To Honor You Call Us (45 page)

As the Captain was droning on, he opened a small locker near the Commander’s station as if to pull out a holocube.  What came out of the locker, though, was decidedly not an image of a beach cottage.  Just as he accelerated his motion to bring the object to bear, two sharp reports rang out, accompanied by the sudden appearance of two roughly 11.5 millimeter circles in the center of his forehead and an explosion of bone and brain matter from the back of his skull.  As the man fell to the floor, all eyes turned in the direction of the two shots.

There, in his garish faux uniform, stood Doctor Ibrahim Sahin holding a smoking M-1911 in a two-handed combat grip, with a look on his face that could almost be characterized as embarrassment.  By this time the Marines had the other crew members covered with shotguns and Major Kraft was taking a small black pistol from the dead man’s hand.  “CZ 535, nine millimeter, made on Bravo.  Good little pistol, actually.  Good thing you had the drop on him, Doctor.”  He peered at the dead man’s forehead.  “Nice grouping, by the way.  You could cover both entry wounds with a one credit coin.”

“Without meaning any insult to you, Major, I decline to accept the compliment, I’m afraid.  I take pride in saving lives, not taking them.”

“No insult taken, no insult at all.  Merely admiring a thing done well.”  He turned to two of his men.  “Bind these two, and take them across to the
Cumberland
.”  To two others, “Zamora and Ulmer, you two search the rest of the ship.  Be careful.”  He turned back to the dead man.  “Doctor, what was it that tipped you off?  I had a vague feeling that these people were not what they said they were, but I can tell you were certain they were lying.”

“Quite simple, really.  His ID cube said he was from New Zarahemia.  What do you know about that world?  Do you recognize the significance of the name?”

“Only that a lot of freighter crews come from there and that if a man from there is under your command in the Corps you generally don’t have to worry about him being a drunk or a tranker.  I have no idea where the name comes from.”

“Aaah.  Well, it appears that you and our friends here share the same—apparently quite widespread—ignorance.  Zarahemia is the name of a City and a Republic mentioned in the Book of Mormon, the defining religious text or Gospel for the members of that faith.  New Zarahemia takes its name from there, as it was settled by an expedition funded by the Mormon, or LDS Church as they call themselves, and, to this day, virtually every resident of the planet is an adherent of that faith.  The first name “Brigham” is also very rare except among Mormons.  Do you know anything about the Mormons, Major?”

“Very little, I’m afraid.  I suspect I’m about to learn, though.”

The doctor smiled.  “I will try to keep my exposition short.  For our purposes you need know only a few things.  First, their beliefs include a requirement that they wear at all times a highly characteristic type of undergarment as a constant reminder of their promises to God, somewhat akin to the wearing of a
yarmulke
or
kippah
by orthodox Jews, although the precise theological bases for the two are distinct.  Our late Captain here, as I could see from the way he was wearing his uniform, was clearly not wearing those garments.  You see, I am quite familiar with their appearance as a physician who, from time to time, examines members of that faith. 

“Second, the Latter Day Saints strictly avoid consumption of coffee or other stimulants.  As you can see, there are two coffee cups of coffee on this bridge.  Third, their religion teaches them, quite accurately I might add from a purely secular perspective, that tobacco is not fit for human consumption.  The woman had a pack of cigarettes among her effects.  On top of that, not only did they not know the tenets of the faith to which they purported to adhere, they were profoundly ignorant of the very world from which they said they came.  Our supposed Captain waxed eloquent about all the time he spent on the beautiful beaches of his planet when, according to every text and guidebook, the world is characterized by a remarkable absence of beaches.  Their unfortunate geology is such that the land masses rise from the ocean so steeply that continent and sea generally meet in towering cliffs and jagged rocks.  All of their seaports are either artificial harbors created by building jetties and wharfs that extend from the land or by dredging rivers far inland to where the water level is closer to the elevation of the land mass, which makes him a liar, and a bad one at that.  I am afraid that my recognition of that fact must have shown on my face, so Mr. Johnson, whatever his name really is, was reaching for his pistol, thinking he might be able to take the boarding party hostage and convince our people to let him go.  Remember, he thought I was the Captain and, accordingly, believed that if he held me he might have some bargaining power.”

