Smuggler's Dilemma (6 page)

Pulling up the TradeNet interface, I created two fleets. The first fleet was a CA-12 cutter and a four hundred meter T400 barge. The second was the
Hotspur
and a T400. I ran loads starting at one, two, three, and four weeks out, varied the burn plans and widened our arc through the solar system. There were so many variables that I couldn’t fathom how I’d ever found work without TradeNet. The permutations seemed endless and I worked with it for a couple of hours until I heard a knock at my door.

"Come in," I said.

"Coffee?" Nick asked as he entered my hotel room. He handed the cup that he was carrying to me and sat. "I thought I heard you awake in here. What 'cha working on?"

"Just trying to find a load that will get us close to Colony 40 and the outpost," I said. "Paying for our own fuel sucks and the
Hotspur
really burns it up. I don’t think the Brits considered that in their design."

Nick chuckled, "No, I don’t suppose they did. Jake and I just finished reviewing a recent survey of the
Hotspur
."

"Jake’s here?" I asked.

"Been here since 0600," Nick answered.

"What’s the verdict?"

"We offered eight hundred thousand, contingent on the sale of the frigate."

"Did he take it?"

"There’s more," Nick answered. "Weird Wally countered. Eight-fifty, with us selling him the frigate at nine hundred thousand, and that’s where we stand at the moment." Jake had come to my bedroom door and leaned against the frame to listen to the conversation.

"That’s not bad," I said. "We started at one hundred thousand apart, and he’s at fifty. That’s close. Send me a contract that has eight-fifty for the
Hotspur
and a million for the frigate. I’ll get him to sign it," I said.

"You really think you can?" Nick asked.

"If I take Jake with me, we have a very good chance. Weird Wally wants to see this ship fly again. He’s a romantic and knows this is a good price. He gets to trade out something he hasn’t been able to sell in forever for a modern frigate worth a couple of million - once he fixes the engines. You up for a trip, Jake?" I asked.

"Let’s do it," he answered.

I didn’t even ping Wally. In my mind, if Weird Wally was one thing, he was passionate about life. His dramatic presentation of the ship, detailed stories and even his appeals to my sense of adventure were dead giveaways. I knew he was a shrewd business manager and was convinced he would have at least a hundred thousand credits of wiggle room. I just needed to get him to give it up.

"Mr. Berandor and Mr. Hoffen together. I suddenly feel outnumbered," he said with a smile when we strode into his office. I didn’t believe for a moment that he was even remotely concerned. "How can I help you?"

I started out as professionally as I could. "Mr. Waldorf, I appreciate your willingness to meet with us on such short notice. I’m sure your time is valuable, but wanted to impress upon you just how seriously we are considering your offer by coming to see you personally. Before we get to that, however, I was wondering if you had a moment where I could show you a short video sequence?"

This got his attention. "What sort of video?"

"Well, I was putting myself in your shoes and thinking about what we could bring to the table to help you add value to the frigate," I said.

"That’s a lot to ask from a video. But I do like your optimism." He gestured to the back wall. "Join me in my office, would you?"

He darkened the room and the three of us sat in chairs facing one of the blank office walls. A large vid-screen appeared, brightening the room.

"If a person is looking to purchase a frigate such as this, I believe they will want a demonstration as to its raw power. As you know, a frigate is most powerful when at broadside. There is also not very much video available from the perspective of the frigate’s foe, because as you know, its wrath is complete in its destructive power." I was hamming it up, but it felt like a good story. "So, to the extent a picture is worth a thousand words, I’ll let you be the judge of the value of this sequence."

The video started, showing Tali and me running pell-mell through the Jeratorn docking bay for
Sterra’s Gift
, the nose of the frigate just entering into the picture from left to right through the end of the docking bay. I’d chosen some suspenseful music and flashed back to the engines of our ship starting to fire up, just about the same time the frigate started letting loose its terrible broadside. I followed
Sterra’s Gift
out of the end of the docking bay, concentrating on the damage being done to the station. The video then showed two missiles being launched from
Sterra’s Gift
streaking toward the frigate, contact imminent, when it activated its anti-missile counter measures, thwarting the missiles, leaving the frigate unscathed. I had spliced together an ending scene where
Sterra’s Gift
was sent tumbling, broken, away from the frigate to end the piece.

Wally clapped his hands together as the lights came back up. "Oh what a wonderful piece of fiction you’ve assembled," he said.

He had me, I’d put in that last piece, but I felt like it was best not to show that we’d taken the frigate down by disabling its engines. "Okay, you’ve got me there. That last scene came at a different time, but everything up to that point, I can assure you, happened just as it was shown. That sequence was constructed from our actual combat data streams."

"You don’t say. And you’d submit those streams for validation?" he asked.

"Of course. We earned 'em, might as well get something out of them," I answered.

"Excellent setting, my friend. I do love a showman. So what is your counter then?"

