close back there. Your going to wait until you get a total clean bill of health.”
“Yes madam.” Now he saluted her.
“I mean it Chub; look the contract is easy a couple of pick ups and then Kepha-Prime.”
“It’s a Federation job?”
“I even get a Galaxy Militia escort.”
His eyes opened wide. “What the heck are you going to be carrying?”
It wasn’t just because of Chubs friends: people like Franki; when it came to it she didn’t want to mention Benedict. “Ah. Ah. No work, no details; your on sick leave, you just lay here and watch movies and let all the pretty little nurse’s look after you.” She needed to change the subject before he asked any other question she didn’t want to answer. “So what have they told you?”
The knock on the door was hesitant, embarrassed even. Rosie opened it to face James; she smiled. “Back so soon?”
He returned the smile, “I never wanted to leave.” They looked at each other for a few moments. “Thanks for last night,” he said. “I had a wonderful time.”
“Me too,” she replied.
James pulled his hand from behind his back and handed her a bunch of Roses. “I hope you don’t mind; I know it’s a bit childish but Roses for a Rose.”
She didn’t mind at all.
The next knock was untidy, more a dragging of knuckles than a rapping. The smile faded as she saw Mad Jack.
“Jack…”
“Jet said to let you know the Flyer is ready to go. Some of them rocks made a big mess. It’s not finished; too much to do without the right gear. Your gunna have to get it somewhere for a complete refurbishment.”
Rosie felt anxious. “It’s safe is it?’
“No problem with flying, just don’t give it too much stick; there’s spots that are not as transitional as they were. You could get differential heating in the skin; that’s not good.”
“No, I shouldn’t imagine it is.”
“Well then that’s it, I’ve done all I can with what I’ve got so I’m gunna take some R and R. Jet’ll know where, when he’s ready.”
“Okay; I’ll tell him when he gets back.”
“Good, well se ya then.”
The third knock was commanding; opening the door it was Benedict. He looked over her shoulder into the room, but Rosie held her ground.
“Do you mind if I come in, doing business at the door is for necktie salesmen.”
Rosie reluctantly stepped aside.
“Jet’s not here?”
She got the feeling he hadn’t expected him to be. “He’ll be back any minute,” she lied.
“I don’t have a lot of time so I’ll tell you the details?”
“Okay.”
“Three pick ups of Ingots; the coordinates and times of all are in the documents folder, as is the itinerary, and manifest. All the identifications to get the bars and to contact the warship: if that becomes necessary, plus passwords as required are also there. We’ve done this before so the procedure shouldn’t throw up any odd balls.”
“That sounds fine.”
“It’s my tax contribution to the Federation.”
“Sorry?”
“In case you’re curious, it’s the method of payment to the authorities for all of my operations.”
“That’s really none of our business, we just make the transfer.”
“Quite: I have to warn you my dear that you shouldn’t try to deviate from any of the instructions, or do anything that may confuse the warship. Due to the nature of the cargo you will be carrying they will not only have weapons at the ready to protect you, but also to disable you if they see any variation from what they expect. That’s nothing personal but this gold is destined for the federation treasury, and the warship is there to ensure that no one, including you if you were so foolish, can take the gold. If they have the slightest suspicion that you are about to flee; they will shoot without hesitation.”
“Then I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“It’s procedure that once you leave here there are no communications from you or the ship.”
“What about the warship; won’t it need the Identification?’
“Some do some don’t wait until the warship asks; we don’t like communications of any sort as they can disclose your location. As a bullion transfer everything is kept secret but sometime things leak out, you understand?”
“I have told no one and I don’t intend to tell anyone.”
“Good well I must go… Oh occasionally there is an amendment or alteration; I’ll be there when you leave and tell you if that’s the case.”
Rosie was in the ready room at the spaceport; she was reading a novel on the tablet to calm her nerves. It felt strange flying a complete delivery alone: but waiting for Benedict was more unnerving; probably even more than carrying the cargo she would have in the hold, after all she had a whole warship to herself; what possibly could go wrong?
