Authors: Glenn Douglass
Tags: #adventure, #travel, #dog, #future, #space, #rescue, #supercluster
Law's End (4 page)
In Kassad's rented hanger the Sabha squatted on
its extended landing struts. The struts at the forward end extended
significantly more than the aft section to facilitate loading of
cargo. In Kassad's mind this nose-up posture made Sabha look
somewhat disgruntled at being inspecting by a stranger. While
Kassad could only see the figure's feet at his ship's far end, he
immediately felt a certain annoyance at their presumptive
presence.
Ignoring his guest who had not introduced
herself Kassad busied himself performing a quick visual inspection
of the venting ports for the reaction drive. Not that eyesight
alone was sufficient to determine anything of worth about the
mechanisms. So much of the mission would depend on these devices
that Kassad felt they merited personal attention in addition to the
usual molecular level safety inspection scans.
A couple of meters from the sharp conical end
of the twin teardrop hulls the vents expressed themselves. They
formed a discreet gap in a ring through which the thrust generated
could be directed. The cone sections could then be adjusted to
deflect the thrust as much as one hundred and ten degrees in any
direction. They made the Sabha incredibly agile.
A distinctly feminine voice called out to
Kassad from the other side of the vessel."I have some equipment to
load and I trust your ship will be ready to go as soon as it is
loaded."
"I trust her too." Kassad replied, openly
admiring the lines of his vessel.
With a whistle Kassad called for the front
facing loading ramp to open. The ramp provided ingress through a
large airlock located in the join between the two teardrop hull
segments. From the top of the ramp one could move into the
starboard section which housed the living and working spaces along
with assorted equipment, or to the port section which housed the
main cargo hold. Having both hulls separated by an airlock was a
survivability attribute inherited from her military design.
No sooner did the ramp finish extending then a
deep loud burst of threatening canine barking emanated from
it.
Openly annoyed instead of concerned the female
voice complained, "No one said anything about wild animals on the
ship."
A bemused Kassad came around Sabha's portside
to see his guest staring down a growling hound. The dog's stance
was that of a fighter, legs slightly spread, tail straight and
stiff, head and ears low with teeth prominently displayed. At a
little over a half a meter tall the dog was clad in a thick
tricolor coat in pure white, shades of brown almost orange, and a
black so dark and glossy it gleamed blue under the hanger lights.
To Kassad's eye the colors combined to make the dog look like he
was wearing a uniform.
Kassad ordered sternly, "Canis, guest."
At the command the dog's demeanor immediately
altered. The thick tail came up and began wagging like a pennant,
his head and head and ears came up spritely, and the mouth relaxed
to let the tongue hang out slightly. As the animal trotted forward
to sniff the stranger in a friendly manner it seemed an almost
impossibly abrupt shift of attitude.
The distraction gave Kassad a chance to look
over his guest. She looked to be about Kassad's own age, although
that didn't mean anything these days. She was dressed in a
civilian's version of a spacer's suit, sleek and form fitting at
the sacrifice of long term comfort and durability. It accentuated
her form well showing her modest curves and fashionably honed
strength to good effect.
Jerking her thumb towards the friendly hound
Greene observed sourly, "It might be a good idea to leave the
animal behind. Our data suggests that simpler life forms are
affected more quickly by the region than more complex ones."
Kassad wasn't about to take suggestions from a
stranger about how to run his ship, but with a raised eyebrow he
managed to make a joke about it rather than taking offense. "If
that is the case then perhaps Canis should undertake this mission
alone."
Canis barked enthusiasm at the
endorsement.
Kassad concluded by giving the dog a vigorous
patting on its back, saying, "Anyway, he's not an animal. Canis is
crew, and a vital asset to any mission."
Still not introducing herself Greene hefted two
large metal cases from a stack of luggage next to the automated
medical units that would supplement the Sabha's sickbay. In
response to the work demanded of them the muscles in her arms and
down her flanks rippled in a way Kassad found pleasing. As she
mounted the ramp Kassad lingered below for a moment to admire her
movements.
