An Airless Storm: Cochrane's Company: Book Two

by Peter Grant

  Frank studied it. “There are no inhabited planets marked within it – the nearest is about twenty light years outside the sphere. I make it fifteen… no, sixteen deserted star systems inside that circle.”

  “Actually, sir, there are seventeen. One’s a minor system, hidden from this angle behind a larger one.”

  “All right.” He heaved a sigh. “Like I said, this gives us something concrete for the first time. I’ll report this to Commodore Cochrane. Well done, and thank you.”

  As Frank headed for his office to write his report, he couldn’t help thinking that the Albanians might have brought nemesis upon themselves. They’d virtually shanghaied the Kedan spacers into their service, without their consent or understanding. They’d treated them almost like slaves. Now, those ‘slaves’ might have contributed to the undoing of their hated and resented ‘masters’.

  He grinned to himself. There was something very fitting about that.

  21

  Conference

  BINTULU

  As soon as the communications vessel had made its arrival signal to Bintulu System Control, Chen sent another, encrypted signal to the Qianjin embassy on the planet. “I’ve asked them to clear our path through Customs and Immigration,” he explained to Caitlin Ross as the ship arrowed toward the planet. “That’ll avoid unnecessary delays.”

  She frowned. “You’ve been very mysterious about Bintulu all the way here. Isn’t it time you told me what’s going on?”

  “I suppose it is, but please remember what I said to the Commodore when he approved your coming with me. This is all confidential. A lot of it’s an open secret, but we still don’t talk about it, because having undue attention drawn to it would be… awkward… for all sorts of people and organizations.”

  “I’ll be the soul of discretion.”

  “Thank you. I suppose I should begin at the beginning. Do you know where the name Bintulu comes from?”

  “I can’t say I do.”

  “It was a town in the Malayan state of Sarawak on Old Home Earth.”

  “Sarawak? Oh, yes!” She couldn’t help a giggle. “I remember, as a teenager, reading a blood-curdling romance about it – a swooning virgin kidnapped by swarthy pirates, then rescued by a heroic heavily-muscled figure full of dash and derring-do. She married him, and they founded a dynasty together. It was called ‘The White Rajah of Sarawak’, and claimed to be the ‘true story’ of someone named James Brooke.”

  “I’m impressed! You’re better informed than I thought. There really was a James Brooke, and he was the first so-called ‘White Rajah’. It’s also true that Sarawak, his fiefdom, was infested with pirates. They only gave up that way of life when he threatened to exterminate them unless they did. He had to make brutal examples of a few villages before they learned he wasn’t joking. He never married, so that romance you remember didn’t get everything right, but he was a very impressive man, by all accounts.

  “When the Scramble for Space started, some businessmen from Sarawak could read the signs of the times. They leveraged their hydrocarbon revenues to buy a prospector ship, and sent some of their sons away to look for a planet where they could settle. They knew Old Home Earth was in a downward spiral, and didn’t expect things to improve anytime soon. They were right, of course. The ship found this planet, and claimed it. Over the next century or so, the families of the discoverers moved here. They named it for the city most of them came from.

  “It’s said that a lot of their early revenues, before they got a local economy going, came from space piracy. That’s not unlikely, given their ancestry, but it’s hotly denied by the present government, and it’s very politically incorrect to mention it. In due course, Bintulu adopted a strict policy that no outside criminal activity would be tolerated within its system. They wanted to avoid reprisals from the victims of piracy elsewhere, by claiming that no such crimes had ever been committed here. They developed a pretty strong System Patrol Service to make sure their new enthusiasm for law and order took hold. Some outsiders didn’t want to listen, so they were used as examples to show others what happened to idiots like that.”

  “If the place was settled by pirates, and they had the example of the White Rajah to inspire them, I imagine the punishments were vivid enough to drive home that point.”

  “Very much so. I understand one crew was literally made to ‘walk the plank’ out of an airlock of their spaceship, into vacuum, without benefit of spacesuits. It was filmed and broadcast.”

