Jet Black - Gold #13

by John Stevenson

the drums contained a substance other than gold.”

  “Benedicts gold. I did not steal his or anyone’s gold; if it wasn’t there it never was.”

  “Charges relating to any missing gold will probably be laid later, but at this time we are not investigating the disappearance of the gold; what we are concerned with is what you replaced it with?”

  Now she was scared. “Then what are you accusing me of?”

  “The containers that you delivered and signed for contained Aqua Regia. Shortly after the bullion was deposited the drums you delivered as gold slurry explosively vented this substance, it saturated a section of the bullion area, at the same time the whole vault filled with sufficient chlorine gas to activate the sprinkler system saturating the bullion and reacting with the Aqua Regia. This is what you are being accused of.”

  “I did not do that.” She said firmly.

  “You will have you chance to explain but I should warn you that as far as our department is concerned we have all the evidence we need to convict you of an offence that carries a life sentence in a penal colony.”

  Rosie went incredibly cold; she could barely breathe never mind speak. “For saturating a few gold bars?”

  “The solution and atmosphere produced, has corroded the gold and rendered it soluble. In you act of terrorism you have destroyed a significant percentage of the Federations Strategic Financial Reserve.”

 

  Jet landed on the space station unaware of what had happened in his absence. His forced stay had not been as long as it could have been after the cargo master has scavenged a few components and built a serviceable thirty-nine P circuit.

  His ignorance of past events filled quickly when he met up with Chub and Mad Jack.

  “I don’t know any more Jet; the Feds are not happy about what’s happened are have closed all the usual information links” said Chub. “Indigo maybe does, but the Silver Flyer has been confiscated as evidence, and Rosie is locked up on the warship: and Jet if your thinking of going over there to see her forget it. Nobody knows where you have been; the militia thinks she met up with you to swap the gold for the acid. The only reason you’re not in a cell with her is because they just don’t have any evidence yet that will stick.”

  Indigo did know a little more. “I’m sorry Jet, but they have a strong case of terrorism against her. She’s way beyond mine; or anybodies help. There’s nothing that be done for her”

  Jet was devastated, there seemed nothing he could do: as the hours wore on and he sank into a state of depression something occurred to him. The one thing he knew for certain was that he knew nothing, everything he he’d been told had been assumption or hearsay. There was not as single fact he could rely on other than he knew she didn’t do it. He needed some facts but the only place he could get anything was on the warship…or?”

  When Jet got back to the Galaxy Layby a stranger was waiting.

  Are you Jet Black?”

  Jet looked at him suspiciously; he didn’t look like he was here to arrest him, but he had to careful. “Yea.”

  “I’m James Cooper, I’m a friend of Rosanna; I’d like to help?”

  “Then you’re in a minority, most people tell me she’s beyond help.”

  “I don’t believe that.” James hesitated. “Look before you find out you should know I work for Mr. Benedict.”

  “You tell me that and expect me to trust you?”

  “The truth is you cant trust me, or for that matter; anybody, but neither you cant you refuse my help; at least if you want to get Rosanna out of jail.”

  “And how do you intend to achieve that?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I was the one who worked out the itinerary; and the route I gave her didn’t include picking up those three tubs.”

  “Then why was she there?”

  “I was hoping you could answer that?”

  “Well you were wrong.”

  “Then maybe the answer is on the mainframe of the Silver Flyer?”

  Jet nodded, it couldn’t tell why, but the data logger could tell when and how. “How do you intend to achieve that?”

  “That’s why I’ve come to see you; you have the only Galactic Militia ship that I can use.”

  “Your suggesting we rock up and say hello?”

  “Pretty much; there’s no gold around so they won’t be looking for trouble, and the Layby is a stop off point for any spacecraft, including militia ships.”

  Jet liked the idea, “And I think I know where we can get a couple of uniforms.”