Ignoring Kassad's defense of the dog Greene
changed topics interrupting Kassad's approving gaze. "I didn't see
any viewports. If your sensors stop working do you have a plan to
navigate?"
Following his guest up the ramp Kassad
explained, "My plan is to play this by ear. We'll know what we have
to work with when we're on the other side. Sabha is a good ship, I
know her, and I trust her." After a pause to deactivate Sabha's
internal security he added, "There is in fact a starlight
navigation port that can be opened for emergencies, but if it comes
to that it seems likely the rescue mission will have to be called
off does it not?"
Navigation by eye in the vastness of space was
a rather absurd proposition although Kassad determined not to
insult his guest by saying so out loud. It would require that you
happened to know how the patterns of local stars should look from
wherever you happened to be in the supercluster. Taking a ship into
atmosphere without a machine calculated interface path was
something that Kassad found so absurd he could only call it
suicidal, and this too he did not say out of politeness.
Knowing that a failure to grasp the seriousness
of the task could just add their lives to the list of lost Greene
observed with worry, "You don't seem worried."
With a nonchalant laugh Kassad admitted, "This
ship has done surveys of Law's End without reporting unexpected
trouble with the sensors, and I have to admit that I'm more curious
than worried. The only reason I haven’t crossed Law's End before
this is simply because there was never any profit in it." Inside
the airlock Kassad paused to activate the cargo management robot,
looking like a small somewhat scuffed and dented forklift. "Luggage
to stateroom five, secure cargo in the lower cargo hold." The small
robot verbally repeated the order to verify it before trundling off
to complete its task largely ignored.
Greene stopped and turned to face Kassad, and
then as if with a great force of will said, "Thank you."
Kassad smirked. "The name is Kassad Mir, and
you may call me Kassad, but there's no need to thank me. It's not
like I'm doing it myself… um, miss?" Of course Kassad knew her
name, but it would have been presumptuous and ungentlemanly to use
any lady's name uninvited, and Kassad was always a gentleman when
it was convenient.
She peeked through the open hatchway to the
cargo bay before reversing course to head into the living spaces
and finally answering, "It's Misses Greene, and I meant about
taking the job. Time is critical and not doing anything was driving
me mad. It feels good to be doing something."
Kassad smiled again, pausing to take in his
passenger's departing form once again, before following. "I'll be
on the bridge making sure the tanks are topped off and getting
final clearance to depart. Let me know when you're ready to
go."
Sabha's crew compartment comprised two levels
with this first level being for passengers. There were eight small
staterooms connected by a recreation area, walls stepped and
narrowing as they went aft so that they could serve as climbing
stairs when in flight. The walls were festooned with hand and
footholds in places that suggested how the space would function
under different conditions. At the extreme end of the space there
was a partitioned meal preparation area and at the near end were
steeply inclined stairs, known by spacefarers as a ladder, leading
to the Sabha's upper deck.
In his first year operating the Sabha Kassad
had salvaged a wrecked yacht and from its hull he had extracted
furniture whose combined value had rivaled that of the Sabha
herself. None of the luxury furniture matched that which the Sabha
had been refitted with when originally transferred to civilian
service, let alone the few remaining pieces of furniture from when
she was a military vessel. Rather than try to reconcile this clash
of decoration Kassad had accentuated it by adding racing stripes
and geometric patterns in bold colors to the bulkheads. Somehow
everything managed to clash equally with everything else in a
consistent style that managed to baffle the more astute
visitors.
As Kassad started up the ladder to the cockpit
Greene considered the retreating form of her host. "I must say
Mister Mir that your appearance lives up to your reputation."
Greene said as the cargo handling robot returned beneath a stack of
luggage with Canis following as if supervising the machine.
Pausing on the ladder Kassad leaned back,
slightly bending his knees and arching his spine, to give his guest
a better view of his own physique. "Call me Kassad, Mister Mir was
my father, and which reputation is it that you refer to?"