Benedict came in. “There’s been an additional pick up, it’s three tubs of gold dust slurry. Give me your tablet and upload the details.”
She looked down at the asteroid; it was pockmarked with excavations over its whole surface and looked strangely forlorn. She could see no activity, but that wasn’t unusual, often work continued beneath while the surface looked deserted. There was no sign of life in the mining camp either, and feeling a little unsure she settled the starship down. There had been no sign of the Galactic Militia warship she had been told would accompany her, but she didn’t have time to dwell as a man was walking over the apron towards the ship. Behind him were three others, each maneuvering carriage sleds with large drums strapped to them.
The man handed her a tablet, and as each man came up to them he checked the seal and read out the code. Each time Rosie checked the number and initialed her acceptance. By the time she followed them into the Flyers hold they were already securing them to the bulkheads.
The four men turned and left without another word. Rosie was stunned at the nonchalant way the transfer had been made. She had no idea how much each of the drums was worth but packed solid with a gold slurry that had to be many millions, yet there was no security, and the galactic militia hadn’t appeared.
She was nervous and began to wish that Jet and Chub were with her, but they weren’t and she had to keep going. Rosie headed for the next coordinate as fast as she could, fearful that every criminal in the Galaxy was waiting for her to pass by.
Her relief was immense as arriving at the next coordinate she saw the warship was stood off the planet waiting. An armed shuttle followed her down: hovering above as she loaded. Reassuringly this time there were militia everywhere, and triple the documentation.
The second and third pick-ups followed the same format and then they were on the way Kepha-Prime. They arrived and were met by an entire squad of militia ready to accompany the containers to the treasury; She didn’t follow; she was glad to see the gold go, and there were far too many men with guns for her liking, so she finished the formal handover and left.
Rosie arrived at the Galaxy Layby feeling pleased with herself. She called Chub to find out how he was and to give him a brief rundown on the trip; then for no good reason she visited emperor Karr-Alle-Ecjek’s temple.
She was greeted by one of the followers and welcomed Rosie went through to the museum and stood in front of the hand as she heard a monk come up behind her.
“Peace be with you daughter.” it was a woman a little older than her.
“And peace be with you mother.” She replied.
They stood in silence for a while until the woman spoke. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”
In another situation Rosie would have pointed out that they were looking at a severed and mummified hand, but she understood what the woman meant. Maybe it was the silence, or the dark drapes, or the smell of perfumed woods, whatever it was it was so calm and peaceful; so very therapeutic.
“I never fail to wonder what the relic is like when just a replica fil
ls me with so much faith.”
Rosie silently asked the emperors forgiveness for not telling the woman the truth.
Feeling at peace she went straight to the hotel and had only been there seconds when there was a knock at the door. She hoped it was James but whoever it was must have followed her u the elevator, and she hadn’t seen him. Instead it was several men, some of them in Galactic militia uniform. “Are you Ms. Rosanna Jane?”
For a moment she thought of Chub; or Jet, but it was illogical; if anything had happened a single caller would have come. They were here for her but why? “Who are you?”
“Captain Truelmann; Federal Investigations Bureau; can you tell me your name please?”
“I am Rosanna.”
“You are the pilot of the starship the Silver Flyer?”
“I am?”
“Would you get your things and accompany us to our ship.”
She was beginning to worry. “Whatever for?”
“We have some questions that need answers.”
“What about?”
“A delivery you have recently made.”
“Recently?”
“Very recently.”
“Then there isn’t a problem I have all the documents.”
“It is not about the delivery, but what you delivered.”
“Then you will have to see the owner not me.”
“It is our belief that you replaced the items you picked up; with others?”
“That’s ridiculous I had a warship…” But she hadn’t on the first leg. Suddenly she realized she had fallen into a trap.
“What are you saying; that there wasn’t gold in the drums?”
“Precisely, we believe that you knew
Jet Black - Gold #13 Page 3