Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (58 page)

“There are no ground stations here, Sir,”
Kadri corrected. “We’ll be assigned to what they call a free port.
A pilot ship has just picked us up. Their ident checks out, I’m
sending their signal to the helm now.”

“Thank you Kadri,” Captain Valent replied.

The transit through orbital space was brisk
and surprisingly straight considering the thousands of ships in
holding patterns. There were heavy haulers, hundreds of different
visi battleships running patrols, smaller fighting ships from every
nearby government, more independent ships than any of them could
count, and a smattering of other ships mixed in. Before they knew
it, they were passing through the atmosphere, and Captain Valent
was back in control.

The navigational system changed to reflect
the fact that they were in atmosphere and Ashley began feeding Jake
information. She couldn’t help but spare a few glances at the
landscape beneath. Shards, spires and slivers of glass were lit by
soft golden light as they reached for the heavens. “Why don’t they
break?” asked Clara from over her shoulder.

“They do, but not easily. They’re
biological, roughly translating into amber trees,” Agameg informed
them.

“Those are trees?” asked Ashley in
amazement.

“Sort of. The plants excrete sticky fluid to
catch insects. The sap hardens and they keep growing up instead of
out because of the low gravity. It’s a small world, so it only has
point seven six gees.”

Ashley marked their landing spot, a small
patch in a large, flat section of ground. There were dozens of tall
structures, most of them marked as habitats and military buildings.
They were built to imitate the forest surrounding them. She
selected a safe route for approach and nodded in satisfaction as it
appeared in front of Jake. “This looks like it’ll be more
interesting than I thought,” she commented.

“Oh, don’t count on it,” Kadri chuckled.
“Most of this planet is swamp. You know the sap those trees are
made of? It’s everywhere. I’m not leaving the ship.”

* * *

“Next time, I listen to Kadri,” Ashley said
as she expanded her vacsuit until it covered everything up to the
neck. “The ground’s sticky, the air’s tacky, even the smell sticks
to the back of my throat. It’s like syrup without the sweet.”

“I told you,” Stephanie said as she watched
the vacsuit expand under Ashley’s mini-dress. Her suit was so
tightly fitted that that she still drew attention. The dress was
almost too short, and had a brave neckline that pointed down. The
vacsuit beneath hid skin tone, but it did nothing to hide shape.
“The sun might be good for regular clothes, but she said this whole
continent is some kind of sap marsh.”

“I was hoping to gather some intelligence,”
Ashley whispered.

“How so?”

“Booty trap.” Ashley smiled.

“Really? Here?” Stephanie asked, hushed.

“It’s a big port, law doesn’t seem to care
about what we do much, not enough to make sure info piracy doesn’t
happen anyway, and every second ship has a different corporate logo
on it. Maybe even more,” Ashley explained. “Besides, I don’t feel
like I’m contributing enough.”

“You’re the lead pilot, you manage all the
other pilots who take the helm of the Warlord,” Stephanie
countered.

“You mean Clara? Our navigators? Other than
some training, they’re easy. The only other pilot who takes the
Warlord’s controls is Captain, and well…” She rolled her eyes. “I
wouldn’t try to manage him. Even while we were rebuilding the
Warlord I felt like I was dragging my butt. I was either carrying
stuff around, running cable, or painting. Brainless work.”

“You’re not that kind of specialist, you
worked harder than anyone expected you to. They couldn’t see it
while we were hidden, but those records are out, and everyone’s
seeing who got things done, and who dragged their butts,” Stephanie
replied. “What did you paint, though? I haven’t gotten a chance to
check it out.”

“Oh, it was this great decal I was going to
put behind the ship’s name when we were done. A beefy screaming
warrior with long hair, based on the story I read when I looked up
the ship’s name after joining up,” Ashley replied, pointing to the
side of the ship, where most of the workers and technicians worked
at cutting ports and guns free from the bonds that formed when they
expanded their ergranian hull.

“Then Captain changed the name,” Stephanie
said. “Too bad, that might have been good on the side of the
ship.”

“I rolled it up and scoonched it in under my
bunk. Maybe we can put it up inside the ship if there’s a spot
later. Anyway, if I can gather some intelligence at one of the bars
that were on the port notice, then I’ll really be doing my part,”
Ashley argued. “Besides, you’ll be watching.”

