ted Noosk, Jenni Silver, and my crew. Pleasure is ours."
"Pleasure and profit," said Selby, "Truth pure and simple, brothers and sisters. The big noise here likes song spinners. Doesn't matter what's on 'em or even if they're partic'larly good. Rumor says he sticks 'em to his walls and watches 'em sparkle."
Even Ionoski chuckled at this.
"No blather," continued Selby, "You're wanting the goods on goods. Come talk to our captain Roger McMarlin. We've been trading Jengiil space hereabouts for quite a while. We're chartered off Graparrach in the Kensie Free Systems an' we started on Sugayn with a load of slosh. Jeng strongarms confiscated about half of it. 'Import fees,' they said. 'Consideration for trade violation,' they said. Sigma line is bribes. Pay your bribes right and you won't have a bit of problem. The Jeng really aren't a bad lot but they're strict on their rules. Some of 'em are pretty stapish but they're calling the ball."
Ionoski pondered this a moment. Then he signaled their waitress and handed her several bills.
"Fill up my friends," he said, "My crew, too." Then to Selby, "Speak on, sister. We're lookin' to earn some scrubby, truth, but we don't poach."
***
Micah and Ionoski walked up the Passion Song's boarding ramp. Mick Larraby waited at the top, waving them in with a smile while directing a group of stevedores. He paused to speak into his comm, listened intently to the answer and directed them to the ship's lounge. An open doorway there showed a small room, or large closet, with a desk, terminal and lots of crowded shelves. A grizzled man stood and walked out of it.
"Peace and profit upon you, brothers. Roger McMarlin, cap'n and owner of the fair ship Passion Song. Sassy said you all had a fair chat last night. I suppose she gave away all our secrets, yes?"
"Nak, brother," said Ionoski, "Just enough to make us hungry."
"Fair winds, then." McMarlin gestured to the main table. "Have a seat an' we'll discuss things." He commed Selby for a pot of chog; when she brought it she sat beside him.
"I'll tell you my biggest secret, then," said McMarlin, "but it won't do you a lick of good. Not unless you got some mighty powerful friends. You an' your crew's out of League space, yes?"
"Aye," said Ionoski, "We've traded around the border systems there."
McMarlin lit a drugstick and offered them around. "Polar. The one thing ev'ry Jeng world will pay pure platinum for is League crystal nano."
That surprised Micah and Ionoski.
"All truth and no blather," said McMarlin with a grin, "Doesn't even have to be contraband export or military tech. League common and commercial nano's about ten times better'n what the Jeng can produce and they love the stuff. Problem is there's a cargo ton of stops 'tween here and the closest League world. By the time you pay what the Guild wants alongside all the taxes an' tariffs when you lay over you ruddy well need platinum just to cover yer costs."
McMarlin lowered his voice and looked around. "Bloody truth of things is if you can get a load of crystal nano in past all the other soggies yer set for the posh orbits."
"I understand," said Ionoski, "Selby said you've been trading Jeng space for a while. You think any of 'em would be interested in Unity exports?"
"Hell's frost, spiker! You get in a load from Unity space and it'll sell better'n hot chocolate chog! Just for the novelty of it." McMarlin's eyebrows fell. "Wait a milli. D'you have a line into the Unity?!"
Ionoski shrugged. "Not a solid one but I know some folks there."
"Then profit an' platinum on a plate to you, brother. You think they might share?"
"I'll put in a word next time I'm there. They don't really like outsiders but they're starting to at least open their eyes a bit." Ionoski reached into his pocket. "Until then maybe this will help." He handed McMarlin a crypcert.
McMarlin activated a datapad, inserted the crypcert and looked at Ionoski in disbelief.
"Certified Favorable Trade Terms," he read, "Good for common and commercial lists. Reduced export tariff and waiver for inspection fees on certified items. Is this clean?"
"Six-sigmas clean." Ionoski's expression rippled. "We're not... welcome in League space for a while. It'll expire before we can use it but it's pristine clean. Which you'll see when you verify it."
"Thanks, brother. If this checks I'll put out a good word for you. One last thing: I don't know as you've found out yet but the Jeng love their little bribes. You gotta be careful, though. Offer 'em real polite-like and make sure you tell 'em you know they would never bend a rule, but you have a sick relative or some blather like that."
Ionoski rose and offered his hand. "Thanks, brother! Profit and peace favor you and yours."
As he and Ionoski walked across the concourse Micah reached into his pocket and switched on his garble.