It was Greene's turn to smirk. "The way
Professor Fitzgerald speaks one would think you're some sort of
pirate."
Causing Greene to recoil reflexively Canis
barked a violent response to Greene's words. Instantly the dog had
gone from friendly back into attack mode. The barking was so sharp
as to be painful in its echoing around the enclosed space as Canis
jerked this way and that trying to determine the direction of the
threat. The dog's short legs started him in one direction and then
the other before being waved into silence by Kassad.
Taking a few steps back down the ladder Kassad
smiled amusedly at the description. "Oh no, there's very little of
that. Too much legitimate or at least semi-legitimate work to
justify the risks involved in that sort of work." Certainly there
were always enough opportunities down the wells of major
settlements to keep the number of people willing to take the risks
of life in deep space low enough to keep the profits for all deep
space work reasonably high.
Rolling her eyes in disbelief Greene inquired,
"So you're admitting to just a little piracy?"
Canis response was a yip of ear splitting
volume unmistakably directed at Greene and in clear disapproval of
the term.
Shrugging noncommittally Kassad said, "I'm a
freelancer so I end up doing a lot of things. Can't even be certain
the work I've done would rise to either the glamorous levels you'd
consider worthy of that nefarious term," this brought only a
worried grumbling from Canis as Kassad leaned over to reassuringly
rub the dogs head with one hand, "but in technical terms yes."
Popular concepts of piracy weren't very
practical in reality and tended to be far from the truth. The few
freelance ship owners who would take on jobs where there was
serious risk that someone might get hurt didn't last long.
Pilfering the contents of automated cargo haulers was still very
much illegal, however only the insurance companies ever seriously
complained while many spacers considered it good sport. Even for
the companies targeted it only became serious if you pursued their
ships enough to threaten their competitive solvency.
Reality was that there truly was enough
legitimate work that paid well enough to put anyone off the idea of
working in the deadly environment of space let alone high risk
areas of crime. Even the technically grey areas of criminal
activity could only barely make the risk to reward ratio high
enough to be tempting. It was mostly thrill seekers like Kassad who
dared to skirt the law.
Misses Greene raised an eyebrow at the
admission, "A bold pirate."
This time the word provoked a soft mumbling
growl from Canis, who left in a disgruntled huff to return to the
loading ramp voicing his disapproval the whole way.
Smirking Kassad spread his hands and gave a
casual shrug. "The universe favors the bold."
Shaking her head at Kassad's casual attitude
Greene reminded him, "You can't count on those kinds of rules where
we're going. None of our assumptions can be relied upon."
Finding this a rather amusing statement Kassad
tried not to let it show. Everyone knew normal physical laws
couldn't be relied upon beyond Law's End, but it was still the same
universe. Hydrogen still burned in stars, gravity still pulled
everything to center, and electricity still worked a circuit.
Crossing his arms Kassad melodramatically
cocked his head roguishly. "Ah, well, that's half the reason to go
isn't it? I've been hearing about this Law's End since I was a
child, but they're all spacer's stories and fables. I'd very much
like to see what the truth is."
Unimpressed by the bold assertion Greene
inquired wryly, "And yet here you are with your own ship and
somehow you've never gone?"
"No, but the Sabha has." Kassad ran one hand
lovingly down a bulkhead. I've never found an excuse to make the
journey myself." Kassad gestured broadly. "There's plenty enough to
keep a gentleman adventurer such as myself occupied in the hundred
thousand galaxies."
Shaking her head in disbelief Greene scoffed at
Kassad's description of himself, and asked, "What is it that makes
a person live that sort of life?"
