Rider Express

“That gantry over there,” Ajax said and pointed toward where hulls of smaller tonnage were being diverted. “Be happy the company is picking up the bill. Docking fees this close to the station are outrageous. There are some bigger asteroids a few orbits back that are set up as landing facilities. Cheapest parking in the whole system if you’re gonna be here a while.”

“How do we get from ship-to-station?” Ronald said as a SOLCorp shuttle sped past. They could see more ahead, darting about the gantries to fuel ships. “We don’t have a ship’s boat.”

“All the cargo and passenger transfers are done by shuttle,” Ajax said. “The syndicate is called Rider Express. They have big-time pull. The last time they had a work stoppage it shut the entire system down. As far as the station is concerned, the syndicate gets whatever they want.”

“If they get whatever they want, then why do they strike?”

Ajax shrugged and said, “Because they couldn’t then.”

***

The Rider Express shuttle transporting them from their docking gantry made hard-dock with the station and in less than a minute the loading hatch was open. The pilot went out first, climbing “up” a built-in ladder into gravity. A thin stationer wearing a TIL-tagged work suit waited on the arrival deck when Ajax reached the top of the ladder.

“Welcome to Horseman Station, gentlemen. Salutis,” He gave the station greeting that Ajax returned. “We are honored to have such noted guests from Earth. My name is Kal. You must be exhausted after your long journey.”

Ajax laughed and said, “I wish that were true. The truth is that all I could dream about in cold sleep is getting back to this station. We’re here, now can someone please tell me why we’re here?”

“Sorry to keep you in the dark but we couldn’t risk giving you this sensitive information while you were in Sol system. We know you wouldn’t have told anyone but these days an enemy has more ways of finding things out.”

“Apology accepted. Still, the points remains, I just spent two years on ice, that kind of time doesn’t come cheap. Why’s the company got us out here?”

“There was a saying I heard once that dates back to Old Earth- business is war- and there’s a war going on, but not the kind you’re used to. There are no guns involved, and people rarely die, but there’s a lot at stake.”

When the elevator arrived it was packed with riders in various hues of outlandish garb. The few that got off made just enough room for Team Extreme.

Kal pushed the button for one of the many restricted access rings. Once the elevator started moving again, he said, “Billions of credits, control of markets, millions of jobs, the success or failure of a company- any company- lies in its ability to stay ahead of the competition. You may not think that our company has much of that, we’re the third largest in the Northern Combine, but we’re tiny compared to SOLCorp, now there’s Transterran.”

Ajax shot a look over his shoulder as the elevator lurched and he was jostled. He’d just felt a hand slip in and out of his trouser pocket. “What does that have to do with us? We’re not even in the same business.”

“The place to discuss this is not here.”

***

Safe in the TIL corporate ring they could discuss more than pleasantries. With the exception of Ronald, the rest of Team Extreme had adjourned to the company canteen and were tucking into loaded trays with gusto. Ajax and Ronald sat across a table from their company guide, together in a sound-proof compartment.

“SOLCorp lost a lot of influence in the old EuroCon sphere when Transterran took over,” Kal said as Ajax quaffed soy-caff from a sippy cup. “There’s talk that Transterran is going to build its own fuel stations in systems it controls and cut SOLCorp out of the loop entirely.”

“How do we know that?” Ronald said. Kal paused and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. It took him a moment to decide how far back to begin.

“SOLCorp has an agent inside the Transterran home office. The agent is code-named Argent. It took ten years get him into place but he’s been paying dividends. The problem is that he can only get them out piecemeal. SOLCorp needs access to all the information Argent has been accumulating, even if it means taking him out.”

Ajax emptied the cup and said, “I don’t watch the business feed. Where’s their headquarters? How far is it from here?”

“Procyon, your old stomping grounds. That’s one of the reasons we brought you in on this. Transterran bought the company that got the cleanup contract after the Crisis and moved right in. In the last communiqué, Argent reported that he was digging for something that he considered to be very big. We’ve gotten nothing since.”

“Then why doesn’t SOLCorp get him out? Last time I heard, the SOLCorp station in the Procyon system is still operating.” Ajax said, already thinking of the things that could go wrong with the mission.