  It felt strange wearing the uniform again; Indigo had a number of various types: apparently they were for fancy dress occasions, but Indigo hadn’t sounded convincing on that; but approaching the flyer in an ex-galactic militia spacecraft worked, and they docked with the Flyer without any trouble

  The guard seemed bored and was happy to chat. James did the best he could to put the man off with easy banter as Jet made the excuse to visit the rest room, instead he doubled back to the systems cabin and called up the flight plan

  “I looks like she entered the information immediately prior to her departure?” James was puzzled. “That was never part of the contract, I can’t imagine what reason she would have?”

  “That’s not good.” Muttered Chub. “The Fed’s would have needed to know of any last moment alteration. If she altered without good cause that can only point to guilt?

  Jet was at a complete loss, but he still wasn’t prepared to believe she was guilty. “We can’t start questioning her motives without hearing her side.”

  Chub was quick to show his loyalty. “I know Jet but the whole thing revolves around why did she go there; if we don’t know that how can we prove anything?”

  A thought came to James. “Looking at it from another angle; why did they accept something that wasn’t on the itinerary?”

  “They wouldn’t.” muttered Jet. “Those drums must have been on the itinerary or they wouldn’t have been unloaded.”

  James shook his head. “But they weren’t; I arranged the documentation myself before I handed it to… Mr. Benedict?”

  Chub had added little to the conversation but now he spoke. “Both can be right.”

  They looked at him.

  “You don’t have much to day laid up in a bed, so I listened into the chatter on the web.” He gave a sly grin. “ Not your usual web you understand?”

  They did.

  “Talk was someone was planning a heist, a big heist.” Chub had their attention. “There was no saying why, but they needed a hacker?”

  “That’s got to be.” James was smiling. “Somebody changed the…”

  “Before you guys get too excited,” Chub spoke again. “Were trying to get Rosie out but it was an anonymous request: it could have been Rosie herself, at least that’s what the Feds will claim, and there’s no way of finding out for sure?”

  The brief feeling of relief died.

  Jet tried to sound positive “Whether it was Rosie or someone else there’s more to it than that, so it’s a staring point, and I think where she picked up those drums is where we need to start as well?”

  In a storeroom close to the landing area were a number of containers bearing warning signs and labeled Aqua Regia. There were also empty tanks of Chlorine: explosive wrappers, and sleds that appeared newer than the other equipment. But almost everything they saw was what could be found on any mining site. Checking the tags everything had one or another Benedicts subsidiary identification; but the mining camps were awash with pilfering so they could probably never pin any article down.

  “Over here guys.”

  Jet followed Chubs somber voice to what once was the canteen. Sprawled on the floor were three bodies. They had been shot in the face and were unrecognizable. Checking the bodies there was no identification.

  “I think we can assume these were the men that gave Rosie the drums?” said James.

  “Rosie claims there were four, so there’s another somewhere.” Chub reminde
d them.

  It took them only a short time to confirm that other than the three corpses the asteroid had been abandoned for some time.

  “So where is he?” Jet thought aloud.

  “Anywhere Jet,” James said helpfully. “I’ll tell you one thing though, he’s a professional.”

  Jet looked at him curiously.

  “The entry wounds are all in the same place; right where the recognizable facial features are.”

  Jet looked at him as James knelt beside one. “Your saying they are known?”

  “Almost certainly to some criminal organization, and possibly the militia?”

  “I can find that out,” said Chub. “Assuming they’re from this section of the galaxy?”

  “I believe so, whoever the fourth is he thought they could be identified other wise why take the trouble to shoot how he has: and…” James turned the mans hand towards them. “Their finger prints have been burnt off. Professional or not, I doubt if he would waste time doing things like he has if he was confident nobody would know them.” Suddenly James stood and went to another of the bodies. “We could be in luck; here Jet open his eyelid for me.”

  Jet looked down at the bloody mess; he reached his finger down and reluctantly pulled the flap of flesh up.

  “Ah… we are in luck; see here this one must have tried to turn away; half his eye is still intact… Hold it steady Jet?”

  James pulled out a small camera and placed it close to the open eyeball.”

  “Where did you get that?” said Chub suspiciously.

  “Oh this is just something I picked up.”

  “No it isn’t.” said Chub challengingly. “I’ve