It was a common enough attitude largely
responsible for keeping travel between the stars as lucrative as it
was. Even the best radiation shielding did almost nothing against
cosmic rays, and long before one could accumulate a lethal dose
there would be serious genetic damage. With genetic rejuvenation
therapy being prohibitively expensive it limited the amount of time
and the number of people willing to make a living in the void.
its extended landing struts. The struts at the forward end extended
significantly more than the aft section to facilitate loading of
cargo. In Kassad's mind this nose-up posture made Sabha look
somewhat disgruntled at being inspecting by a stranger. While
Kassad could only see the figure's feet at his ship's far end, he
immediately felt a certain annoyance at their presumptive
presence.
Ignoring his guest who had not introduced
herself Kassad busied himself performing a quick visual inspection
of the venting ports for the reaction drive. Not that eyesight
alone was sufficient to determine anything of worth about the
mechanisms. So much of the mission would depend on these devices
that Kassad felt they merited personal attention in addition to the
usual molecular level safety inspection scans.
A couple of meters from the sharp conical end
of the twin teardrop hulls the vents expressed themselves. They
formed a discreet gap in a ring through which the thrust generated
could be directed. The cone sections could then be adjusted to
deflect the thrust as much as one hundred and ten degrees in any
direction. They made the Sabha incredibly agile.
A distinctly feminine voice called out to
Kassad from the other side of the vessel."I have some equipment to
load and I trust your ship will be ready to go as soon as it is
loaded."
"I trust her too." Kassad replied, openly
admiring the lines of his vessel.
With a whistle Kassad called for the front
facing loading ramp to open. The ramp provided ingress through a
large airlock located in the join between the two teardrop hull
segments. From the top of the ramp one could move into the
starboard section which housed the living and working spaces along
with assorted equipment, or to the port section which housed the
main cargo hold. Having both hulls separated by an airlock was a
survivability attribute inherited from her military design.
No sooner did the ramp finish extending then a
deep loud burst of threatening canine barking emanated from
it.
Openly annoyed instead of concerned the female
voice complained, "No one said anything about wild animals on the
ship."
A bemused Kassad came around Sabha's portside
to see his guest staring down a growling hound. The dog's stance
was that of a fighter, legs slightly spread, tail straight and
stiff, head and ears low with teeth prominently displayed. At a
little over a half a meter tall the dog was clad in a thick
tricolor coat in pure white, shades of brown almost orange, and a
black so dark and glossy it gleamed blue under the hanger lights.
To Kassad's eye the colors combined to make the dog look like he
was wearing a uniform.
Kassad ordered sternly, "Canis, guest."
At the command the dog's demeanor immediately
altered. The thick tail came up and began wagging like a pennant,
his head and head and ears came up spritely, and the mouth relaxed
to let the tongue hang out slightly. As the animal trotted forward
to sniff the stranger in a friendly manner it seemed an almost
impossibly abrupt shift of attitude.
The distraction gave Kassad a chance to look
over his guest. She looked to be about Kassad's own age, although
that didn't mean anything these days. She was dressed in a
civilian's version of a spacer's suit, sleek and form fitting at
the sacrifice of long term comfort and durability. It accentuated
her form well showing her modest curves and fashionably honed
strength to good effect.
Jerking her thumb towards the friendly hound
Greene observed sourly, "It might be a good idea to leave the
animal behind. Our data suggests that simpler life forms are
affected more quickly by the region than more complex ones."
Kassad wasn't about to take suggestions from a
stranger about how to run his ship, but with a raised eyebrow he
managed to make a joke about it rather than taking offense. "If
that is the case then perhaps Canis should undertake this mission
alone."
Canis barked enthusiasm at the
endorsement.
Kassad concluded by giving the dog a vigorous
patting on its back, saying, "Anyway, he's not an animal. Canis is
crew, and a vital asset to any mission."
Still not introducing herself Greene hefted two
large metal cases from a stack of luggage next to the automated
medical units that would supplement the Sabha's sickbay. In
response to the work demanded of them the muscles in her arms and
down her flanks rippled in a way Kassad found pleasing. As she
mounted the ramp Kassad lingered below for a moment to admire her
movements.
