Smuggler's Dilemma (11 page)

She led me into the cargo hold and jumped up on top of one crate after another. I noticed right away that someone had turned the gravity down in the hold, which made following her that much easier. Once she got to the top crate, she jumped over and grabbed one of the outer ribs of the hull and crawled hand over hand until she was at the ceiling. I couldn’t help but notice that she ended up very close to the large white platform I’d seen earlier.

"What’s that?" I called from the highest crate. I hadn’t started crawling up the wall yet and wasn’t sure how that was going to go. With the gravity down, I suspected I could make it.

"Come on up. The gravity is reversed up here."

She didn’t need to say that last part, as I could see she was now standing upside down on the platform. As a spacer, I was used to seeing people in different orientations, so it didn’t give me too much pause. I jumped for the same rib Marny had climbed and pulled myself up. The transition in gravity toward the top was gradual, finally allowing me to stand on the hull and walk onto the platform.

"So, really, what is this?" I asked. The gravity was heavy, at least 1g if not more.

"Mostly, it’s a boxing ring. But it also has grav-weights, bench and a track." Marny opened a locker next to the platform and pulled out some equipment. She handed me a pair of gloves and a padded helmet.

"You want me to box?" I asked.

"It’s a better workout than you think. Krav Maga is good, but we need to mix things up. Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you," she said.

"Are you boxing with Nick?" I asked, surprised.

"I’m teaching him, but I wouldn’t call what we’re doing boxing," she said.

"No. I wouldn’t either," I said and raised my eyebrows.

"I didn’t mean that." Marny’s face flushed but she pushed on. "First, we need to warm up. You’ve already learned about hitting techniques, but boxing is more than punching someone."

She showed me how to turn on the running track and while she jumped rope, I ran on the stationary track built into the floor of the ring. It felt good to run. I hadn’t been on a track since I’d lost my foot and was surprised at how little the prosthetic bothered me. Running was definitely an easier motion than climbing a ladder. After twenty minutes I was more than warmed up, but I wasn’t about to admit it, especially after watching Marny effortlessly jump rope next to me. I was satisfied, however, to see that she was sweating heavily once we stopped.

"Stretch it out now that we’re nice and warmed up. We don’t want to cool off, but we don’t need to be straining anything either," she directed.

We stretched for several minutes and she finally popped up and grabbed two sets of gloves. One set looked like it was really flattened out and the other looked like what I’d come to expect from boxing gloves. Marny threw me the normal looking gloves and pulled on the flattened pair. It took me a few minutes to pull them on, but the auto-synching mechanism finally closed comfortably around my wrists.

"A boxer has to remain light on their feet," Marny started, fully in instructor mode. "At the same time, a lot of the power you need for a big hit is translated from the ground, through your legs, and into your target. So it’s important to spend some time on your footwork."

We’d spent a good deal of time working out together in the past, so it was easy for me to figure out what she was communicating.

"I’m wearing focus mitts. When I flash a mitt, you’re going to respond to it. Initially, if you see my left mitt, you jab with your left. If you see my right mitt, hit with your right. Also, keep your stance like we worked on and rotate with me," she continued.

It was an interesting dance we performed. I wasn’t particularly light on my feet but Marny didn’t seem to mind. Each time I thought I was getting somewhere, she’d introduce a new twist. By the end of the session I was completely beat, to the point of not being able to lift my arms. I finally held up my left glove, knelt down and rolled onto my back.

"When did you box?" I asked.

"Navy," Marny said, lying down next to me. "I wasn’t that good, but I got along."

"I have a hard time believing that," I said.

"Nah, I started too late and I’m too heavy. It’s a helluva workout though, don’t you think?"

"I’m dead. I don’t think I can lift my arms."

"Yeah, you’re going to feel it. You should work out with Jake. He competed in Golden Gloves back on Earth," she said.

"Golden Gloves?"

"Amateur boxing league."

"Can you take him?"

"Jake gave it up once he started school, but he’s got a hook that you don’t want to ignore. His knowledge of form is excellent. I’m learning a lot from him."

