Robber Baron

by Wil C. Fry

  Back on the human continent, we saw risqué movies, swam nude in the tame ocean, gambled at the casinos, ate at nice restaurants, and watched some of the basketball championship. The two conference champions, one hailing from Maze and the other from Turner's Planet, were duking it out in a nine-game series for the Galactic Championship.

  When Destiny's three brothers all went to the final game, she and I sneaked off to downtown Carmenghia, to visit banks. We had decided to split our money into several different accounts, of slightly differing amounts. Feeling slightly foolish, I wore only a pair of shorts and comfortable, form-fitting slippers, while Destiny wore a thong and body-paint. At my insistence, she added coin-sized stickers to her nipples. Still, I couldn't help drooling over her, and noticed that many other men gazed long at her supple form.

  *

  "How much?" The pretty girl behind the desk looked stupefied when Destiny had mentioned depositing half a million newdollars. She put a shocked hand to her painted chest.

  "Is that too much?" Destiny asked, while I looked around, acting bored.

  "Oh, no," the girl replied. "Not at all. It's just that, well, it's not often we find people as young as yourselves with so much money. Where did you get all that?"

  "Are you new here?" was all Destiny said. "Can I speak to your manager?"

  "Well, there's no reason to do that. I think I can handle the transaction. I was just curious."

  Destiny looked at her and smiled. "I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to be rude. Look, there are a lot of casinos around. A lot of wealthy people visit your city, I'm sure. My father owns Dester Mining Corporation from the Hollis System. I would just like to deposit my money in your bank, since there's been some trouble on Persiphone. I'm sure you've heard. We had two banks robbed recently, and I don't feel comfortable putting my money in them."

  "No I hadn't heard," the young woman replied. "But it makes a lot of sense. I think you'll be happy with our bank, ma'am. We don't ask for any identification when making deposits, and to withdraw, all you'll need is the code word and number. Does that sound all right?"

  We repeated that scenario with only minor variations at eight different banks, depositing half a million or so newdollars in each one, cashing in our colonial credits for the more common currency. The only problems we ran into was deciding what to do with Destiny's empty bags. At first, we were going to drop them in a dumpster, but we elected instead to buy new clothes with some of the money we had kept out for ourselves. We filled the bags with our new purchases. I thanked my lucky stars that Destiny's parents weren't snooping types.

  I spent the last two days at the Mirage Casino and Resort with Destiny, drinking a little, and gambling a lot. That's when I decided never to gamble again, unless I left most of my money at home. I had started with a thousand newdollars, won eighteen thousand, and left with about ten. Not ten thousand, you understand, just TEN.

  I used that ten to buy a box of new darts for our tranquilizer gun. I'm not against gambling on moral grounds. I think it's a fun and relaxing way to throw away your money. But don't count on getting rich. Don't leave your wife and kids hungry while you spend the last of your life savings at a casino. For some people, it can become addictive, and destroy their lives. I prefer to bet only on things where I have a reasonable chance of winning.

  At least when you bet on a ball game, there are only two possible winners. In a casino, your odds are much worse.

  *

  On the way back to Persiphone, in a different ship, Destiny and I met in one corner of the ship's recreation room, and brought up a chessboard on the table's holographic surface. I knew just enough about the game to move the pieces correctly, so I was content to lose to her while we went over the code words and code numbers for our eight accounts. I found that it was easy to remember all the numbers and words, but the hard part was to associate the right word with the right number.

  As soon as I was sure we had it down, she shoved the paperwork into the trash can, and moved her queen. "Checkmate."

  *

  It was after the return Jump that we heard about the Sleebbs. The scout ship McRay had been following a pre-planned route from star to star, so it was fairly easy to retrace her path. The all-purpose cruiser Dragonius II had done so, finding the McRay's remote beacon still pulsating in the outer reaches of the last system she visited, later to be called the Iakola System. There, Dragonius II fought a minor skirmish with an alien vessel, and returned to Nubase to report.

  For the entire trip into the Hollis System, all we saw on the screens were news reports and discussions about the incident. One officer in the Tuf Space Patrol said it was time for war, since a vessel of humankind had been unnecessarily provoked and had been forced to defend herself. A historian said he was anxious to study this new race, to see if we had finally discovered the race that had chased us off our planet of origin. A Trayak politician from New Earth scoffed at this in his strange rendition of Galactic Standard.

  "The human race has complaining been for almost 500 years that they chased away from Terra I were," he said. "First, accused my people they did, saying criminals were we. We them fought for 90 years, thinking they were the ones who attacked us had. After this misunderstanding, termed popularly 'The War of the Deadly Misunderstanding,' was resolved, should we not now wait before conclusions we jump to? Why permit another race indignities to suffer, without first researching, and collection more information?"

