Supergiant (Gigaparsec Book 2) (4 page)

During the trip into Prairie Station, Roz let the automatic
pilot handle most of the workload. The other crewmembers took turns watching
her. At first the behavior was touching, but when people sent Ivy in to check
after a long bathroom stay, Roz drew the line.

“Just following the doctor’s
orders,” Ivy explained.

“He doesn’t need to know the chili
we thawed gives me gas. I’ll have a word with him.”

During their next appointment, however,
Max looked so concerned that she couldn’t work up the anger to confront him. He
drew more blood for testing and asked her questions about her family tree. “I’m
sure the genetic results I have are a result of using machines calibrated for
Magi. I’ll send the sample out for the tests on Human equipment when we reach
the space station.” Then Max shifted conversation. “Who should we ask to babysit
Jeeves for our upcoming trip? What should the sitter do beyond supplying food
and water?” No one else aboard had seen the creature, and several considered Jeeves
an elaborate running joke.

Roz explained how living in a
closet could stifle the child’s development. Over lunch, she took Jeeves on a
daily “walk” to the jungle biome so he could play in the trees like a normal
child his age. With his hidden eyes and growing arms, he seemed more like a
sloth. He certainly enjoyed hugging like one. Max accompanied her to see the
frolicking. Roz hid fruit in places like the hollow log to offer Jeeves more
challenge. She found herself watching the amused doctor almost as much as the
climbing and swinging mimic.

After careful consideration, they
decided to move Jeeves’s bedding to a hidden cove in the play area. Roz would
ask Reuben to make daily deposits of food and water during the recruiting
mission. If he needed to approach the mimic, he could borrow Ivy’s mu-shield
helmet to look like a null. The jungle would be off-limits to anyone below
partner rank.

****

After Roz docked
The Inner Eye
at Prairie Station, Kesh
bellowed from the lift, “These fuel requisitions you signed are outrageous. We
don’t need this much to reach Phoenix.” His brown, pebbled skin reminded her of
an expensive handbag.

Roz explained, “Phoenix doesn’t
have fuel to spare. Buying it here and paying the freight is actually cheaper.”

“So much of it?”

“I allocated enough that we could
skip a stop in Cocytus if necessary. Standard reserves from the Union space
manual.”

Kesh said, “That’s the wartime
version, in case the port was captured by the Phibs. We don’t need that safety
measure anymore.”

“Restrictions still apply on all
border systems. This year’s manual suggests an additional 10 percent surplus
for emergency burn. I only padded by 2 percent because Echo and I plotted the
course pretty tight. If you want me to go by the book, it’ll be more. If you shave
those safety margins, then you can find yourself another chief pilot.”

“You’re going to bankrupt me,” Kesh
grumbled.

“Or save your miserly life.”

As Roz bounded down the gangway to
interview the grease monkeys who wanted to touch
her
ship, Max hovered
near her elbow. That was the last straw. “I’m not made of glass! Back off. If
the repair crews see you as the authority figure, they’ll never respect me.”
She had cleaned and pressed her uniform to make the best possible impression.

Max raised both hands in a gesture
of surrender and maintained a one-meter buffer. “We’ll tell everyone I’m your
bodyguard.”

She grunted noncommittally as they
passed through customs. The papers Reuben had provided stood up to bored
bureaucratic scrutiny.

As requested, the workers gathered
in their locker room beside their vacuum suits. Based on résumés, she had only
invited six to interview. As she examined their suits and boots, she
tsked
in disgust at two, dismissing them immediately. While Max stood out of sight, she
addressed the four remaining. “I have a delicate task for someone with a steady
hand. If your performance is satisfactory, we may be able to offer a long-term
contract.”

The handsome man in a fashionable
new shirt smiled disarmingly. “Sounds like someone needs servicing.”

Roz waved her hand. “Not from you.
You can leave.”

“Wait a cotton-picking minute,” the
fashion plate objected, standing. He towered over her by at least fifteen
centimeters.

Max started forward, but Roz glared
at him. While they debated silently, a stubble-faced man in his late forties
intervened. “You don’t want to go messing with this chief engineer, or every
service man on this vessel will take turns pummeling you.”