"You didn’t answer my question," I said, although I knew the answer.

"You want to lie here or grab the shower first?" She wasn’t about to answer me.

I didn’t think I could get up if I wanted. "How about I’ll hang out for a few."

About an hour later I slid into the cockpit next Jake. My arms trembled when I pushed against the chair to adjust my position.

"You ready to take a break?" I asked. I had no intention of going anywhere for quite a while.

"Sure. Did you actually spar with her?" Jake asked.

"She wore flat gloves and made me hit them," I said.

"They’re called focus mitts. If you keep that up for a couple of weeks you’ll be ready to do some sparring. Just focus on your form and footwork, don’t worry about trying to hit hard. There’s too much to think about initially."

"I can barely lift my arms," I said.

"Yeah, right there with you. I haven’t hurt this bad for a long time. I’m kind of glad you showed up. You think she’ll give me a break now that you’re here?" Jake said.

"I wouldn’t count on it. Any news from Nick?" I asked.

"He’s half an hour out. Are we still planning to have the
Adela Chen
transport the
Hotspur
on the barge?" Jake asked.

"Roger that. Would you like me to take the helm for that?" I asked.

"No, but maybe you could stick around. I’d like to get some experience with the stick."

"Good. Then let’s line up with the Adela Chen so we’re matching speed when they get here."

Create navigation plan to synchronize speed with Adela Chen
.

Identify optimization parameters; time or fuel efficiency
, the AI requested.

Optimize fuel efficiency to schedule c. Report time required
, Jake answered.

Forty-eight minutes
.

"Captain?" Jake asked.

Approved
. The ship’s engines spun up in response to the new plan.

"How will we do shift changes once we’re on the barge?" Jake asked.

He was every bit a greenie - interested in every aspect of ship life. At some point he’d be more comfortable with the routine. "We’ll do twenty-four hour rotations with four hour watches and shut the engines down every rotation so we can transfer people between ships. With five people, everyone will get more than sufficient rest," I outlined.

"I volunteer to take every other rotation. I’d like to get the hours in," he said.

"Careful about talking like that in front of Ada. She’ll have you working on your Master’s license."

"That’s a great idea," he said.

TRADING 101

By the time we were a day from Terrence station, my body had started to recover from Marny and Jake’s near daily pounding. Two weeks wasn’t enough time to become even a junior boxer, but I’d grown to appreciate the sport. There was a period of time in the past, where boxing had all but disappeared. Medical science hadn’t been able to repair the damage inflicted to the brain and elite boxers suffered greatly as they aged. Now, it simply required a medical patch.

Terrence was a relatively new mining colony when compared to Colony 40. The founders of Colony 40 had ignored Terrence’s location due to a lower mineral density. Colony 40 had been settled eighty years ago, but Terrence was half that age and its founders were aggressively working through the nearby material.

The main station of Terrence was well designed with a large tube-shaped central core and five round tower pods attached to the outer rim. The entire bottom section of the central core consisted of stacked landing bays that could accommodate a multitude of different size ships. If we cared to, we could have docked the tug and barge at a nearby mooring. They came equipped with an automated tender to run passengers back and forth to the station. I’d set the rotation schedule so that Jake, Marny and I were on the
Hotspur
on approach. Nick and Ada would set course to our captured pirate outpost and we’d catch up after finishing the delivery.

"How is your beer selling?" I asked Jake. I had the helm, but he wanted to watch the approach to the station.

"I’ve got all but two crates sold," he said. "Didn’t make as much as I’d like to, but I’ll clear ten percent even if I don’t sell the last two cases. I’m kicking myself for not trying to sell it to the Navy."

"I’d be surprised if you can’t move it on Colony 40," I said.

"More fuel cost, but if I get a decent price, it’ll be worth it."

"We didn’t get fresh beer out there very often. I like your chances."

Hail Terrence. Request docking permission
.

