Smuggler's Dilemma (15 page)

"That thing’s perfect," I said. "Do you think he’d wear a vac-suit?"

"It’s been done," Ada said, "but I don’t think it’s very common. The reading I did today says that if you give them experience in zero gravity as babies, they are really natural at it."

"What about septic?" I asked.

"That’s a bit harder," she answered. "Turns out some people teach them to use the head. I’ve found instructional videos you can watch. It’s a lot of work, but then as spacers, we tend to have a lot of free time."

"Kind of sounds fun," I said.

"For now, this little guy just needs sleep. I hope he’ll be off the cuff by the time we leave this rock," she said. "Did you find any kitty food on the base? He’s a little young to be weaned, but according to everything I’ve read, he should be able to eat solid food."

Nick put up his hand. "I know where there’s some cat food. There was a bunch in their pantry. I’ll make sure that crate is on top."

I spent the night in the pilot’s chair next to Ada again and she let me keep Filbert on my chest. She had to keep reassuring me that his purr, which sounded more like a piece of loose metal rattling, was him expressing happiness.

JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE PARANOID

Nick assured us that we could get through the crates in one day, even though we were to inventory each of them thoroughly. I didn’t have any reason to doubt him, but it was a lot of work to handle every item in each crate. He’d made it easier by having the stevedore bot bring us a crate and place it on a platform so that we didn’t need to bend much. Once we’d sifted through the crate we repacked it, recorded its serial number and the stevedore bot moved it out of the way.

"Cap, Nick, you’re going to want to see this," Marny said.

She’d opened one of the larger crates. We had to stand on ladders to look down into it. I hoped she’d found missiles. I wasn’t expecting trouble, but you could bet we would eventually find a use for them. What I saw in the crate confused me, though. It was some sort of vac-suit made of a very heavy, armored material.

"What the frak is that?" I asked.

"Mechanized infantry suit," Jake said. "Talk about contraband."

I looked at Marny. "Is he right?" It certainly lined up with what I thought a mechanized suit would look like.

"On both counts," she said. "It doesn’t get a lot more illegal than one of these. I bet the Navy will change their mind about our agreement when they see these bad boys."

"How many are there?" I asked.

"Three," she said.

I couldn't believe our luck. "Are they operational?"

"They operate on ship fuel, although their batteries are probably low. Maybe have Jake check 'em out - they’re right up his alley." Marny said.

"I’ve never seen one, but I bet I can figure it out." Jake had come over, interested in what we’d found. He bent over the crate and touched the suit. "Want me to spend time with 'em?"

"It’d be worth a look," Marny said. "I’d like to know if they have ammo. But it’s not like any of us could use it."

"Why’s that?" I asked.

"Training for a suit like this takes almost three or four months," she said. "They’re super sensitive. We could walk around with it, but if you did something wrong, you could punch through the side of the ship in a heartbeat."

"Is there more than one kind of mechanized infantry?" I asked.

"Not sure what you mean," she responded.

"Well, my dad said he was mechanized infantry," I said. "Do you think he had a suit like this?"

"No idea. Was he Mars?"

"Nope, North American," I said. "Beginning of the Amazonian war."

"Really?" Marny asked. "That was my war. You’re making me feel old. But if he said mechanized, he could have been an engineer or some sort of support staff. These are the suits they used. Did he see action?"

"I think so, he didn’t talk about it much. You have to know Big Pete. He’s not really a talker, especially about himself."

"Did he ever call someone a squishy?" she asked.

"Hah! Yes. If he got pissed at someone, he’d call 'em that, like he couldn’t think of a worse insult."

"Aye, that sounds about right. They called everyone that wasn’t wearing one of these suits a squishy. We’ll have to charge 'em up, maybe he can take it out for a ride before M-Pro (Mars Protectorate) shows up to confiscate them."

"I’ll let you know what I can figure out. It can’t be that complex. Most military gear is simplified so people who are under stress can still make sense of it," Jake said. "We actually have a maximum complexity calculation we use when designing interfaces for field use."

"Cool, love to see what you come up with," I said.