Puzzled, the tall, handsome man
retreated. “Some people can’t take a joke.”

When he was gone, Roz looked at her
pad. “Ensign Grady? Is there a reason you don’t think I can take care of
myself?”

“No, sir. Just your medal deserves
respect.” Grady nodded at Max’s dolphin pin on her lapel.

Roz struggled to maintain control
of the interview. “This pin was given to me by a kindhearted friend who doesn’t
know a fusion reactor from a wet fart. He hired me because he almost crushed
himself moving cargo.”

“Everybody knows them sleds have a
dead-man’s switch,” Grady said with an easy smile. A few of his teeth needed repair.

Max scratched the back of his neck,
turning away.

“Says here you were a twenty-year
man with the Union Navy,” she read. “Why settle here?”

“I helped retake Winedark. Nasty
business. Can’t stand near water too much anymore. Drove an amphibious landing
craft.”

Max gave a thumbs-up.

Roz nodded. “You’re the supervisor.
I need one more hand. Anybody have trouble working with other species?” She
listed them off one at a time, and the woman in the group wrinkled her nose at
Goat.

“No thanks.” The woman voluntarily
left.

Roz approached the last man.
“Bertram. On your application, you used the word proud twice. Are you too good
to mop or move freight when we need it?”

“No, ma’am. Who are you guys? We’ve
never heard of Far Traveler before.”

“My friends are just merchants. I’m
the cast-iron bitch who’s going to make your life hell if you slack off.
Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said both candidates.

“Any other questions?”

“Does the job come with a bunk and
three squares? The food in this place costs more than I make,” noted Bertram.

“We can arrange that. Here’s your
list of duties for the next two weeks. I want a schedule and an inventory of
things you need to requisition by end of business today.”

“A few of these things we may need
to scope out before we can give you numbers,” said Grady.

“That’s why you’re senior tech,
Ensign. I’ll sign the estimate when I get the report. Carry on.”

Once Roz was into the station
bazaar proper, she cracked a smile. “They didn’t even ask about the salary.”

Max shrugged. “I’m guessing Union
standard and a change of scenery would be plenty. Besides, you had them at cast
iron.”

She glanced at Max’s wrist unit.
“Just in time. Your appointment is in fifteen minutes. The dentist is about
four hatches spinward. I can pick up a few personal things for Ivy and Kesh
while you’re in there.”

“Dentist?” Max said, suddenly pale.

“Problem?”

“Um … could you stay with me?”

“Sure,” she said far too quickly. “Why?”

“I have trust issues. Because of my
military clearance, I can’t let anyone inject me, restrain me, or question me
unless there’s a teammate present,” Max explained.

“I’d be honored,” she said. “It’s
the least I could do for someone who lent me a pin that gets me the respect of
every serviceman I meet.”

She sat in the same room as the
dental assistant scanned Max’s mouth. The staff was reluctant to allow her presence
until she uttered the magic words, “I’m paying.”

The station dentist diagnosed
microfractures in four molars. “This has to be painful.”

“Only when I’m under stress or
drink something cold,” Max said.

“To do it right, we need to use
nano to reinforce all four.”

She had employed similar techniques
to patch concrete and hull fractures. Nano was expensive because of the extreme
precision and safety standards required. The new matter had to be biocompatible
without leaching existing calcium. Given the menu of choices, she picked the
porcelain composite that would last the rest of Max’s life, even if he elected
to have life-extension treatments. As a hero trained on Anodyne, he was
certainly eligible.

“That’s going to be pricey.” The
dentist named a figure equivalent to months of her old salary after taxes. Roz
wasn’t sure she could afford a boyfriend. “I’ve only got half that in portable
credits. It could take me a week to transfer the rest.”

“Because you’re transients, I have
to ask for payment up front.”

She sighed. “Kesh won’t like this.”

Max had a twinkle in his eye when
he said, “You mean giving up the good stuff from his collection?”

Confused, Roz tried to play along.
“Kesh will have to pay import taxes and sales taxes, plus storage fees and
transport fees. It’ll eat him alive, but what else can I do?”

“What good stuff?” asked the
dentist.