"Welcome,
Hotspur
. You are cleared on pad Twenty-A. Please transmit your bill of lading for our customs office and we request a turret lockout at five hundred kilometers." Video of a spacer woman in her mid-thirties showed on my screen.

"Roger that. Captain Hoffen out."

Transmit bill of lading. Negotiate navigation plan with Terrence Station to pad Twenty-A. Terminate comm
, I directed.

On the cockpit’s HUD a wide blue line cut a swath through space to the station that I hadn’t been able to pick out of the blackness in front of us. I accelerated along the path and, sure enough, at five hundred meters we received the request,
Terrence requests turret lockdown override for five hundred kilometer perimeter
.

Approved
, I responded. I hadn’t yet picked out where their defensive guns were, but I’d been shot at enough that I preferred to avoid any conflict. Then it occurred to me that I was awfully young to have experience with being shot at by defensive guns. I gave a small chuckle and decided that even being shot at was better than a life of hauling ore. Jake gave me an odd look and I got my head back in the game.

For some reason, I always thought a station looked more alive through the armored glass of a cockpit than it did through the vid screen’s magnified display. I made sure to keep us lined up so that both Jake and I could get a good view of Terrence. It was a busy station with lots of small ships coming and going, not unlike Colony 40. I idly wondered how far off the refining platform was. I’d heard this colony had the ability to manufacture their own variety of low-grade nano-crystalized steel. It was something the co-op back home had considered many times.

The approach from the bottom of the station was busy, but nowhere near as crazy as the traffic on Mars. I’d considered letting the AI bring us in, but the docking bay they’d assigned us was large and would be easy to land in. I considered letting Jake bring us in, but figured he could watch this first time. Although I was sitting up higher on the
Hotspur
than I was used to with
Sterra’s Gift
, the controls felt tighter and the process was a breeze.

Incoming hail from bay service
, the ship’s AI informed us.

"Captain Hoffen. Go ahead," I answered.

"Greetings, Captain. Sissy Stein here. Will you need any fuel, O2 or waste service? You should have received a price list with the hail." It was the same woman I’d just talked to.

My AI, overhearing the conversation, showed our fuel, O2 levels and their prices. We were fine for O2, but could use fuel. Prices were better than we were likely to see once we got home. "Hi, Sissy. Could you top us off on fuel? I think we’re in good shape otherwise," I said.

"Will do," she said and closed the comm.

Jake sat back in his chair and asked, "How do you contact the receivers?"

"Let’s talk to Marny. She likes to handle this, especially when we're out here in the wild."

I pulled myself out of the chair and smiled as I saw that Marny was already dressed in her armored vac-suit. She had draped my suit and one for Jake on the bridge’s meeting table. Since I was wearing a liner, I didn’t bother to look for a private place to change.

"What’s with the armor?" he asked.

I just grinned and gestured to Marny, who obliged. "It keeps people from getting funny ideas. You never know who might be skulking around. You should ask the Cap about that though, because there’s a reason I kick his ass every time I get the chance."

"I’m not sure I see the logic in that, Marny. I think you just said you kick my ass so other people don’t have to," I complained.

"No. I think you’ve got it," Marny answered me and then said to Jake, "You don’t have to carry a gun, but while that cargo bay is open, I’ll be standing by with a blaster rifle. Just don’t ever open that bay without me around, especially if there’s cargo in it, 'cause you’ll have hell to pay if you do."

Jake looked at me to see if Marny was serious. I nodded and pushed my Ruger Flechette into the chest holster. "Marny, have you made contact with the stevedore’s union?"

"Aye, Cap. They’re waiting for us. Jake’s beer is unloading first, followed by the mining equipment."

"What’s the security status like here?" I asked. "Should we call Nick and Ada in for a break?"

"I’m uneasy, Cap. I’d like to drop and run if it’s all the same to you. I’ve been reading reports of Houzi activity in the Indian sector. Nothing official, but given we’re headed in that direction and all..."

I knew that sector, so I asked, "Baru Manush?"

"Negative. I contacted my old deputy, Barney, and he said there’ve been rumors, but so far everything’s quiet."