  “Doesn’t sound like entertainment to me.”

  “I daresay it didn’t to the guests of honor, either. Anyway, over time, Bintulu’s role expanded. It’s now considered neutral ground and a ‘safe haven’ by every major criminal organization. They come here to relax, hold discussions, or do legitimate business, but never to plan or commit crimes. The punishment for that is still extreme, and there are no exceptions, no matter who’s involved. All the Big Three have ‘embassies’ here, to liaise with each other. Several smaller groups do the same. It’s a clearing-house for information for all of us.”

  “A sort of criminal United Planets?”

  “I suppose you could call it that. Interplanetary arrest warrants aren’t honored here, so unless you commit a crime locally, you won’t be detained or extradited. The reverse of that coin is that Bintulu has ‘arrangements’ with people like us. If someone offends here and tries to flee off-planet, he’ll be found and brought back, dead or alive. It tends to keep everyone on the straight and narrow.

  “Because of that freedom from arrest, the Bintulu system’s become a center for the transshipment of cargoes. The planetary government leased out to local merchants the entire orbitals of the fourth planet from this star. It’s airless, and not needed for anything better. Anything that goes on there is legally the responsibility of the leaseholders, not Bintulu itself, and planetary police don’t operate there. The merchants built vast orbital warehouses and freight handling facilities. They accept cargoes from incoming ships, and trade them for goods already here. No-one asks any questions, meaning that stolen goods might wind up hundreds of light years from where they came. That makes them almost completely untraceable.”

  Caitlin frowned. “But surely, if you know all this, so does interplanetary law enforcement? Why don’t they come looking for stolen goods here? Why doesn’t the United Planets just shut the place down?”

  “You don’t get it. Bintulu is as useful to law enforcement as it is to criminals. For a start, you can’t take action without evidence. It takes time for news of a crime to circulate to other planets. Until that happens, who’s to say that certain goods in transit through the Bintulu system were stolen? By the time word reaches here, the goods will be long gone, so where’s your evidence? Also, it’s become common to list stolen items of importance on a local network, offering a reward for their return. Sometimes, the reward is higher than the thieves could make by shipping it elsewhere, or high enough to bring it back from wherever it went. In such cases, private arrangements are made. It’s all very discreet.

  “What’s more, a lot of law enforcement agencies from all over the settled galaxy have offices here, keeping their fingers on the pulse, so to speak, to try to figure out what big-time criminals are doing. The local authorities don’t mind, as long as no-one makes trouble of any sort. It’s a kind of unofficial truce, and oddly civilized.”

  “How do those merchants make their money, if they aren’t selling goods of their own?”

  “They charge premium rates for the use of their orbital facilities, and a percentage on the value of exchanged goods. Bintulu takes ten percent off the top in taxation. That doesn’t sound high, but when you consider the volume and value of goods passing through this system, it adds up to a very nice sum. On top of asteroid mining fees, customs tariffs and business levies, it brings in enough that the planet doesn’t need income or consumption taxes.”

  Caitlin grinned. “Sounds like a good place to live.”

  “They probab
ly wouldn’t let you in. They’re very restrictive about immigration, although tourists are always welcome. If you have enough money to buy a protective residence permit, and promise to behave, they’ll make an exception, of course.

  “Anyway, let’s get back to business. The Qianjin Embassy will notify the authorities that we’re above board, so we won’t be delayed during arrival formalities. When we get planetside, I’ll ask the Embassy to set up a three-way meeting with the embassies of the Cosa Nostra and Nuevo Cartel, so you can make your presentation. There may be proposals for action following your briefing, or everything may be referred to higher authority. I daresay there’ll be follow-up meetings in due course, if everyone thinks it’s appropriate.”

  “I suppose I won’t be involved in those.”