Kal shook his head. “Transterran has Octavia under total lockdown. Nobody dumps body waste unless they have approval. They’d never get him off-planet.”

“And this is where we come in.” Ronald said.

“And this is where you come in,” Kal confirmed. “Our company has been cooperating with SOLCorp since before you left Earth- unofficially, of course- otherwise Transterran would be watching us, too. For all we know they might be anyway.”

“So I’m supposed to run all the way to hell out to Octavia and find this guy?”

“His contract with SOLCorp is almost up. Argent laid out an exit plan for when the time came, it assumes that he’s been able to escape from Octavia. The rendezvous point is outside the Procyon system but within range of us here.”

“What system is it?” Ajax said.

“Wolf three-five-nine.”

“There’s nothing there, just a SOLCorp station, a red giant and some planetesimals. No air and no water. It’s a dead system.”

“If that’s what you think then it’s probably what Transterran thinks and it’ll be low on their search list, but it’s not quite the truth. According to Argent there’s a pirate base in system- small, definitely low-key. They’ve been using it to raid surrounding systems. Argent has a plan to infiltrate this base and await your arrival.”

“It doesn’t much nav experience to get to the middle of nowhere. Just send a few companies of security in. They’ll bring your boy out.”

“You are very cavalier with lives other than your own,” Kal softly corrected. “Although other means of making this extraction are available, it has been decided that it will be done by you in this manner. Just in case he couldn’t get away from Octavia.”

“It seems like an awful lot of trouble for one man.” Ronald said.

“Perhaps. But we are not in charge of deciding what that is. Someone decided that it was important enough you to haul Bonventure all the way out here. Director Cutter of the Security arm placed urgency on this endeavor. He came to lay out the specifics for it himself.”

“When was that?” Ajax said. “The last time I talked to him I got the impression that he was working someone else’s plan. This was his from the start?”

“I don’t know. I was just an associate then,” Kal said and pointed a long finger at Ajax. “You still have to make it happen.”

“How many years ago was that?” Ajax said. Kal shrugged.

“Seven, perhaps eight.”

Ajax felt his brow furrow as he was struck by an odd coincidence. He’d still been living on the station then. He and Cutter had probably passed each other in the Circle R bazaar as strangers.

“We’re loading a freighter full of goods for you to trade with if you need to,” Kal said. “She’s the Manchester Star. You’ll be coupled to her for the duration of the trip.”

“How much time do we have until we leave again?” Ronald said. The tremor at the corner of his eye foretold the coming of an epic intoxication. Centauri Brandy was potent, produced locally, and sold for thousands less than it did in Sol system.

“We’re sending a transport with you, just in case supplies become an issue. There are some goodies on board in case you have to trade with the natives. We included a company of security troops as well, just in case the natives get restless. The transport is still loading and won’t be ready to go for a few days. After that you can launch anytime.”

Ajax set his cup down and stood up. He’d heard enough. “Thanks for the soy. I have to get some shopping done,” He turned to Ronald. “If we don’t make it to the recreation decks before the change of shift, all the alco-halls will be filled up.”

“Christ and Allah! We better get going!”

Ajax agreed but added, “I have to make a stop first.”

***

Hand lasers were quiet, effective weapons but were only good if the targets didn’t know they were being lased. Burn-through sometimes took as long as 10 seconds. A touch of 3cm laser was the worst sunburn ever times 20. Ajax knew a place he could get one.

Circle R bazaar took up a full third of the outer ring on three decks and boasted the most square footage of any commercial zone on Horseman Station. Megacorps had outlet kiosks installed in retail strips on each deck, but anyone with something to sell could put down a blanket and display their wares, anything could be had with a little luck.

“Rule number one around here is never take the first offer,” Ajax said as he, Ronald, and the self-proclaimed “Team Extreme” explored. Megacorps were relied on to provide the basics via their kiosks. “Only desperate suckers take the first offer. You have to be polite when you negotiate a price. If you’re rude they won’t deal with you and suddenly the thing you had to have is sold to someone else. You get people who are desperate to sell and they’ll take whatever you offer them. What they got is usually hot, which means that if you plan on keeping it, you get it off the station before you get burned.”