By the end of the day, we’d gotten through all of the crates, not finding anything else anywhere near as interesting as the mechanized infantry suits.

***

At dinner that night, Jake had more information for us. "On the black market, each of those suits is worth at least a million. Maybe a million and a half."

"That’s more than the entire rest of the load. Each," Nick said, sounding thoroughly impressed.

"Really?" Jake asked. "You feel like we’ve got a million in the rest of that?"

"Might be closer to eight hundred, but yeah, it’s a good load," Nick said. "Better yet, the stevedore bot has been packing the ship all afternoon. The construction bot is tearing down the shelving and will work on the warehouse while we sleep. By 1200 tomorrow, the only thing left on the asteroid will be the control center and power generator. We’re about twenty hours ahead of schedule."

"How’s Filbert?" Marny asked before I could.

"If he has another day like today, we’ll take the medical cuff off the day after tomorrow. He gained another fifty grams and he’s a lot more active. I just hope his hair grows back." Ada laid the blanket down on the table and pulled it back, exposing the scraggly kitten. He stood up and walked across to where Nick sat and batted at a reflection on the surface of the table.

"He’s a lot more active," I said. "Did any of the gravity boxes get manufactured today?"

"They both did," Nick said. "I pushed up their priority. I don’t need the stuff I had in the queue until tomorrow. Tell me where you want them, and I’ll install them. I won’t have much to do until the warehouse is disassembled and packed up."

I turned to Ada and asked, "Think he’s ready to sleep on my bed?"

"I wouldn’t," she said. "I manufactured a litter box for him to start training on, but he might make a mess on your bed, he’s not real good with that yet."

"What else did you find out about the suits?" I turned back to Jake, remembering that we'd been talking about those before we got distracted by the fur ball.

Jake was ready to talk about his discoveries. "I woke 'em up and they automatically found the power grid and topped off their emergency batteries. They’ve got fuel and are half loaded with ordinance. They’re amazing. Each suit manufactures ammunition on the fly. It runs on normal ship fuel, oxy crystals and recycled water. Basically, they’re mini one-person ships and as far as I can tell, they’ve never been used."

"Too bad we’ll never get to play with them." I turned my attention to Nick. "Speaking of, when will we send the bill of lading to Belcose?"

"Belcose?" Jake asked.

"We talked about him back on Mars. Remember?" Nick responded. "Lieutenant Gregor Belcose is our Navy contact and I figured we’d send him an update once we’re in Mars space."

"Why wouldn’t we sell the suits outside of Mars jurisdiction?" Jake asked. "It feels like you’re giving away a pile of credits, and that affects all of us."

"We made a promise to M-Pro that we’d give them the scans of the cargo. I can’t go back on that without risking our reputation," Nick explained.

"We’re not even in their space, I don’t see the big deal. I’m not crazy about leaving that kind of money on the table." Jake didn't have the relationship that I did with Nick. He also didn't know about our background with the Navy. I got all that and breathed deep so I wouldn’t get confrontational with him.

Nick looked at me, clearly hoping I’d pick up the conversation. I did.

"It’s a judgment call. From our perspective the Letter of Marque, which gives us our privateer status, is worth a lot more than the suits. We also don’t know that Belcose will confiscate them. We’d be acting in bad faith if we didn’t send him the scans or if we sold them before we made contact," I said.

"That’s a pretty big loss you’re asking us stakeholders to take," Jake said.

I studied his face. He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t backing down either.

"How about this. If they decide to confiscate, we’ll counter with a negotiation for missiles, fuel or something of value. If that works, the corporation will pay out based on the value of the trade," I said.

"That’s a lot of ifs," he replied.

I nodded at him. "Agreed. And, at this point, we have no idea if the Navy will confiscate them. So let’s table the conversation for now. Until we get off this rock, there’s not much we can do about it."

"Understood," Jake said, a bit sullenly.

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"We have one more night on the asteroid," Marny said. "Nick and Jake will disassemble the first stationary gun tomorrow afternoon. Two stationary guns are reasonable protection out here, but once we power down number two, the
Hotspur
will need to be on patrol."