“The governor’s wine collection, of
course. The Montrachet alone goes for a few thousand a bottle,” Max replied.

“Not the Earth vintages,” she said,
trying to sound heartbroken. “He was hoping to save that for Phoenix. It’s
worth its weight in gems there.”

The dentist licked his lips. “Maybe
we could work out a trade. If you don’t charge for something, then there’s no
tax. I might be able to save you a transport fee or two.”

Max showed him the catalog on his
wrist unit, displaying the products on his forearm. They settled on 600 credits
for the dental scan and cleaning, plus two of the premium bottles. Max handed
over a business card. “If you know anyone else interested in fine wines, we’ll
be selling off the remaining catalog in eleven days at that auction house.
Remote bids will be accepted.”

From the lobby, Max contacted
Reuben on the ship’s comm and ordered some wine. “While you’re at it, bring all
three cases of samples to the baggage check-in at the public shuttle, along
with our bags.”

Roz said, “Don’t forget the geodes.
Kesh wanted us to deliver them to the jewelers on our route.”

“I can’t carry all that, woman,”
Max objected.

“I’ve rented a buggy to haul our
gear. We can’t take taxis that far, and the only complete railroad line goes
from the spaceport to the iron range.” Other railways were being built by
prison labor camps.

“Yeah, but …”

“Problem?”

“I never learned how to drive,” he
whispered with embarrassment. “I came from a low-tech preserve where cars were
banned. When I was a medic in the Navy, my ambulance had a separate driver so I
could concentrate on the patient. While hunting war criminals, the Turtles took
care of transport.”

Roz smiled. “I can fix and drive anything
with an engine, Doc. I think I can manage a few lessons.”

As Max rushed out to meet Reuben,
the receptionist said to Roz, “You make a nice couple.”

Her first instinct was to deny the
assumption, but then Roz decided it should be part of their cover for the trip.
“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. When a man settles
down, he finds a steady job and makes something of himself.”

Roz looked fondly at Max as he
wound his way through the bazaar. “He already is somebody. He just needs
someone to believe in him.” She left to catch up.

Reuben navigated customs with
skill. To prove that the cases were all free samples, he gave a couple bottles
of Eden table wine to the customs agent along with a business card.

When they returned to the dentist’s
office, Roz said, “That’s the slickest bribe I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a way of life where I come
from,” Reuben replied. “Government employees don’t get a regular paycheck.
Everyone has a price tag.”

Roz remembered what Ivy had told
her about the Banker network. “Still feels like I should be arresting you.”

Reuben smirked. “I like handcuffs.”

As Roz opened the office door, Max
cuffed him in the back of the head.

“Ouch.”

“There’s a lady present.”

Roz giggled, something she hadn’t done
in almost twenty-five years.

Reuben went on his way, hauling the
hand truck full of cargo.

After the dentist completed his
work, the receptionist gave Roz a receipt and a card. Inside was a certificate
for free ice creams at an orbital dessert shop. “A gift. I know what it’s like
to be a young couple starting with nothing.”

Roz read the older receptionist’s
nametag. “I don’t know what to say, Hettie. Thank you.”

As Max stepped out to join her, he
asked, “You okay? You look a little sad and misty.”

“Hmm. Just someone restoring my
faith in humanity. Now that your teeth are fixed, I want to take you to try
something.”

****

Max was reluctant to try the frozen treat at first, but Roz
coaxed him into visiting Just Desserts. The proprietor brought over a banana
split for each of them, with three flavors and three toppings each. The candy
toppings had been 3D printed into shapes of stars, rainbows, and hearts. “Wow,”
Max said. “You folks do this up right.”

“Call me Herb.” He had graying,
slicked-back hair, glasses, and a large smock covering a stocky frame. “My wife
likes to show off her gourmet training. Ladies like the extra touch of
elegance.”

“So why is this place so
deserted
?”
asked Max.

Herb shook his finger at the pun. “The
novelty has worn thin. Nobody wants cold stuff in space.”

She could detect an Anodyne accent,
which reminded her of her university days. After a single bite, Roz refused to
accept this excuse. “Really? You can tell us.”