“Excuse me, sir,” The smallest of the group said and raised his hand. There was Ronnie, Roy, Harvey, Kirtland, Big Norm and Little Norm, both were engine specialists, and like many of his “tech squad,” Little Norm had his data-pad out and was recording notes. “But rule number one is Product, People, Profit. It states that very clearly in the TIL employee handbook,” He removed the handbook in question from a cargo pocket and opened it to a tab. A finger traced down lines of text. He looked up and nodded. “Very clearly.”

“You use this for the office,” Ajax said as he took the handbook and clapped it shut. He waved it in Little Norm’s confused-looking face and handed it back. “This is the jungle, we have to learn a set of new rules. Rule number two is don’t wander off with anyone you don’t know. The hustlers around here can smell new meat from the other side of the station, that’s you. All they want is what you got. If you put up a fight they send you out an airlock. These people are not polite, and if you mess with them, they will fork you up.”

He stopped at an ornate blanket with piles of folded, handmade clothes and several weapons displayed. A female attendant in Sun-tribal drapes leaned against the bulkhead. Beside her were two pistols, both slug throwers, appearing to be in good repair. Ajax sighed as he met the attendants dark eyes and shook his head. They were unsuitable. A bullet from one of them might cause a hull breach. The penalty for that crime was a flush out the nearest airlock.

“I wonder how you got along so well, old man,” Ronald said and wrinkled his nose. The station and its inhabitants had a particular funk. Public showers cost 50 credits, the price of two good meals, and more than a few stationers they’d passed had been neglecting proper hygiene. “I think I’d go crazy if I had to stay here.”

“There were people here I knew I could trust,” Ajax said and frowned as he thought of Flick. “I was in my own little world. I’d go out for a year or two and come back. The people I knew would be right where I left them. Nothing would change. In hindsight I guess some things did. The station got bigger.”

The people inside the bazaar were likely one of three common station-types. Ajax let his eyes trap those of a woman coming toward him. She had light skin and was dressed in the hajib of a merchant-nomad family. The paternals would exchange what they could on the station for fuel, necessities, and cheap goods sold for more elsewhere. They were transients and always moved on.

“Excuse me, sir,” Little Norm said. Big Norm was tilted at the waist, muttering into Little Norm’s ear, shooting glances at Ajax from beneath his bottle-brush eyebrows. “How long did you stay last time you were here? The certainty exists that things have changed since then. We need to know what we should be prepared for.”

“He’s asking you to input some variables into the equation,” Ronald said and nodded in acknowledgment of Big Norm’s observation. “It’s all about the variables.”

“The manual states that when outside of company property we’re to keep our interactions with strangers brief,” Kirtland said, the tech for Bonventure’s automated systems and EVA expert. Ajax suppressed a twitch he felt building in the muscles beneath an eye. “Add variables to that and give us some output, please.”

Ajax took a deep, reinforcing breath and configured his mind to produce what little he knew of geek-speak. With them it was all about the smlecking manual. “Everything you ever learned about how to behave was written for life on Earth. From here on out you start re-learning. Remember your politeness. Do that and you can’t go wrong. If anyone is making you nervous, just tell me and I’ll take care of it. The security is tough here. They don’t mess around.”

Team Extreme visibly relaxed. Ajax gave the arms merchant his attention. Blazer was a division of Krupps Optics. The kiosk was manned by a professional who slouched against the counter, a company suit named Mace that Ajax knew from days past. Holo-forms of Blazer products rotated on vid-screens above and below him.

“What’s the horse of the day?” Ajax said as he stepped up in front of the kiosk. It was an old joke about the Four Horseman: death, famine, plague, war. The station had bouts of each one except the last. Despite its size, the station was a fragile thing. Everyone who lived inside followed a rigid code. Discharging a firearm causing a hull breach was punishable by spacesuit-less ejection from the nearest pressure lock.

“None you don’t already know,” Mace said and gave Ajax his practiced smile as his back straightened. “Salutis, senior Clean. It’s been ages.”