“From a distance.” Stephanie looked Ashley
up and down.

Ashley smiled and winked alluringly.
“Irresistible even with the vacsuit?”

“Your looks aren’t what worry me,” Stephanie
replied. “This just isn’t the safest place for you to give it a
try. We don’t know the terrain or the people, aside from Berkovitz.
I know there are people here who know who we are and what we’re
worth to the Order. I don’t want you caught out in the open if
someone has the stones to start something.”

“Here? I bet more people would take
Captain’s side. I’d have plenty of time to duck while you guys sort
it out. Besides, it’s not like I’m one of the standouts on the
crew, and I’ll never get caught. I’m using a passive hand scanner
hidden in the glove of my vacsuit,” Ashley said, holding up her
palm. “It’s that old ‘by touch’ style so no one will be able to
tell I’m collecting data. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“All right, but if it looks too dangerous or
starts to go bad,” Stephanie warned.

“I’ll back off and let you watch over me,”
Ashley promised. “No problem.” As a final touch she shifted the
colour of her vacsuit to a more complimentary shade of light
purple, to match her dark blue mini-dress.

The rear hold of the Warlord opened to
reveal the confiscated weaponry that had been stored on the Triton
weeks before in the Enreega system. The variety of gear was already
laid out for display. A whole squad of Warlord marines took their
places to stand guard as Frost, Agameg, and a few other crewmen
finished preparations. To one side, David and a couple of other
mechanics sprayed a sign that read QUICK WEAPON REPAIR.

Captain Valent spoke to a pair of
heavily-armoured visi and he handed one of them a palm-sized
currency case. The sealed suits were sleek, with broad backs but
unnaturally thin middles. Their arms weren’t anchored at the
shoulders like a human’s, but seemed to drift from their midsection
to the base of their necks at will. Across the surface of their
chests lettering and shapes scrolled. Ashley tried to use the
translator built into her small necklace comm but found herself
bombarded with:
SLIP 2118 - SELLING MUURISH HOUNDS : PLATFORM
0672 NOW READY TO PERFORM MINOR STARSHIP REPAIRS & DETAILING :
SLIP 9244 - KAWAII BRAND! FULL HOLD! : SLIP 0412 - HULL & EQUIP
OF SM HAULER AUCTION, BID BEFORE IT SINKS : SLIP 0009 - USED SKIDS-
LOW ALTITUDE, LOW PRICES, HIGH SPEED!… and so on.

After a moment Ashley realized that
Stephanie was staring at her with an amused smile. “How’s the new
comm, Ash?”

“Cheap, but it’s working,” she replied as
she stopped the translation. “I was wondering, how does it send
images into my eyes without me looking at it?”

“It bounces a beam off something nearby,”
Frost said as he joined them. “Still looking to do some shopping?
You’re going to get some deals, dressed like that.”

“Nice,” Stephanie said. “In front of your
significant other, you’re eye-groping a girl half your age. Good
luck getting at my undercarriage when our quarters are ready.”

“A compliment! Just acknowledging the work
that goes into looking good,” Frost protested. “Harmless, right,
Ash?”

“From someone else, maybe,” Ashley replied.
“And Steph’s right, your timing stinks.”

“Can’t win,” Frost said. “I should just stay
back and sell guns.”

Ashley had seen ports without retail
regulation before, but compared to Hodria they were orderly and
small. The slips were all separated by a distinct lane of packed
and hardened dirt. All the ships she could see in either direction
had opened their holds to reveal a seemingly infinite variety of
articles. The sounds of patrons moving from shop to shop nearly
drowned out the droning of larger surface transport vehicles
running down a road ten metres behind the Warlord.

The Warlord was seeing her first customers.
The half-dozen crewmen at the weapons’ table were busy, and before
long the security squad had their rifles raised, pointed at anyone
who touched a weapon on the table. “Load it at the table and you
get slagged!” Frost shouted as he hurriedly returned to the
Warlord’s smaller rear hold. Captain Valent watched from the
laneway near the open hatch with the visi guards at his side. To
Ashley’s surprise, they did absolutely nothing as one of their
customers broke from the crowd with an ill-gotten handgun in his
hands.

