The Bright Black Sea by C. Litka
Chapter 70 Old Ghosts
01
Ravin is a company planet like Zilantre, but younger and rougher around the edges, which is to say, as soon as you left the spaceport proper. It seemed to be always raining in Ravinport, its prime city and space port. When I asked why, I was told that it was merely the rainy season, which, it seems, is about eight months long out of a nine-month year. Which, at least, keeps intact my observation that, for some inexplicable reason, world founders always build their prime city in the most unpleasant region of their world.
I'd been down paying a brief visit to our agent, Xin VonBrey, finalizing the transactions on half a dozen inbound boxes we'd taken on board. Molaye could've done it, but I'd kept that strange message my secret and didn't want anyone going down unaware of whatever complications might arise from the sender of that message. So I did it myself and kept the visit short.
I'd made my way back to the spaceport and was waiting in the small, nearly deserted, terminal for a robot shuttle to turn up and take me out to the gig – it was raining and the gig was on the far end of the field.
'Cap'n Wilcrofter?' said a voice beside me.
Slipping my left hand into my jacket pocket to grasp my sissy, I turned to find a rather disreputable looking spaceer – a chief engineer by the look of him – with a large drooping mustache standing beside me, peering at me rather blearily.
I opened my mouth to reply, but found I couldn't think of a single thing to say. I just gaped and stared. He seemed solid enough. Couldn't see through him, in any event.
'Cap'n?' he said again, after a moment, giving me a puzzled look. The breeze of the approaching shuttle brought the faint whiff of whiskey off the spaceer.
'Is something amiss? Have I left half my breakfast on my mustache again?' he asked as I stared at him speechless. 'You look like you've seen a ghost.'
'I have,' I managed to croak. 'You!'
'Aye? Me. In person...'
'Glen Colin,' I croaked.
That startled him. 'Awk! My fame proceeds me!' he exclaimed, and watching me closely added, ‘Aye, that's me, Chief Engineer Glen Colin. How'd you do, Cap'n?' He offered his hand, which I took automatically. It was solid enough. 'We've crossed orbits, I gather, but I can't quite place where'
'You're... here. You can't be.'
He looked around puzzled. 'And why not?' he asked with a quizzical look.
'Because you're a ghost,' I blurted out.
He gave me a long measuring look. 'I fear one of us ain't strictly sober. And unfortunately, I am. So that leaves you. I envy you, but no fear, Cap'n I'm no ghost. Not that I know of. Must've been some other Glen Colin.'
'We've met. In the engine room of my ship. You were very much a ghost back then. Came and went in the middle of a passage. And not for the first time, I've been told.'
'Ah, well, Cap'n. I don't rightly recall that incident. Don't remember ever crossing orbits with'ya, truth be told. Seems hardly possible. I haven't been around much, though there's a lot of my long life I don't remember all that well,' he added with a sly smile under his mustache.
'In my engine room. The...' I almost blurted out Lost Star, but managed to change it to 'the Starry Shore. We talked. You suggested we reinforce the saddle of the engine we'd moved aft...'
'And when would this be, if you don't mind me asking.'
'Oh, some seven, eight years back,' I said, still trying to make sense of this. I knew I was strictly sober, and hopefully, sane.
He looked thoughtful for a bit and shrugged, 'Very curious. Yes, very curious indeed. I'd like to hear more about that, and well, you're looking rather pale and in need of a stiff drink, I'm thinking. I'm a mite thirsty myself. There's a snug lit'l port not far from the gate where you can tell me about our previous meeting. I'm curious, as to the circumstances of my supposed visit.'
I stood staring at him, trying to think clearly. He'd been helpful when we last met and seemed pretty harmless now. And I was pretty sure he wasn't a ghost this time. 'I'm curious too. And I could use a drink, now that you mention it,' I said slowly. 'Lead on.'
We returned to the gate and dashed across the wide boulevard to a conveniently close dive on the far side without getting too damp. I ordered a rum, he two whiskeys at the bar and we made our way to a table in the deep shadows of the long, low, and largely empty taproom.
He took a long sip of his first drink and said, 'Spin your yarn, Cap'n.'
I did, without mentioning destination or its exact location.
'In wyrm weather, you say,' he said thoughtfully when I mentioned that part of it.
'Aye. And I suspect that's a significant factor.'
'You're no doubt right. but go on.'
'And you said I knew the ship?' he asked when I came to the part about his advice about the makeshift saddle needing to be beefed up.