Kraft nodded his head in admiration.  “At any rate, Doctor, you thwarted that plan.  Let us see what Zamora and Ulmer found in their search and let our real Captain know that the vessel is secure so that he can send over a prize crew. 

***

“Major Kraft says you double tapped that freighter captain like a Special Forces Commando.”

“I have used the Model 1911 since boyhood.  I believe it to be the best fighting handgun ever fashioned by human hands and I am very comfortable with it, which is why I had it with me instead of the usual sidearm for the Romanovans.  I did a bit of research and found that some Romanovan officers carry that weapon, so I decided to bring with me what I knew.”

“Always a wise decision when it comes to something on which you may be staking your life.”

The two men were sharing another companionable dinner in Max’s Day Cabin, this one decidedly tastier than the last.  The entrée had been shrimp étouffée, served alongside various fresh-frozen vegetables, and the usual fresh bread.  All topped off with apple pie made with fresh apples. 

“What of those other two we took off the freighter, the younger man and the cigarette smoking woman?” asked Sahin.

“They are both neutrals, it turns out.  The whole crew was from Hibernia.  I put them aboard the prize and sent it back to Lovell Station.  Since they aren’t our citizens, we don’t have jurisdiction over them, although we do get the ship.  They will be turned over to the Igandii authorities, who Major Kraft tells me
do
have authority to try them under something called ‘Jurisdiction by Estoppel.’”

“I’m certain I have never heard of it.”

“It’s a great thing—perfect justice all the way around,” Max said.  “You see, if that ship had actually been Igandii, those two would have been under Igandii jurisdiction, pure and simple.”

“That is fundamental.  But, the ship wasn’t Igandii, in reality.  It had no true registry.”

“Exactly.  Here’s the part I really like.  When they get hauled before an Igandii court, and they try to say that there is no Igandii jurisdiction because the ship wasn’t really Igandii, the Igandii get to say, ‘but you
said
you were an Igandii ship and tried to pass yourself off as one.  So, because you said that you were Igandii on that prior occasion, the law will not allow you to say now that you are not.  They are, as the lawyers say, ‘estopped’ from being able to claim that there is no jurisdiction.  Don’t you see the beauty of it?  They are branded with their own lie, hung with their own rope, hoist on their own petard.  Sometimes, the law can be a glorious thing.  Not usually, you understand, not usually at all but, in this case, glorious. 

“In any event, the Igandii take a dim view of those who falsely claim to be navigating under their flag.  These two won’t be executed, but they will spend several years in an Igandii prison, and the Igandii don’t provide much in the way of luxuries in their correctional facilities.”

“What do the Igandii regard as a luxury, pray tell?” asked the doctor.

“Oh, things like . . . beds.”

“Alas, it can be a brutal galaxy.”

“It sure can.  Although a good dinner can take the edge off the brutality.  And, there is at least some good news about the capture.”

“You are speaking on the subject of prize money?”

“One of my favorite subjects.  This little freighter wasn’t carrying gold but she wasn’t carrying potting soil, either.”

“And what exactly was the cargo.”

“Bearings.”

“Bearings?  You mean those little metal balls that they used to put in machinery before suspensive magnetic interfaces?”