"Was that a good idea? We can't give away too many of those."
"Very good idea, Micah. I had Charles do some checking this morning while you and Katie were dancing. There is a solid market for crystal nano, that much is public information plus a bit of digging. Less than public is the fact that McMarlin works for the Jengiil. I don't know the exact arrangement but he does provide them information and he receives good trade deals and very light or absent fines. A few cross-correlations showed that people who upset or offend McMarlin have a lot of trouble negotiating the bureaucracy while those he likes don't. It's a pity he doesn't trade with the Esavians."
"So we're negotiating a smooth path for trading?"
"Among other things." Ionoski spoke with an audible grin. "Perhaps I didn't mention the fact that that particular crypcert has a deeply-implanted worm in it. That will give Intelligence a good idea of the path it takes before it's cashed in and possibly a few cheap doors to use in... interesting places."
"Slib. I'll close it."
"Besides," said Ionoski, "Think past the current mission. This gives us more intel on the Jengiil and extra paths to exploit."
To that Micah had no response. He shut off his garble and grinned at Ionoski.
"Bonusjack," exclaimed Ferrel once Micah and Ionoski passed the lounge door, "You were even more right than usual, Ted. Thanks to that crypcert we now have specific names to whom Cap'n Roger reports and the offices where they work. I've been working to compromise their structure, successfully I might add, in a most durable manner. Unfortunately none of the officials with whom he deals have anything to do with the Esavians."
"Does anyone?" Siffai asked rhetorically but Ferrel had an answer.
"Not from here, dear. Too far away. We need to slant our trade toward Zuvi Minor. They like a few things we still have plus some cheap medicinals we can acquire here."
"Then let us begin acquiring," said Ionoski, "Zuvi Minor. Isn't that close to Mekhajan space?"
"Dead on the beam," said Ferrel, "Next question: trade with the Mekhajan. Next answer: same basic goods plus some weapons, ammo and ordnance. Not my idea of a good cargo. Too iffy."
"I concur," said Ionoski, "With the exception of a few cases of old ammo and outdated power clips. Things we might sell for a small profit or a large friendship but that we won't miss if we lose it. Besides, power clips don't have to power weapons. That's our story for those."
"What about the Unity angle," asked Micah, "That's almost a convenient hop from Mek-Arrijon. Any free trader worth his weight in dirt would establish that route for a profit. Hades! We might even want to start working it."
"Tr
uth," said Ionoski, "List that as a strong possible."
***
Interstellar trade, thought Micah, was an excellent way to make a lot of money, travel the stars and enjoy doing both! Though the Jengiil crypcert cost only twice what the League charged their transponder adapter cost ten times more. Still, with the fractally-complex crystalline block in place and working properly the Jenni Silver traded very profitably on the five-world path to Zuvi Minor. Ionoski wasted no time turning that profit into more cargo, always with a shrewd eye toward local conditions and an eventual goal of Esavian trade. Though Jengiil customs officers charged more than they should, even when properly bribed, Ionoski still managed to clear a hefty sum in money and goods and an even greater one in information.
"This is the good life," said Ferrel, sipping his chog, "Easy money for no work! Ted, I want a ship when I retire. Better than this one, though. More modern. We really should do more of this!"
"Silly dosha," said Siffai, "you do do more of this. Is interstellar trade not the very cornerstone of the League and all its member systems?"
"It is," agreed Ferrel, "I just want a bigger piece of the cake! A more hands-on approach to things, don't you know. A ship of my own to sail where I will and trade what I wish. A simple yet blissful dream! What more could a sane man want?"
"A good pilot, perhaps?" Micah smiled as Ferrel raised him a finger. "Unless you want to drive yourself."
"That is your job, my partner! A share of the profit and a key to the galaxy. All of it ours for the taking."
"You'll need a good engineer," said Kidwell, "I expect you to pay for my certification and I want three percent off the top. That's Guild rate and I will not settle for less! You might also turn your greedy gaze to a steward for the passengers and cargo. That will relieve you of tending either yourself and you should be able to find one for, say, one percent plus bonuses. Don't forget supplies and maintenance, either. You don't want your ship breaking down in link."
"Ahh, feces," said Ferrel, still grinning, "What wonderful friends I have, Ted. The take absolute joy in spoiling my beautiful dreams."
"Some truth there," agreed Ionoski, "but if you can't rut your friends then who can you? How are the correlations?"
The Radical Factor (Stone Blade Book 3) Page 6