'Aye. You said you'd served in that engine room for many years. I believe you called it the Lark.'
'Ah, the old Desperate Lark. I passed many'a long watch pushing that old girl along on skill and luck. That'd explain it...'
'There was a legend aboard the ship that this wasn't the first time you appeared as a ghost. You were even said to stand a watch or two as one, so I knew who you were right off.'
He smiled and shook his head, 'I get around a'bit, don't I? It's a talent of mine. But carry on, finish your tale.'
When I finished, he sat in silence, nursing his second glass for a while, lost in thought.
'Care to enlighten me?' I asked.
He finished his second whiskey and gave me a meaningful look, so I called out for another and waited patiently for him to take his first sip.
'Well, I can't see any reason for keeping ya in the dark. I've no recollection of visiting the ol'Lark since I signed off 70 some years ago. That's not to say I didn't visit as you said. It's just that I've spent most of my time since then in a sleeper-pod. So if I did visit you, it was as a sleepwalker, or in some very strange sort of two-way dream, which I can't remember, it being a dream. That's why it's so curious. It would seem that I have a whole other life I'm unaware of, awake anyway...'
'You're the most Neb-blasted strangest sleepwalker I've ever crossed orbits with if you can walk to the old Lark anywhere in the Neb in your sleep.'
'I think we can blame that on the wyrm weather. I doubt I'm wandering the Neb in my sleep, at least that solidly,' he said thoughtfully. 'But you see, the thing is, finding my way to places I've been to is a special talent of mine. I'm a chief engineer by trade, but by birth I'm what's called a Guide. It's a talent, you see. I can find my way back to anyplace I've ever been.' He laughed, 'Now I'm sure you're thinking, so what? Who can't? But you see, with me it's a special, well, psychic power that runs in the family, generation to generation. Oh, we're very highly valued people where we come from. Highly valued, indeed, mate, because of what we can do – find our way back – comes in might handy, back in the old country. Truth is, I'm over 300 years old, by the calendar, least ways. But I've spent more than half of that time a'dreaming in some sleeper-pod or another. Ol'Glen Colin has to be preserved you see, because of his special talent. Very rare, very rare indeed on this side...'
'What makes it so special, other than being a walking chart?'
'Laugh if you like. But it's being a walking chart that makes me special. Imagine if you will, a deep reef. So deep that you can't find a point of reference distant enough to act as a base – not speck of light reaches this deep reef. And picture the rocks in this reef moving every which way. Maybe there's a pattern, and if you had the computing power, you might be able to discover it, and if you had even more, you might be able to predict when rocks will collide and what that'll do to the future pattern. And you’d have to project this out for years and years... You see where I'm coming from?
'Aye, I get the idea. But how realistic is that scenario?'
'Well, where I'm from, it's very real. You see, if I found a gold asteroid in that deep reef, I could lead you right back to that
'Why don't you just put a beacon on it?' I asked.
'A good question. Because you want to keep your gold asteroid secret, you see, so you don't go about broadcasting its position. Any beacon can be found, Right? And any code broken to bring one to life, if it's known to be out there. And they only work by broadcasting to anyone who happens to be listening. Oh they've their uses, but not for the gold asteroids. To find the gold asteroids, they use the likes of us, and only us. And well, the drifts are mighty big, and beacons can only send so far. It's so much easier, and more secure just to have a good guide on board.'
'And you're a good one.'
'Aye. When I'm drunk enough.'
'Only when you're drunk enough? Or is that just your story?'
He grinned. 'Alas, lad. All too true. This here is this guide fuel,' he said, lifting his glass and taking another long draw. 'But then, it appears I can find my way about when I'm a dreaming too. But there's no profit in that, is there? Not for my employer, anyhow.'
'And who's your employer?'
He put his finger to the side of his nose. 'Ah, that's what this is all about. The Prince sent me to fetch you. I seem to have misplaced that thought a bit,' and glancing at his com link, he added, 'And I suspect he'll be getting rather impatient. Not a patient man, these days, the Prince. We'd best be on our way.'
'Who wants to see me?' I asked again, though things had become a bit clearer. It suddenly struck me that I'd likely heard from him before. 'Who's this prince?'
'Ah, that, I'm not allowed to say. Very hush-hush. Not a word.'