“There’s no ‘used to’ about it in the Navy, Bram.  If you fill a spacecraft full of suspensive magnetic interfaces you fill a spacecraft full of electromagnetic fields—fields that radiate into the surrounding space where they can be detected by the enemy.  Naval vessels still use bearings.  Lots and lots of bearings.  There are probably half a million bearings of fifteen or twenty different sizes on this ship alone, maybe more.  Werner could tell you exactly.  And not only do we use lots of bearings, but they are precision-manufactured, super hard, high temperature resistant, low friction, anti-magnetic, static dissipating, all sorts of other exotic properties.  All of our bearings come from a small number of factories on Earth, Bravo, and Neue Prussen.  God only knows where the Krag make theirs, but there are a few worlds in the Free Corridor that manufacture bearings to naval specifications, and one of them is Rashid V C, a moon in the same system as Rashid IV.  Started as a mining colony, easy access to the rare earths and special metals used in these things, you know the drill. 

“So, this freighter is stuffed to the brim with the highest quality precision bearings made to naval specifications, and all that.  Worth a small fortune.  Our share of their value will be a nice bit of change, as will the value of the freighter.  And, the loss of those bearings is will cut into Krag warship production in a big way.  We captured enough bearings to equip dozens of vessels. Maybe as many as a hundred.  This is almost a big a blow to them as seizing all that gold.”

“I never thought I would say something like this,” Sahin said, “but I am deriving a great deal of satisfaction from my small role in setting back the enemy’s war effort.”

“It’s a good feeling, no doubt about it.  And you’re role is not small, either.  Like how you figured out those freighter rats were lying to you.  There’s not a man on board who would have sniffed out that lie the way you did.  Major Kraft says it was a very nice piece of observation and deduction.”

“Thank you.  It helps that I have a rather broad knowledge of the beliefs of many different faiths.  It put me right onto the deception.  It was clear to me that these people were by no means Mormons.”

“I don’t know much about them, save what was in your report.  But, right now, I wish we had a ship full of them.”

“Why is that?” the doctor asked.

“Not only would it leave more coffee for you and me, if we had a ship full of Mormons we wouldn’t have to deal with this stinking drug problem, at least to this degree.  How are we doing on that?”

“Better, much better.  Most of the men who had the worst addictions and the worst reactions are through the most severe of their symptoms.  Everyone is now completely detoxified—that is, the drugs are out of their bodies.  They will still need medication and watching for some weeks, but very few experienced the really acute symptoms.  It helps that these men are in prime physical condition, all well nourished and hydrated, and that none of them are what we medically consider long-term users, that is, those who have been using these drugs for a period of years.  There are some who have underlying psychological issues that predisposed them to drug addiction, and they are in counseling.  At the end of this cruise, I may recommend that two or three be put into some more intensive treatment for a period of weeks before they are returned to duty, but then again, I may not.  It depends on how they are doing at the time.  There is substantial therapeutic benefit to serving on this ship which is becoming a very supportive environment.”

“Outstanding.  A happy ship is the best medicine for everyone.  It is the cure to virtually every naval ill.”

“I am beginning to believe it.”

“It is a good thing, because I may need this crew to be at their best very soon.  There was something aboard that freighter that was much more interesting than its cargo of bearings.”

“There is something more interesting to you than another small fortune in prize money?”

“Oh, yes.  Very much so.  It seems that our freighter rats’ Krag masters had a schedule for them to keep—a very, very precise schedule.  They were to deliver their cargo to their rat-faced customers, take on a standard type two freight container from the Krag cruiser they were meeting—no telling what’s inside—and then go to the Pfelung system, coming through the jump within a three minute window.  Then, they were to cross the system to the Main Freight Transfer Facility, a kind of depot where ships swap cargo containers so that they make their way stage by stage to their destinations.  This one is one near the Charlie jump point.  The freighters are supposed to coordinate their approach with ten other freighters coming from other systems so that they are all docked at the Freight Transfer Facility at the same moment, as close as possible to eight twenty-three tomorrow.  I plan to be there.  We’ve already altered course.  I need to see what happens when they bring all those freighters together.”

“And why, pray tell, is that.  You certainly cannot intend to blow up all those freighters right there in Pfelung space.  It would be a gross violation of their neutrality.”