Ignoring Kassad's defense of the dog Greene
changed topics interrupting Kassad's approving gaze. "I didn't see
any viewports. If your sensors stop working do you have a plan to
navigate?"
Following his guest up the ramp Kassad
explained, "My plan is to play this by ear. We'll know what we have
to work with when we're on the other side. Sabha is a good ship, I
know her, and I trust her." After a pause to deactivate Sabha's
internal security he added, "There is in fact a starlight
navigation port that can be opened for emergencies, but if it comes
to that it seems likely the rescue mission will have to be called
off does it not?"
Navigation by eye in the vastness of space was
a rather absurd proposition although Kassad determined not to
insult his guest by saying so out loud. It would require that you
happened to know how the patterns of local stars should look from
wherever you happened to be in the supercluster. Taking a ship into
atmosphere without a machine calculated interface path was
something that Kassad found so absurd he could only call it
suicidal, and this too he did not say out of politeness.
Knowing that a failure to grasp the seriousness
of the task could just add their lives to the list of lost Greene
observed with worry, "You don't seem worried."
With a nonchalant laugh Kassad admitted, "This
ship has done surveys of Law's End without reporting unexpected
trouble with the sensors, and I have to admit that I'm more curious
than worried. The only reason I haven’t crossed Law's End before
this is simply because there was never any profit in it." Inside
the airlock Kassad paused to activate the cargo management robot,
looking like a small somewhat scuffed and dented forklift. "Luggage
to stateroom five, secure cargo in the lower cargo hold." The small
robot verbally repeated the order to verify it before trundling off
to complete its task largely ignored.
Greene stopped and turned to face Kassad, and
then as if with a great force of will said, "Thank you."
Kassad smirked. "The name is Kassad Mir, and
you may call me Kassad, but there's no need to thank me. It's not
like I'm doing it myself… um, miss?" Of course Kassad knew her
name, but it would have been presumptuous and ungentlemanly to use
any lady's name uninvited, and Kassad was always a gentleman when
it was convenient.
She peeked through the open hatchway to the
cargo bay before reversing course to head into the living spaces
and finally answering, "It's Misses Greene, and I meant about
taking the job. Time is critical and not doing anything was driving
me mad. It feels good to be doing something."
Kassad smiled again, pausing to take in his
passenger's departing form once again, before following. "I'll be
on the bridge making sure the tanks are topped off and getting
final clearance to depart. Let me know when you're ready to
go."
Sabha's crew compartment comprised two levels
with this first level being for passengers. There were eight small
staterooms connected by a recreation area, walls stepped and
narrowing as they went aft so that they could serve as climbing
stairs when in flight. The walls were festooned with hand and
footholds in places that suggested how the space would function
under different conditions. At the extreme end of the space there
was a partitioned meal preparation area and at the near end were
steeply inclined stairs, known by spacefarers as a ladder, leading
to the Sabha's upper deck.
In his first year operating the Sabha Kassad
had salvaged a wrecked yacht and from its hull he had extracted
furniture whose combined value had rivaled that of the Sabha
herself. None of the luxury furniture matched that which the Sabha
had been refitted with when originally transferred to civilian
service, let alone the few remaining pieces of furniture from when
she was a military vessel. Rather than try to reconcile this clash
of decoration Kassad had accentuated it by adding racing stripes
and geometric patterns in bold colors to the bulkheads. Somehow
everything managed to clash equally with everything else in a
consistent style that managed to baffle the more astute
visitors.
As Kassad started up the ladder to the cockpit
Greene considered the retreating form of her host. "I must say
Mister Mir that your appearance lives up to your reputation."
Greene said as the cargo handling robot returned beneath a stack of
luggage with Canis following as if supervising the machine.
Pausing on the ladder Kassad leaned back,
slightly bending his knees and arching his spine, to give his guest
a better view of his own physique. "Call me Kassad, Mister Mir was
my father, and which reputation is it that you refer to?"