'I've been in the drifts too long to go off and see someone someplace, just because they send someone to fetch me,' I replied. 'Your employer can stop up to the ship if he cares to talk to me. It's been a pleasure crossing orbits with you again, Chief, and well, sort of clearing up a mystery. But I must be pushing along. I want to clear orbit as soon as we get our reactors wound up. My regards to your boss,' I said, rising. I was curious, of course, but not that curious. 'Maybe next time...'
'Ah, now, Cap'n. Don't be hasty. There's nothing to be alarmed about. An old friend just wants to become reacquainted.'
'Well, I'll need a name, and he knows where and how to find me,' I replied. 'Fair Orbits, Chief.'
He made another muffled objection as he quickly downed the last of his drink, but I didn't hesitate. I'd a sudden feeling I needed to lift. Fast. I pushed through the door into the grey, rainy afternoon and paused to turn up my collar to cross the boulevard when two others pushed through the door behind me. I'm not sure I saw the faint blue light of the darter reflected in the entry way, but let's just write it in anyway. It fits into the usual pattern for these affairs.
02
I was sprawled half on, half off a chair, and when I stirred, I heard someone say 'He's coming to, call the boss.'
My head hurt. It does every time I'm darted. How many times has it been? It hurt too much to count. Too many, anyway.
Despite the sharp headache, I found myself remarkably calm. Non-lethal darts vary in charge, and from my pounding head, I rather hoped they'd used a strong one since it would mean that I'd been out for several hours. My com link would've alerted Botts the moment I'd been darted – we'd all had several small tracking tags in us these days, just for situations like this – so my crew should have a pretty good idea where to find me. What I didn't know was how difficult it'd be to rescue me. Still, if Molaye and Botts couldn't pull off a rescue between them, I don't know who could. And well, since the Boss or the Prince – likely the party that had tried to charter us – seemed eager to talk, things might not be too desperate. Indeed, I was actually rather curious to see this Prince.
I surveyed my position through slightly opened eyes – a small office by the looks of it. I'd been dumped in a chair facing a large desk with two large men, each holding down a corner of it. My sissy and com link were on the far side of the desk, just out of reach. I'd a feeling the men were just waiting for me to lunge towards them, so I decided, no, not yet and so the three of us waited in silence for the boss.
My guards stood and stepped back as the door behind me slid open with a soft whoosh.
'Wake up, Litang. I haven't time for this nonsense and I resent the need to go to this length to get your attention. Don't annoy me further by playing coy,' said the shadowy figure in my barely opened eyes. He settled on the recently vacated edge of the desk. I'd heard that voice before, but couldn't immediately place it, save it took me back to the days when I was known as Litang. Azminn days. I pried my eyes wide open and had a look.
And shut them again, to try to think.
'What, no glad greeting for your owner?'
I opened them again and stared at the figure perched on the edge of the desk, with a sarcastic grin looking down at me.
'You're dead,' I croaked.
'If I am, so are you,' Hawker Vinden replied, spreading his arms. 'But I don't think we're beyond the event horizon yet. Do you?'
I just stared at him, half wishing I was. It'd make more sense.
'Don't gawk, Litang. You've slept too long and wasted too much of my valuable time as it is. We need to get down to business. I need to talk to my niece. I know she sailed with you from Calissant and hasn't returned. Is she aboard? If she's not, how do I contact her?'
'Who, or rather what in the Neb are you?' I asked, no doubt still gawking.
'Who or what? Are you blind or just muddled? I'm your owner, Hawker Vinden. You know, the fellow who appointed you acting captain when Miccall died. Have you forgotten me already? Neb only knows why my niece kept you on. Seni Shir must not have been available,' he growled.
'You didn't leave any instructions...' I pointed out weakly – a trivial observation, senseless really, but I was trying to get my bearings, so I added, 'Jann turned the Comet King over to Seni when he bought his planet trader half a year after you died.' And it struck me that I had already told him about that. Somewhere. Somehow. But I couldn't imagine when.
'Damn. Can't think of everything. Still, she had to have had better options than an inexperienced first mate.'
'Well, no,' I replied, still buying time. 'By the time the Lost Star arrived in Calissant orbit tramps were being laid up right and left. Any out of work captain with ambition didn't hang about Calissant. Dunnet, Kadalar and Ambon had already gone in with Jann to buy four 24 box planet traders. I was the best Min had on hand. And by Neb, I turned out to be a pretty Neb-damned good captain at that. Made a blasted fortune for her.'