I pinched the contract that Nick had modified and flung it to him. "You do seem rather proud of your video, Mr. Hoffen. I’m not sure that’s worth a hundred thousand."

"No, I don’t suppose it is, but after talking with Jake, we’ve become aware of quite a few items that need to be addressed on the
Hotspur
. But before I bring these items to your attention, which, as you know, would legally obligate you to share them with all other interested buyers, I’d like you to consider the value of such a video."

"Ooh, you are a playful one, Mr. Hoffen." He was very much enjoying the conversation.

"To completely lay my cards on the table, Mr. Waldorf, you have treated me well and I’d rather not complete this deal if it would taint our relationship. That said, I believe our offer is more than generous, especially given the condition of many of the
Hotspur’s
internal systems."

He grinned widely, almost manically, and stuck out his hand. "Mr. Hoffen, they don’t call me Weird Wally for nothing. You have yourself a deal and if you ever get tired of chasing pirates, come look me up. I think you’d make an excellent ship salesman."

HOTSPUR DECK LAYOUTS

BERTH DECK

BRIDGE DECK

BUYER'S REMORSE

"Have you heard from Ada?" I asked Nick through the comm. We’d been working on the
Hotspur
since very early in the morning.

"She accepted our offer," he grunted back from the crawlspace between the two decks where he was working with Jake.

"Have you talked to Belcose about his comm gear?"

Lieutenant Gregor Belcose was our contact with Mars Protectorate Navy and currently assigned to the
Kuznetsov
. With the help of Bit Coffman, we’d discovered that the comm equipment they’d installed on
Sterra’s Gift
was actually a quantum device that could communicate almost instantaneously over long distances. We’d also discovered that the device could be used to monitor our ship without our knowledge.

"Yes. He’s got someone coming over at the end of the week to move it from
Sterra’s Gift
into the office quarters. You good with that?" Nick asked.

"Sounds fine. At least this time, it’s not in my bedroom. Not that anything happens in there."

Nick cut off a laugh. "Understood." Which was Nick speak for 'unless you have something important to say, I’m done talking.'

My job was to completely remove the entire septic system – from the fixtures in the head to the septic field in the bilge. I had finally resigned myself to being the resident expert in all things poop. Unlike when we’d taken over Sterra’s Gift, the Hotspur’s system was unrepairable. The septic field stretched out beneath the bottom (berth) deck and it had been patched, repaired and jury rigged what looked like hundreds of times. It would cost twenty thousand credits to replace the system, but remembering the nightmare of my septic repair while under sail on
Sterra’s Gift
, I’d decided this was my first priority while we were still docked.

"Are we going to see her today?" I asked.

"Ada? I sent her our location. Not sure," he said. He must have been lying on his stomach as it sounded like he was out of breath.

The top deck, which we were calling the bridge deck, had a small, fully functional four-piece head - that is a shower, sink, head and zero-grav head. The whole thing wasn’t much bigger than the size of a closet. It was operational, but just barely, so it was a full gut. Not a single piece came out without a fight.

I piled the antique parts into a heavy plastic bag and lowered it down through the hatch at the back of the bridge, having yet to make friends with the ladder. It was the one thing I couldn’t navigate well with my prosthetic foot, but Nick had agreed to run the grav generator at .4g instead of the normal .6g, making it easier for me to climb up and down. I had four hours to remove the entire system before the plumbing fitter showed up.

We’d rented a renovation robot and I was dying to try it out. This particular model was a meter tall and narrow with three spindly, articulated arms. We’d already scanned every room on the ship and sent the data to the fitter. The fitter had then sent back a program we could feed to the robot for each room. All I had to do was remove the fixtures and deploy the bot. According to the manufacturer’s advertisement, when done, the room would be completely clean, rust ground down and metal built back up where necessary. All openings would be patched or precisely resized for the new equipment, and fresh paint would be applied.

Run Hotspur bridge-head program
, I instructed my AI.

"
Exit bridge head and close door. Program will complete in thirty-four minutes
." I was still experimenting with different voices and today's choice was that of a middle aged woman. It would do for now.

I exited the room and heard the machine start. It was expensive to rent, but if it could remodel that head in thirty-four minutes, it would be money well spent.

My next task was the main head, so I climbed down to the berth deck. This head had also seen decades of hard use and neglect and the fittings were just as frozen and just as hard to remove as those in the bridge head. Luckily, there’s something about getting into a task; things that start off as difficult become easier as you get into a rhythm. Apparently, removing plumbing fittings was one of those things.

I was making good progress until I got to the toilet. In the bridge head I had to cut the fixture out and I didn’t expect things to be any different here. Something most people don’t know about a ship is that the septic system has to be very carefully designed to deal with pressure buildup. Since this system was barely functioning and hadn’t been in service for more than a decade, I didn’t think there could possibly be anything active left inside. That was a bad assumption to make. When I popped off the head, several liters of foul material suddenly exploded into the lower pressure environment. The half gas / half fetid material immediately filled the interior, coating every surface and occupant.