  An official from the Colonial Commission cautioned all viewers not to get too excited. "This new system is a long way from here," he said. "The crew of the McRay was in the business of cataloguing worlds for distant future use. Humans will not colonize many of the suitable planets found by the McRay and her sister scout ships for centuries or more. All of these star systems are hundreds of light years from the nearest human world. There is no cause for alarm."

  I wasn't too worried about the war that people said was coming. I knew, of course, that our militaries were mostly untested in real conflict, and that some race - possibly the Sleebbs - had devastated our race once before. We had only recently passed the 10 billion-mark, which was barely more than the amount of humans that had been alive before the Exodus from Terra. But, for some reason, that warlike race had not returned to our area of space. Some historians and military "experts" said it was because they had expended their entire fleet of warships when they attacked the first time. Besides, I knew that the human race had already survived that worst possible scenario, and I figured we would survive the next one.

  It seems like every so often a new problem arises, and weeds out a large portion of humanity. The Great Flood had come, according to Destiny's Bible. Then the Ice Ages, according to science. A few centuries before humankind left Terra, there was a horrible plague that swept that world, killing millions. Composed of malaria, smallpox, yellow fever, the bubonic plague, and others, the Plague had devastated humankind, leaving scars on our history. Each time, thousands or millions died, leaving the human race smaller and more fit for the next struggle.

  It was similar to a computer game I played once, at an arcade in Tarkin. I had to play through the first levels, avoiding unknown pitfalls and enemies, while learning how to use the controls. If I survived that first level, I went on to the next, harder level. Each level allows the player to gain new weapons, supplies and skills that will help him in the next level.

  If a war with the Sleebb peoples was the next "level" for the human race, then I guessed we were ready. Many of us might die, and some of our cities might get destroyed, but we would live on, and make something better of ourselves.

  *

  That fall (2515 GS), I entered the 11th grade, and kept a part-time job at Mike's Supermarket. Destiny kept her job with New Planet, and went back to school, taking Advanced Self-Defense and Fighting Tactics, along with several business classes, working toward her degree. Mr. Dester returned to the asteroid belt, just in time to take credit for a new lode of important minerals. Harry traveled from cit
y to city, meeting with town leaders in Batesville, Helmston, Babcock, and the new town of Midway. He took me with him on one weekend trip to Basplace, the new home of the Cyr Corporation's Headquarters.

  At Basplace, the professionalism and the symmetry of everything there impressed me. Every building was shaped differently, but they all fit the city plan perfectly. The farms were marked off in perfect squares, the grass trimmed very short, the guard fences brand new, very high, and walked constantly by very lethal-looking guards. While I was touring - under guard - Harry met with Michael Hubbard Cyr, who was easily the richest human alive.

  I was shown a luxury factory where the most expensive Cyr cars were built - the limousines, the armored cars, the government official transport vehicles (GOTVs).

  They say that the Cyr Corporation was begun by one man, a distant ancestor of Michael Hubbard Cyr. Legend (and some history) says that the same man who started the Cyr Corporation had once been heroic fighter pilot for the Federation Military Service, back during the Ninety-Year War, when we were fighting the Trayaks and Grangers.

  I was impressed by the richness of the place, and determined to someday rival Cyr in wealth.

  Over winter break, Destiny and I robbed the only bank in Helmston, and the tiny Savings & Loan in Babcock, the total from both banks netting less than 200,000nd. We wore masks, gloves, and used our dart gun very effectively.

  Harry set up a special police task force to investigate the continued bank robberies. Chief Donovan was asked to head up the task force, and rewards were offered to anyone who could help out significantly. Quite a few people came forward, giving their accounts of the robberies, but the stories were all so different that no conclusive evidence could be drawn from it all.

  In the spring of 2516, I turned sixteen, and was given another raise at Mike's Supermarket. Destiny turned nineteen shortly thereafter, and stayed on with New Planet Spacelines. Jeff Dester sold the remaining half of his farm, and joined Allen and their father in the asteroid belt. Norman got a part-time job working in the Tarkin office for his dad's company. He cleaned the bathroom, mopped the floors, emptied the trash, cleaned the parking lot, etc., but his father signed his paychecks, and as soon as he was eighteen, he planned on going into space.

  Mr. Dester's company, along with four other brand new mining companies, began to plan a new space city in the asteroid belt, so the families of the mining crews could live nearby. Mr. Dester hired a well-known architectural firm from the older worlds to design the station. He said he wanted the design to be similar to that of Nubase, in Tuf orbit, since that city had been built for expansion. He didn't want a space city that would soon become overcrowded and dirty, but rather one onto which new additions could be built. Nubase was comprised of a central sphere, with transport tubes running outward from it, linking it to expansion living spheres. New globular stations could in turn be added, in an outward-growing group of massive metal balls.

  *

  "Married? Married? What have you been snorting?" Destiny looked at me across the table of our new favorite restaurant, Millicent's Diner. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about what we've been doing?"