I studied him closely as I talked. Was he a clone or one of the fabled eternal men – a robot like Botts with a pseudo-bio veneer and human's brain imprinted in its microchip memory? Such things were rumored to have been possible back in the ancient days, though illegal even then. Not that being illegal would stop the Four Shipmates...
He shrugged. 'So I hear. Lucky, anyway – which sometimes is just as good, while it lasts. But enough of this fond reminiscing – you're here for business. As I said, I need to talk to my niece. Make it happen, Litang. I haven't a lot of patience these days, and never had with idiots.'
I shook my head. 'Sorry, I don't know who or what you are. Vinden was blown to pieces in a needle rocket explosion, so what are you, a clone? An eternal man? A ghost like Glen Colin? And why should I trust you, anyway?
'Damn it, Litang, I'm Hawker Vinden in the flesh and obviously, I didn't die.'
'There didn't seem to be any doubt back then that you had. They found your remains and ther
He sighed. 'The whole needle rocket explosion was my escape route, Litang. We, at least the Mins and I, always had several escape routes in place – though we may've gotten careless. Perhaps we'd come to believe that they had given up after all the years. But it seems they hadn't. Tragically, we didn't find that out until Onala and Martindale were killed. Miccall was too old and broken down to care anymore. Don't know if they pushed him over the horizon, or if he just slipped over himself, but I still had my line of escape and I took it – the needle racer accident.'
'How?' I asked, watching him.
'I don't have time for this,' he snapped, but perhaps realizing that a simple explanation could speed my cooperation, relented. 'I was prepared in advance to run. The needle rocket explosion was a carefully planned set piece. I had spare body parts cloned and grown to provide sufficient pieces to identify me after the explosion. I had my yacht's sensor system rigged so that I could disappear at will from it, so some of my actions prior to the explosion were off the record and all of them after the explosion were. Years ago, I'd made a multi-sensor recording of the scene in the needle rocket hangar, right up to the explosion and saved it to be inserted into the sensor log, if and when, the time came to disappear. On the day I died, I carefully timed the needle rocket explosion, disappeared off the ship's sensors near the hangar bay, inserted the prerecorded scene of my appearance in the hangar seamless into the ship's log so that it appeared that I was actually in the hangar at the time. We're talking about environmental sensors here, not visual, so it needn't be too elaborate, a mere bio ID of me was in the needle rocket bay when the timed explosion of the rocket went off. Parts of my body were found in the wreckage. Open and shut, unless anyone had a reason to suspect otherwise. The Patrol didn't and neither did my family. As for my enemies, well, I always operate on the premise they're never completely fooled, which is why I've taken so many precautions and have been so patient when it comes to dealing with you and my ship.'
'Still, that only explains how you faked your death. You still had to get away, and that would need the help of other people. People who you couldn't assume would not be mind probed.'
'You're right in that regard, but I didn't need anyone. I'd a gig on board my yacht with a hidden bolt hole built into it where I could hide for months, if need be, sleeping in a cocoon sleeper (a suspended animation pod constructed of D-matter fabric with a small portable stasis unit). As part of my plan, I'd sold the gig to one of my front companies in a dissenting colony on Saypori's moon Nivnarna weeks prior to the explosion and had arranged for it to be delivered following the explosion. There was, of course some delays in getting it to Saypori, what with the tragic event and all, but being in suspended animation, it didn't matter how long it took. I was a quantum man, both dead, and alive. When it was eventually delivered to the hangar I'd prepared – this was, after all my own company as well – a beacon triggered the re-animate process of my cocoon bringing me back to life.
'The fact is; I'd never given up the fight. I'd been secretly building a business empire for the last half of a century to carry on with our mission so I'd resources to fall back on. Once awake, I was off to the drifts – which, while more dangerous, offered more freedom of action than the Unity. As long as I kept my continued existence a secret and my operations unremarkable, I was safe enough. This happens to be one of my firms. I've used its facilities to build what I need and I've been ready to act for several years, now. All I needed was my ship, which you've now brought to me. A bit of luck, though you've been so uncooperative before. But with you in hand, I intend to claim it. So get my niece on the com.'
I shook my head. Couldn't put it off any longer. 'She's not aboard. Hasn't been for years. She's somewhere in the drifts looking for the answers you didn't share. And I haven't heard from her since she left.'
'You want me to believe she left you in charge of my ship without having some way to contact you?'