  “You never know. Hawkwood’s impressed us with its capabilities. If the others feel the same way, they might want you to remain involved. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Kampung, Bintulu’s capital city, was divided by the Batang River. Its two halves were a study in contrasts. West Kampung was a fairly standard medium-size city, with a spaceport, a built-up business district, a smaller entertainment and shopping area, and several residential suburbs. East Kampung was another matter. It was centered around a thriving entertainment hub, with hotels, casinos, nightclubs, theaters, restaurants and other diversions. On the hillside above were several imposing buildings housing embassies and consulates, spreading out to residential suburbs with luxurious homes set in spacious grounds, heavily patrolled by a private police force.

  “That’s the area for visitors,” Chen pointed out as they flew over it in the shuttle bringing them down from the orbiting space station. “East Kampung is basically set aside for them. Regular planetary laws and rules are relaxed there. If you’ve come for a good time, that’s where you’ll find it. West Kampung is for the locals, although many of them go across the river to have a good time. It’s the seat of government, too.”

  “And the houses in East Kampung?”

  “They’re for people who choose to settle here, for health or other reasons. If you’ve been in a line of work where rivalries tend to be settled in blood, it can be difficult to simply retire in peace and quiet. Also, there are takeovers and mergers, just like in the business world, but they tend to be rather more aggressive. If someone comes out on the losing end, or wants to drop out of a criminal lifestyle for whatever reason, they can move here. They’ve got to have money, of course; a protective resident permit costs millions, and those houses and estates aren’t cheap, and the security provided for them costs a lot. On the other hand, nobody’s going to bother them here, because – well, this is Bintulu.”

  “I see. Surely they must get bored, though?”

  “Perhaps, but at least they’re still alive. A lot of them begin more regular careers here, investing in the entertainment industry, or helping their children to make a fresh start, here or off-planet. It may not be safe for those born off-planet to leave here, but their offspring usually can, provided they stay on the straight and narrow. Their parents’ enemies will still be out there, ready to deal with the second or third generation if it tries to take after the first.”

  The Qianjin Embassy accommodated them in a guest house in its grounds, luxuriously furnished and equipped. The envoy who collected them from the spaceport explained that the meeting they’d requested had already been set up for the following morning. “We’ll use a room in the East Kampung Conference Center,” she explained. “It’s the usual procedure. Security is good there, and the place is swept for listening devices every week.”

  The conference center proved to be a modern, well-equipped building with very heavy security. Guards patrolled the grounds, a security desk denied entry to all but authorized persons, and a counter in the central lobby on each floor further ensured privacy and confidentiality. They were shown to a room on the third level, where a central table was flanked by eight chairs. Audio-visual equipment was provided for presentations, and Caitlin set up her personal data system while they waited for the other delegates to arrive.

  Augustu Cravotta represented the Cosa Nostra. He was a short, rotund, florid man, with sharp, bright eyes that never stopped flickering from person to person. He was accompanied by an aide who was not introduced, but sat behind his chair, recording the discussion. The Nuevo Cartel emissary, Hernando Torres, was tall and thin, almost cadaverous, his sunken cheeks and pitch-black eyes seeming to pierce right through whomever he was looking at. Caitlin was sure he was wearing dark contact lenses to disguise his true eye color. His aide, a buxom young woman, also was not introduced.

  As soon as everyone was seated and brief introductions of the principals had been made, Chen got proceedings under way. “Thank you for attending this meeting. We asked for it in order to tell you of an interplanetary problem that has affected the Dragon Tong, and which we know is affecting your organizations as well. Commander Caitlin Ross represents a company, Hawkwood Security, that has spearheaded the investigation of and fight against a breakaway faction of the Albanian Mafia, an offshoot of the Bregija Clan calling itself the Albanian Brotherhood. They’re stealing asteroids to fund a particular project. I’ll let her outline what’s been going on.”

  Caitlin took almost an hour to explain the sequence of events that had led Hawkwood into conflict with the Brotherhood, her investigations, and what they now knew about their enemy. At each stage, she used photographs, records and other evidence to substantiate her claims.