  "No! No, Destiny. I don't think I've ever felt guilty about anything I've done, except hit that poor guard and his boss over the heads with that pipe. I just thought that's what you might be thinking, and, well, I thought I would put it into words for you, now that I'm old enough." I sipped from my dazzlewater.

  "Oh." She grinned. "I was worried that you were saying 'we've got to get married, or it's over.' Since you put it that way, maybe I understand. We've been together for two whole years, except for that little Donovan thing-" we both grimaced "-and it's all been great. I can't imagine another guy being better for me than you, Philipp, even if you are a little dense sometimes." She caressed my hand on the tabletop.

  "Ahh! True love!" We both jerked upright, only to find our waiter standing there, holding the check. "How wonderful," he went on, "to see two young lovebirds making eyes at each other across the table of a romantic diner. So, which one of you gets the check?"

  I took the check, paid him, and waited while Destiny tipped him the full amount of the check, and then watched him walk away. This big-tipping policy was making us quite popular at some of the restaurants and theaters around town, although we didn't go out a whole lot. When we did walk in, though, we got quick and friendly service from the staff. It's amazing how much better waiters will treat their patrons, if they're being paid well for it.

  Destiny returned to our subject of conversation. "Philipp, if you want to get married, then wait until I'm done with college, and you've turned eighteen. At that point, if you still think that's the right thing to do, I'll do it. And I'll stay with you until we die. I just think it's unnecessary; I know you love me, and you know I love you. I mean, I've never even seen you look at another girl. We've been together since you were a skinny orphan and I was still developing breasts."

  "And develop is certainly what you've done, girlfriend."

  She ran a hand slowly down the curved front of her blouse, and winked at me. "I'm not the only one, Philipp. Look at you. It's too bad they don't have rugby on Persiphone yet. Or football. You'd be great. I'll always feel safe with your strong arms around me."

  That reminded me of something she had been nagging me about. "Speaking of my strong arms, you keep saying I need to take that fighting class you're in. Do you really think I need to?"

  "Yes. Philipp, almost everyone in the class is female, but I'll bet every single one could take you down before you landed a punch."

  "Why would I want to punch a girl?"

  "That's beside the point, Philipp. Remember what Billy did to me?" I saw the fire in her eyes, and nodded. "It can never happen again, Philipp. I'm ready now. In a hand-to-hand fight, I can lick just about everyone I know, except my teacher, and maybe one other girl in my class. But if someone of your size and strength knew what I know, you'd be indestructible. Just think about it."

  "You really think anyone of those girls could take me down?"

  "You wanna try?"

  *

  I lay on my face, gasping, about ten feet from Lt. Col. Jason Quivers, retired. Rolling over onto my back, I looked up at him. "That's pretty neat. Show me again."

  "Are you sure, Phil?" The soft-spoken Quivers gave me a hand, pulling me to my feet. "That didn't hurt?"

  "It hurt, sir. My father used to say, 'no pain, no gain.' I reckon I've found that to be true. If it doesn't hurt a little, then I haven't learned anything." I swung at him again, this time feinting first with one hand, then power-driving with the other. When I regained my equilibrium, I noticed that I was lying on my face, gasping, about ten feet from Quivers.

  "Okay. I'll sign up."

  *

  School ended soon after that interview and I went back to full-time at Mike's, mostly in the afternoons and evenings, so I could take the summer classes taught by Colonel Quivers. Destiny took the classes with me, as did about ten other girls, all of them repeat students.

  Quivers told us stories about his time as an infantryman in the Yurple Militia, and later when he was an instructor. He told us stories about bars, and nightclubs, and dark allies, and all kinds of improbable situations. But the stories began to sound increasingly true as the class went on.

  I sparred with Destiny (both of us wearing pads and helmets). I sparred with the other girls, and with Quivers. I spent more time on the floor and nursing my wounds than anyone.

  And Quivers claimed to be going easy on me.

  I remember the first time I actually landed a punch on him. There was the loud Thump of my fist slamming into his head, and a sharp gasp from the girls in the room. Colonel Quivers rolled backward and landed on his feet, facing me, with his guard up.

  "All right," he said, without even breathing heavily, "I guess it's time to get tough on you." And he did. It was another three weeks before I hit him again. That time he was out cold. From then on, I never hit him again. It wasn'
t because I didn't try to; he never let me. I fell more times in the remaining two weeks of summer than I had in the whole time I was learning to walk as an infant. I landed on my rump, on my head, on my back, on my chest, on chairs, on other people. And I started to learn how to fall as Quivers did, rolling back to my feet.

  After that time I knocked him out cold, he wouldn't let me spar with the girls anymore, although Destiny and I would sometimes play at it in our spare time. Usually, we just practiced holds and throws, but every now and then we really got into it. One time, she landed a nice shiner on me, and I fell to my back, feeling for blood or broken bones. She landed on top of me, kissing my face, and holding me.