'We agreed to communicate through Kardea at Min & Co. The thing is, she's deep in the drifts, doing undercover work for the Patrol, and we're in hiding from St Bleyth, the same people who killed the Mins, and tried to assassinate Tallith on Calissant.'
'They tried to kill her?'
'And failed. A St Bleyth assassin ambushed her on the Yacht Club tarmac one evening, with a gang of wharf rats in tow. I happened to be with her at the time. Tallith was hit three times, but just managed to survive because she was wearing several layers of armored clothing. And there's been several more attempts to get at her since then. Anyway, as I said, she slipped off, in an eight box drift trader more than five years ago and I haven't a word from her since. If she's in contact with Kardea, Kardea hasn't passed anything along to me.'
He considered that grimly. 'I told her to stay with Jelter on Kimsai. She'd have been perfectly safe there. But I hadn't expected them to try to kill her so soon after the first attempt. Really, it's her older sister, Olaeytha who is next in line... Bloody black Neb,' he muttered and rattled off a string of oaths... 'So she's in the drifts. Alone?'
I shook my head, 'She's with Tenry, Vynnia and a Patrol agent. Some sort of semi-official intelligence operation with enough freedom to allow her to chase the answers to her questions. She may occasionally communicate with Kardea, but I can't say for certain. You'd just have leave some sort of radio packet with Kardea and wait.'
'I can't risk waiting much longer. I've waited too long as it is. I'll just have to go with a regency,' he muttered to himself, after a short internal debate.
'Right,' he added, standing straighter and looking down at me. 'You're under my orders now, Litang. I need my ship. And since it's in orbit, I'll have to take it back without consulting my niece. So if you've any cargo, turn it back in. I'm not taking No for an answer this time.'
I stared at him. 'Under your orders? You're not the owner any more. If you want me to do anything, you'll have to contact Min and have Min tell me what to do.'
'The ship is mine, Litang. It was to be Talley's only after I'm dead. And I'm not dead.'
'You are, according to the Ministry of Death. And the ship is Tallith Min's, as Guild records will show. Dead or alive, you've no claim to the Starry Shore. So I've no intention of sailing under your orders. I've a nice, profitable run and I'll answer only to my owner.'
'I think not. Trust me, you're not in a position to refuse.'
'I believe I am. I suspect that neither of us is in a position to stir up trouble. St Bleyth has ears everywhere in these drifts. Our only real security is secrecy. I, however, am free to run long and far. You know your position better than I, but I'm afraid you'll just have to find yourself another ship to charter. I'm not going off on some wild expedition with you.'
He glared at me. 'I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll buy it, even if it is mine. Honor served. I'll give you an excellent price. You can buy another one in Amdia to replace it.'
'How can I sell Tallith's ship, even if I wanted to? It's not mine to sell. The owner would have to sign off on the deal, so you'd save no time at all.'
'This is the drifts. We don't need the Guild red tape. I'll give you a ChequeToken payable to Talley that you can deposit for her. The Guild record doesn't need to reflect the change since we'll be sailing in the drifts. I can't be fairer than that. Talley and I can settle things between us later.'
I shook my head, 'No. Sorry. I've neither the authority nor desire to sell you the ship. And I'm not going off on some charter in a futile endeavor to regain some lost drift world throne.' In my heart, she was mine.
'What do you know about that?'
'Nothing really. Just putting a few pieces together to make a guess. I suspect you've been trying and failing for the better part of a century. It's a lost cause, and I've no intention of getting my ship or crew involved with a long ago lost cause.'
'I don't want you or your crew
'I can't agree to that. Contact Min and have her instruct me.'
'Listen carefully, Litang. As I just pointed out, this isn't the Unity. It's my ship, and I'm taking possession of it. I'll buy it, or I'll just take it. One way or another, I'll have it. If you agree to sell, I'll pay off the crew and everything will go nice and smoothly. But if you refuse, I'll take more direct measures. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way,' he added grimly.
'The last pirate who offered me that option got a belly full of missiles, Vinden,' I replied, painfully rising to my feet to face him down. The two big men who'd been lounging against the office walls, stood straighter as well. I didn't care. 'I've heard your proposal, so now you can listen to mine. I've been sailing the drifts too long for that threat to lift. Trust me, we're not naïve, we can and will defend ourselves against anything you can throw against us, with or without me. Contact Min & Co and leave a message for Tallith. That's all you can do. Now, I'll be going as soon as you pass over my com link and sissy behind you,' I added holding out my hand.