  “All of the Big Three are losing money to the Brotherhood, through their targeting of your resources,” she finished. “The Dragon Tong suggested to us that we should brief the Cosa Nostra and the Nuevo Cartel as well, so that all three organizations can consider the problem and discuss potential solutions. That’s why I came here. I’m grateful to you for listening. I’ll try to answer any questions you may have.”

  There weren’t many questions, to her surprise. The most important one had been anticipated. Cravotta asked, “You say this Albanian Brotherhood is stealing from us, too. I have no knowledge of that, or evidence for it. Can you prove it?”

  In answer, Caitlin reached for one of two boxes she’d placed on a sideboard, and handed it to him. “This piece of asteroid, veined with precious metals, came from a mining operation in the Riesi system, in which your organization has a major interest. If you’ll have it analyzed, its chemical composition will provide evidence of its origins. It came from a Brotherhood spaceship.” She reached for the other box, and set it down before Hernando Torres. “This contains a piece of asteroid from the Janos system, in which your cartel has an interest. Analysis will prove that. It was obtained from a similar source.”

  “What source? How did you get your hands on one – no, presumably two – of their ships?” the Nuevo Cartel man demanded.

  “We destroyed one in the Mycenae system, and searched its wreckage. The other was intercepted elsewhere.” The Dragon Tong had obtained the second specimen, rather than Hawkwood, but she and Chen had agreed that their audience didn’t need to know that.

  Chen added, “We know for certain, from discussions with imprisoned Brotherhood members and other sources, that they’ve cleared over a hundred billion Neue Helvetica francs from their asteroid theft operations in just the last five to six years. They’re doing this on an industrial scale. They’re accumulating funds to buy a planet for themselves. They think that’ll be the key to becoming as large and as influential as our organizations.”

  The other two envoys snorted disdainfully. “Lizards boast they are descended from dinosaurs,” Torres sniffed. “Nevertheless, once a lizard, always a lizard – and this breakaway offshoot is a very small lizard.”

  “At present, yes,” Chen agreed. “However, what if it grows to be a large one? And what about the money they are stealing from us? We operate on a very large scale, more so than the economies of most planets, but even so, a hundred billion is a very substantial sum. If one group gets away with ste
aling that much, particularly from us, more will be encouraged to try their luck. It is our opinion that this should be nipped in the bud, and an example made of all concerned, to prevent that.”

  “A very good point,” the other conceded.

  “You say they are based on Patos?” Cravotta asked.

  “Ah… not exactly,” Caitlin demurred. “That seems to be where they live, and from where they plan and control their operations. They also have a fleet of ships, some armed, some merchant vessels, including a refinery ship. Those are based elsewhere, probably in a deserted star system. We’re looking for their base right now.”

  “So there will be two prongs to this; dealing with their ships, and dealing with their people. I presume you plan to handle the first?”

  “We’re considering what we can do. It will depend on a number of things, including the size and scope of their defenses, the number of vessels involved, and whether we have sufficient ships and weapons of our own to take them down. They’ve hurt us badly, but we think we’ve hurt them even more. I can’t speak for our boss, but I’m sure he’ll act if he sees a way that offers a reasonable chance of success. However, we almost certainly won’t be able to do anything about the Brotherhood on Patos. That’s a sovereign planet, after all, and we’re just a space security company.”

  “What support does Hawkwood expect from our organizations?” Torres asked.

  “So far, we’ve paid for all our operations out of our revenues from the Mycenae system and elsewhere. Our expenses have been very high, with tens of billions of francs already spent and committed for future warship purchases and operations. If your organizations can help defray some of that, in cash or in kind, I’m sure my boss would be grateful. On the other hand, that’s not the primary reason I’m here. I came because Mr. Chen and his organization invited me to brief you on the size and scope of the problem. If your organizations plan any sort of joint response, I guess that’s up to you, but I don’t know whether or not we’ll have any role in that.”