Marny, Nick and I had already been through this, but I appreciated her help in disseminating that information to the rest of the group.

She continued, "Nick and Jake, you’ll sail the barge to Colony 40. It won’t be full, but the Hotspur will escort anyway. I don’t want to be strapped to the barge on the way over. We’re not expecting trouble, but it’s what you’re not expecting that typically ruins your day. Liam, how many days travel are we looking at?"

I acknowledged her question. "
Hotspur
could do it with a Schedule-B burn plan in five days. With the tug, we’ll go slower and get there in six. Tonight Ada, Marny and I will start rotating watches on the
Hotspur
. We’ll leave Jake and Nick out of the rotation since they'll have a couple of long days working on the stationary guns."

"How about a load from Colony 40 back to Mars? Any thoughts on that?" Jake asked.

I didn’t mind answering the question, but it felt like he was starting to second guess our planning.

"Once we offload the recyclables on P-Zero we’ll have a hundred twenty cubic meters free. I’ll be working on filling that tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like to see how we work with TradeNet." I hoped that being more transparent would help him trust the process more. "Have you lined up a buyer for your beer? We know the guy who runs one of the more popular diners called the Gravel Pit."

"I’ll take you up on both of those ideas. And no, I haven’t found a buyer yet, so the introduction might be helpful," Jake answered.

"Would you like me to take Filbert for a while?" I asked Ada. During our conversation he’d been exploring the top of the table and jumping at anything that moved. Clearly he was feeling much better and I hoped to spend some time with him.

"I wouldn’t mind a shower and a few hours of sleep on a flat surface." Ada had been sleeping in the pilot’s chairs in the cockpit and while they were very comfortable, they didn’t allow you to stretch out.

"I’ll take the next watch," I offered.

It was 2200 and we were all exhausted from the day. Dinner broke up without much more conversation and I picked up the squirming little Filbert and carried him to the bridge. I marveled at his transformation from nearly dead to unable to sit still. I put him down on the bridge's new carpet and walked toward the cockpit to start my watch. Clumsily he followed, his claws grabbing the carpet at inopportune moments, causing him to plant his face on more than one occasion. I took pity on him once we reached the stairs separating the cockpit from the bridge. For now, he was too small to get into much trouble, even in the cockpit.

At 0200 I heard someone arrive on the lift at the back of the bridge. Filbert had been asleep for an hour and I’d been looking for cargo contracts between Colony 40, Delta, Terrence and Mars in just about any combination that ended at Mars. There was no lack of possibilities, but many of the cargos were small enough that dragging both ships along didn’t make much sense.

"Cap, we might have a problem," Marny said sitting on the arm of the other pilot’s chair.

"All’s quiet here, what’s going on?"

Our sensors and those on the station certainly hadn’t detected any problems. I noticed that Nick had taken a seat on the bridge’s couch, his long dark hair a mess. I carefully lowered Filbert into his box and followed Marny down to the bridge’s main level to join Nick.

"Not here. Remember when I told you that there might be a problem at the Indian Colony Anaimalai? Well it's official. They were hit a week ago by a fleet of Red Houzi," Marny said.

I didn't think it was that far from where we were.

Show Anaimalai in relationship to us on bridge holo
.

I swiveled my chair for a better view. A familiar solar system map appeared, highlighting the different colonies that I was familiar with including Baru Manush, only four hours away. I was startled to discover that Anaimalai was only six days past that.

"How big of a fleet?" I asked.

"It’s not clear. Anaimalai is big, five thousand souls. So far, they can only account for two hundred survivors," she explained.

"Frak. They killed all those people?" It was about the worst case you could imagine for a colony. It was one thing to be hit by a rogue asteroid, but a fleet of warships bent on destruction would be terrifying.

"No doubt they murdered a lot of them. Some would have been pressed into service," Marny said soberly.

"Anything we can do about it?" I asked.

"No. The fight’s over and relief is on the way. The thing is, the Indians don’t have a strong enough presence to actually do anything and clearly the Red Houzi know it."