If he was impressed, he didn't show it. He grinned and slowly shook his head. 'You don't know who you're dealing with. I haven't survived this long by letting a Unity Standard jacked up first mate call the tunes.'
'Like it or not, I'm calling them, and since I hold the Starry Shore, you'll dance to them. You haven't a choice.'
'I don't need you Litang,' he said quietly – his cold eyes said a bit more. 'I can deal with your first mate, just as easily.'
'Good luck with that,' I replied, with a laugh, holding his gaze. 'She's more than competent to deal with the likes of you. She's a moon-born drift pirate...'
We glared at each other for a few seconds more, before he shrugged. 'Right. I'll get my people in position to play this either way and will be back shortly to get your final word,' he said and stalked out.
The com link and sissy were still sitting on the far edge of the desk. I glanced at the guards. They avoided my eyes, looking anywhere but at the little darter – but with, shall we say, a hopeful smirk. I decided not to play their game. Not yet, anyway, and turned, stepping around the chair to the office window overlooking the dim-lit warehouse.
I could see them watching me in the reflection of the clearsteel, now hoping I'd make a break for the door. Standing around was no doubt getting boring, but I still had no intention of making them happy.
The window looked out on a large, dim-lit warehouse. In its dim expanse were four, well, let's simply call them vessels, though which medium they were designed to sail on or in was not immediately apparent. They were already crated in open-framed shipping containers, ready for transport. The two largest vessels, which could've been 40 meters in length, a dozen wide, stood a bit higher than the office widow – say fifteen meters. They were shaped more or less like ocean vessels – with a flat bottomed hull and a wedge shaped prow, slightly rounded sides that tapered back to two short, stout wings or fins as well as vertical tail. The upper half of the hull was divided into three deck houses, the middle one a deck higher than the other two. Open decks, covered by gratings, separated the three deckhouses. They didn't look like any type of ship I'd ever seen. I didn't see any method of propulsion, but the after wings looked incomplete. The two other vessels were smaller – perhaps 15 meters in length with rounded fuselages and stubby wings and enclosed propellers and brought to mind the strange vessel we have in no. 4 hold – the one that Riv said wasn't a zep gondola. They looked to be some sort of aquatic submarines, since they seemed too heavily built to be airships, and sported no rocket engines that I could see. Still, there are many different types of worlds, perhaps they could be used, somehow, in some low gee drift world. In the end, I gave up and considered more pressing matters, like what could I do, if my shipmates couldn't reach me.
And what if they tried... Vinden was never a fool, and given the persistence of his enemies, this facility would likely be very secure. Perhaps a St Bleyth stealth might slip in unnoticed, but would my crew be able to pull that off? The more I thought, the more I hoped they wouldn't try. Indeed, I could just sell the ship to Vinden, and let him pay off my crew. Botts could remain hidden on board, and with its ability to control the ship's systems, disable Vinden's crew, the pirate way, using the environmental system, allowing us to retake the ship. We'd just dump Vinden's crew and be on our way. It looked to be the simplest, safest way to deal with Vinden. I ran over every angle of it, and I couldn't find a flaw.
'Call Vinden. Tell him I've decided to sell him the ship,' I said turning to the two guards.
'You can tell him yourself. He'll be back shortly,' replied one of them.
And, as if on cue, the door whooshed open beside me. I turned, expecting to see Vinden, but instead, saw a tall figure in a long wet coat with a leering dead face under a wide brimmed hat.
'Neb!' I exclaimed, but had the presence of mind to drop to the floor.
The darter fight, such as it was, was over in a second, with the two guards collapsing to the floor. From my position on the floor, I recognized the white foot-pads.
'Botts! What are you doing here?' I exclaimed, rather mindlessly. 'And where’d you get that mask?'
'I've come to collect you,' it replied drily. 'The mask was a quick print job. Not too lifelike, I must admit. We'll have time to talk later. Now we must hurry, I fear the darter shots may have triggered alarms.'
'Damn,' I said, rising to my feet. I swiped my com link and sissy off the desk and jammed them into my pocket. 'Whatever happens, you need to get back aboard the ship. Abandon me if you must.'
'Follow me, Captain. Everything in hand and if all goes as planned, we'll be aboard ship within the hour,' and added with an exuberance that had me once more doubting its class 8 claim, 'This is just like old times with "Villain" Viseor!'