“Shoot him,” Stephanie ordered calmly.

One of the Warlord’s marines fired three
rounds into his back. A crewman ran forward, snatched the weapon,
and walked back to the Warlord’s hold. Ashley could only stare in
shock as the visi soldiers walked to the groaning thief on the
ground, yanked his belt and backpack off then emptied his pockets.
When all the thief’s articles were collected, they offered them to
Captain Valent who shook his head. “Consider it a tip.”

A small, dented hover bot descended from
above the crowds and scanned the thief. It turned to the visi
guards and shook its round body while making several distorted
grunt noises. “He’ll live with medical support, but the ship he’s
registered to left nine days ago,” translated Ashley’s comm through
text beamed into her eyes.

“Is the ship scheduled to return?” asked one
of the guards in a guttural grunt and wheeze language.

“No,” answered the round robot.

“Feed him to the luzeet,” ordered one of the
guards.

Two thin tendrils extended out of the sides
of the hover bot and wrapped around the unconscious man. The bot
swept him up as it flew over the Warlord to the nearest glassy
spire, where it pressed his back against the sticky surface.
Ashley’s jaw dropped in shock and alarm. The bot bumped the man in
the chest to ensure that he was well and truly stuck before zipping
off to some other business.

“Is it putting him there for safe-keeping?”
she asked Stephanie, knowing that it was an unlikely possibility,
but hoping she was right.

“I don’t think you’ll want to watch,”
Stephanie replied. “But I’m just guessing.”

Before her eyes a whip thin, vein-like
tendril grew through the inside of the hardened sap towards the
thief. Ashley glanced at Stephanie, who was still watching, and
looked back to the man in time to see him jerk as though he had
been struck in the back. Suddenly he was awake, struggling
frantically. The crowd around them drowned out whatever sounds the
man might be making, but Ashley’s imagination filled in the rest.
The thin vein stretching up through the hardened sap turned red
from the tip down towards the base as the thief screamed. She
looked away when she realized she was watching him being
drained.

“So we’re settled in?” Captain Valent asked
the visi guards.

“You have paid us in full, yes. The duration
of your stay does not match your stock level, however. I expect
your guns to be gone in an hour. It seems like a waste of GC,” the
guard replied. Ashley read their side of the conversation as it was
translated.

“We have other business here,” Captain
Valent replied.

“Good luck,” the guards said before walking
off casually.

“Frost,” Captain Valent spoke into his comm.
“Slip fees came out to fifteen thou. Double your prices.”

There was barely a second’s delay before
Frost could be heard over the crowd. “Introductory stock is gone!
Bringing out the real gear! Come get it!”

“Did you guys do this a lot before?” Ashley
asked. “And what’s with the introductory stock?”

“It’s a trick,” Stephanie replied. “They
sell the standard stuff off for fair prices then break out the rest
at four times the going rate.”

“Eight times,” Captain Valent chuckled. A
few customers were walking away from the Warlord’s hold,
complaining bitterly. Twice as many were on their way in, however.
“The demand for weaponry here is so high he thinks he’ll be out in
fifteen minutes. It’s David and the other machinists that’ll
probably be busy for the next eight hours.”

“Fixing guns,” Ashley finished.

“Really good gig,” Stephanie said. “They get
a quarter of the take on repairs, it’s going to be a nice payday
for the machinists who are lucky enough to be off duty.”

“Big demand for that here, too,” Captain
Valent replied. “Speaking of which.” He pulled a gun belt and
sidearm from a large bag and hitched it around Ashley’s hips.

It was the ceramic shell pistol and bullet
belt she’d used on the Triton. “I don’t want to carry,” she
objected in a whisper. “It’ll screw up the lines of my dress.” She
noticed that most of the shells had been exchanged for red and
brown versions. Ashely wasn’t entirely sure what they did, but knew
they were lethal.

“All but two of your shells are still
bursters and web rounds, but David painted them so they look like
incendiary and shaped charge rounds,” Captain Valent said. “These
two at the sides? They’re real. If you hit someone in full combat
armour you’ll punch a hole the size of your fist straight
through.”

“I’m not a killer,” Ashley objected.
“Besides, I’ll be with Stephanie and two of her security people all
the time.”