It was Greene's turn to smirk. "The way
Professor Fitzgerald speaks one would think you're some sort of
pirate."
Causing Greene to recoil reflexively Canis
barked a violent response to Greene's words. Instantly the dog had
gone from friendly back into attack mode. The barking was so sharp
as to be painful in its echoing around the enclosed space as Canis
jerked this way and that trying to determine the direction of the
threat. The dog's short legs started him in one direction and then
the other before being waved into silence by Kassad.
Taking a few steps back down the ladder Kassad
smiled amusedly at the description. "Oh no, there's very little of
that. Too much legitimate or at least semi-legitimate work to
justify the risks involved in that sort of work." Certainly there
were always enough opportunities down the wells of major
settlements to keep the number of people willing to take the risks
of life in deep space low enough to keep the profits for all deep
space work reasonably high.
Rolling her eyes in disbelief Greene inquired,
"So you're admitting to just a little piracy?"
Canis response was a yip of ear splitting
volume unmistakably directed at Greene and in clear disapproval of
the term.
Shrugging noncommittally Kassad said, "I'm a
freelancer so I end up doing a lot of things. Can't even be certain
the work I've done would rise to either the glamorous levels you'd
consider worthy of that nefarious term," this brought only a
worried grumbling from Canis as Kassad leaned over to reassuringly
rub the dogs head with one hand, "but in technical terms yes."
Popular concepts of piracy weren't very
practical in reality and tended to be far from the truth. The few
freelance ship owners who would take on jobs where there was
serious risk that someone might get hurt didn't last long.
Pilfering the contents of automated cargo haulers was still very
much illegal, however only the insurance companies ever seriously
complained while many spacers considered it good sport. Even for
the companies targeted it only became serious if you pursued their
ships enough to threaten their competitive solvency.
Reality was that there truly was enough
legitimate work that paid well enough to put anyone off the idea of
working in the deadly environment of space let alone high risk
areas of crime. Even the technically grey areas of criminal
activity could only barely make the risk to reward ratio high
enough to be tempting. It was mostly thrill seekers like Kassad who
dared to skirt the law.
Misses Greene raised an eyebrow at the
admission, "A bold pirate."
This time the word provoked a soft mumbling
growl from Canis, who left in a disgruntled huff to return to the
loading ramp voicing his disapproval the whole way.
Smirking Kassad spread his hands and gave a
casual shrug. "The universe favors the bold."
Shaking her head at Kassad's casual attitude
Greene reminded him, "You can't count on those kinds of rules where
we're going. None of our assumptions can be relied upon."
Finding this a rather amusing statement Kassad
tried not to let it show. Everyone knew normal physical laws
couldn't be relied upon beyond Law's End, but it was still the same
universe. Hydrogen still burned in stars, gravity still pulled
everything to center, and electricity still worked a circuit.
Crossing his arms Kassad melodramatically
cocked his head roguishly. "Ah, well, that's half the reason to go
isn't it? I've been hearing about this Law's End since I was a
child, but they're all spacer's stories and fables. I'd very much
like to see what the truth is."
Unimpressed by the bold assertion Greene
inquired wryly, "And yet here you are with your own ship and
somehow you've never gone?"
"No, but the Sabha has." Kassad ran one hand
lovingly down a bulkhead. I've never found an excuse to make the
journey myself." Kassad gestured broadly. "There's plenty enough to
keep a gentleman adventurer such as myself occupied in the hundred
thousand galaxies."
Shaking her head in disbelief Greene scoffed at
Kassad's description of himself, and asked, "What is it that makes
a person live that sort of life?"
It was a common enough attitude largely
responsible for keeping travel between the stars as lucrative as it
was. Even the best radiation shielding did almost nothing against
cosmic rays, and long before one could accumulate a lethal dose
there would be serious genetic damage. With genetic rejuvenation
therapy being prohibitively expensive it limited the amount of time
and the number of people willing to make a living in the void.
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