We bolted out of the office and flew down the stairs to the warehouse floor. 'This way, sir!' Botts said and was off running between the strange vessels, the tails of its long coat flowing behind it. I took off after it. Ravin is a small planet with only a .4 gee gravity, so I hadn't worn an exoskeleton down for what I thought would be a brief visit – a decision I now regretted.
'This is a remote warehouse, at the edge of the compound. There's a door at the far end. Once through it, steer for the wall. I'll jump to the top and drop a line to haul you up and over. Beyond the wall is a deep woods. I'll carry you to the waiting flier, we will make much better time that way,' it said conversationally as we raced for the far wall.
'How'd you get in?' I panted.
'This building is part of a zep factory compound with a showroom for its products in another building. We arrived by a rented flier with Molaye and Kie pretending to be shopping for a zep. While they looked at zeps in the showroom, I broached the security system, and borrowing a transport robot's ID, followed your tracker's signal through the compound to this building without tripping any alarms. Security is elaborate for human intruders, but rather lax for machines. They never knew anything was amiss until I fired my darters and they're only beginning to respond now. We should have plenty of time to make our escape before they mount an effective response. Molaye and Kie have already lifted and will be waiting for us to rendezvous in the woods.'
'Right,' I panted as Botts put on a final spot of speed, sprinting ahead to a small door set in the tall warehouse wall. It had it swinging open as I panted up.
'Fifty yards to the wall,' it announced brightly. 'Then over and we're clear.'
Gravity is never kind to spaceers, so I saved my breath and plunged out into the rain.
It was cool, grey and misting. Ahead was a five-meter-high concrete wall, and beyond, a black woods wrapped in mist. Once again Botts raced ahead, and, in a single leap, scrambled to the top of the wall. It deftly unwrapped a rope from under its coat and dropped a line down to the ground as I pulled, up, legs aching, gasping for breath.
'Put your foot in the loop and h
I slipped the loop over my boot, and grabbing hold of the line with one hand. 'Heave away,' I said, looking up, using the other hand to fend off the wall a bit.
Botts, bracing itself over the far end, pulled me up, scraping here and there along the wall, seemingly effortlessly, to a point where I could grasp the top of the wall and pull myself up the rest of the way.
'Over the side, I will lower you down,' it said.
So I turned and swung my legs over, and started dropping, the line breaking my fall. I reached the wet bracken and called up. 'I'm down.'
'Aye,' it said, and leaped lightly down beside me.
'On my back, Captain. I can make much better time than you. Time is of the essence.'
I didn’t argue. I could hear the muffled roar of several fliers approaching. On my own, I'd not be able to do much more than a walk. I wrapped my arms around its neck and jumped up, wrapping my legs around its waist. It tucked its arms under my legs lifting them out of its legs' way. 'Hold on tight, it'll be rough going.'
We took off, bouncing into the deep pine and fern forest. It was rough going. I was sopping wet in the first thirty seconds, but they built robots tough, back in the old days – all D-matter construction with powerful bio-designed engines to drive its limbs – so I was a minor burden as Botts raced through the deep, damp shadows of the green-black pines, the tall pale ferns swooshing past us, in a spray of cold mist. Above the tree tops, I could hear the roar of two fliers weaving back and forth, searching. They may've had thermal sensors and radar, but even so, with the dense tree cover, they'd have to be right on top of us to get a read, and indeed, after several minutes, we left them behind us.
'Listen Botts,' I said as we bounded along. 'The person who kidnapped me is the old owner of the ship, Hawker Vinden whom we all thought dead. He wants to take back his ship and pay the crew off. It doesn't matter if you can't get me out, just as long as you escape and get back to the ship. Tell Molaye to accept his offer and get off the ship. Once they're aboard I'm sure you can deal with them one way or another. We can dispose of them and get clear of here. Clear?'
'Aye. If need be. However, I see no reason why we all can't get back. Just hold on.'
We reached the clearing – really a narrow lane in the woods – less than half an hour later. We must have covered 10 kilometers through the woods. A flier was waiting. I dropped down and staggered through the hatch. Molaye and Kie were in the front seats, Molaye with a big grin, Kie looking serious. 'Are you alright, Captain?' he asked.
'Great. Thanks mates. Let's clear,' I added as Botts slipped in beside me.
'Right,' replied Molaye and the flier lurched forward and began to race down the narrow lane. 'There are four fliers searching not far off, perhaps we can slip by them if we keep low and run fast,' she added.
She kept the flier in the lane, just above the ground, the trees flying by in a blur. Luckily the lane was nearly straight, though we were brushing the pine boughs whenever we had to swing to follow a slight turn.
'What happened Captain?' she asked, conversationally as we shot down the lane.
'I can tell you later, when you can give me more of your attention.'
'Oh, I've attention to spare,' she laughed, glancing back at me, just to scare me.
'The usual story. Darted when I didn't care to meet with some unnamed person. What makes it unusual are the characters. I met Glen Colin, in the flesh, and then, well, another ghost of sort, Hawker Vinden.'
'Neb! Our old owner?'
'The very same. Claimed to have faked his death to escape from their old enemies who'd found them – The Four Shipmates – at last. Guess I'll have to believe him.'
'What'd he want?'
'His ship back,' I said, and spun my tale, as we twisted through the trees, making sure to mention the importance of getting Botts back aboard as first priority.
'They've made us,' she said shortly after I finished my tale. She sent the flier up just sweeping over most of the trees. She dodged the others. This was a tourist rental model, so there was a clear glass dome, and looking back, I could see two fliers trailing us, just visible through the rain. The pursuers were in more powerful machines and began to creep closer despite Molaye flying ours flat out.
'We'll be at the flier port in five minutes. Have them meet us there,' she said, and Kie touched his com link and relayed the message.
'Elana and Sol have the longboat at the local spaceport. They'll meet us at the airfield,' she added for my benefit as we came to the end of the forest and shot over pastures and crop land.
The pursing fliers were up to us by the time we swept over the airfield on the edge of a small city. There were fliers parked in rows before the main terminal and a ring of zep hangars around the field.
We swept around and settled on the tarmac near a line of rental fliers. The two pursuit fliers circled around to land on either side of us. Perhaps by making everything so public, Molaye assumed their hands would be tied. But this was a drift world. I was far from certain anything they might attempt would do more than raise a few eyebrows.
'We'll just wait for the boat,' she said, shutting down the flier. 'The rental company has an agency here, so we'll be able to get our deposit back,' she added, smugly.
The other fliers landed too, one on each side, about twenty meters away. Looking up, I saw two more fliers circling overhead. At the moment, no one was doing anything – waiting for instructions, or simply waiting to see what our next move was.
'Remember Botts needs to get to the ship,' I said.
'Don't worry, Wil. Elana can deal with fliers...' she said, even as the longboat roared out of the low, grey clouds overhead.
Elana swung the boat around and came in just over the tarmac, aiming to land between us and one of the fliers on the ground. Our flier bounced in the blast of the longboat's landing jets. The moment she had her boat alongside, she tilted it away from us and poured on the power, shooting over us. The back blast of her landing jets flipped the flier next to us on its side. She swung around again to serve the other flier the same treatment. They tried to take off, but Elana caught it just as it lifted, sending it bouncing across the field. She came back and settled as near to our flier as possible, rocking our flier alarmingly with the landing jet's exhaust. We opened our hatches and tumbled out even as the longboat's hatch swung up and scrambled aboard.
'To the ship,' I said as the hatch swung close. 'And tell Riv to get his engines wound up. We'll leave orbit as soon as we secure the boat.'
In talking with the crew afterward, I found that Botts had played a key role in remotely charting Vinden's security system before they went in. It has all sorts of sensors and radios that it can deploy to see and do with, allowing it to manipulate electronic devices and hack digital systems. I'd have been dead half a dozen times over, if I'd not let Rafe bring Botts back to life. Sometimes, like Grandmama says, you make your luck.
03
We called on Ravin two more times during our now our annual visit. We broke orbit as soon as we'd discharged our cargo. No one went downside. We received no communications from Hawker Vinden. We both had secrets to keep, and I presume we kept them. I'd hoped that he'd gone on to try to recapture whatever drift throne he was determined to regain using some other ship.
Nadde got her time in and passed for her environmental engineer's ticket, freeing Kie to go back to being a systems tech full time, which in turn, allowed Rafe to retire – at least for a while on Barvene. He said with Kie back he wasn't needed on our milk run, and wanted to expand his horizons a little. Which I took to mean hacking the Amdia Guild and trade systems. But who knows? He may find other things to interest him.
To no one's surprise, Kie and Elana announced a partnership, though a less intense one than he had with Molaye. They kept their own cabins, but both seemed happy with that arrangement, as did Molaye.
Molaye's would-be partner, Linnor, was sailing the Kryver Reef ag