“I see you put another eight years on that ugly face of yours,” Ajax said and shook that hand that Mace offered. “When’s retirement?”

“Two more years and I transfer to the district headquarters on Pax,” He closed his eyes and put his head back as if dreaming. “Nothing but sweet air, sunshine, and deeply tanned Pax girls as far as the eye can see.”

“How’s your wife?” Ajax said and snickered as Mace frowned and let his head fall forward. The bubble had burst. “Do you still raze her legs?”

“Can I help you?” Mace said. Ajax turned to see Team Extreme grouped behind him, watching the exchange intensely. They went into a huddle around Ronald, each one whispering his response in turn, then Ronald stepped forward.
“No, thank you.” He said and stepped back.

“What about you?” Mace said toward Ajax, who was directing his gaze downward. The cheap models were on the lower screen.

“Tell me about the L-12.”

“It fits easily into your pocket and is ideal for self defense. It runs on a rechargeable power cell with enough output to produce a three centimeter beam for thirty seconds. At four meters you’ll burn through an inch of steel in seven seconds. If you’re looking for self protection at longer ranges, I’d recommend the L-5.”

“How much is it?” Ajax said and lifted his head to scrutinize the L-5. A larger power cell bulked out the standard Krupps frame but would fit in his pocket. The wonderful thing about lasers was that they were effective and, especially, nearly silent… but they were only good if the target didn’t know it was being lased.

“For you, six hundred,” Mace said. “That’s less than cost but we go back.”

“Christ and Allah, how can you lie with such a straight face?” Ajax said with practiced indignation. “I ran into a Krupps rep in Sol system who told me what cost on the L series is. They make them in a factory around Ganymede- not even by hand- if you want to do me a favor then give it to me for two hundred.”

“Go talk to Sukhoi if you want something that cheap,” Mace said with the same outrage. “Two hundred will get you something that might give you a beam when you pull the trigger. If you want to bet your life on a price tag then be my guest. Five-fifty is as low as I can go, and that means I eat the station tax and get a call from our security office so they can tear me a new one for giving inventory away.”

“Like they need a reason to tear you a new one. You love it,” Ajax said with a smirk. “The customer is always right, now bend over, Mace.”

“It’s the company’s price not mine.”

“Rad-flush,” Ajax swore. “I know that is not the lowest price you’ve ever sold an L-five for. You’re trying to be a good corporate citizen, I understand, but don’t bullshit me, Mace. I’m looking for the baseline: battery, case, emitter. I don’t need any smlecking extra battery, warranty, or emitter guard so don’t try up-selling me. Give me the price for the no frills model.”

”Four-fifty.”

“Done,” Ajax said and pressed that amount into the card reader in front of him. A swipe of his TIL card accepted the debt from the Krupps computer. “Have it sent to the TIL office here under my name. How long’s that gonna take?”

Mace shrugged as he processed the order. “A few spins around the axis. If you’re still on Earth time then make it sometime in the next twenty-four hours,” He put his hand on his chin and went back to looking bored. “Nice doing business with you, Senior Clean. The power-pack will give you about two minutes of beam but it shuts down if it overheats. Read the manual.”

***

The place Ajax guided them into was a moldy, rusted pressure hatch next to a glowing LCD sign that identified the inside as the “Dock Inn Ring.” Its door slid open and he stepped through. The inside of the place was well lit; screens glowed inside vid-phone booths, as did small lamps were built into the bulkheads. Chief’s back on Earth was darker. Here the management liked to see goings on. When Team Extreme arrived, bodies occupying modular booths turned to appraise them.

Before he’d finished his first glass of Centauri distillate, a familiar face came through the entrance. Ajax smiled as he leaned against the bulkhead with his back to the hatch. Flick was still on-station. He thought for a moment of the dreams that had come to him in cold sleep and wondered how Flick would react when he found out he was a dead man.

Ajax stopped and looked toward a happy commotion coming from the auto-bar in the center of the compartment. Ronald was exhibiting his TIL card to the rest of Team Extreme. All they had to do was swipe it and they got drinks. Little Norm tried it to more cheers. Ajax started for the group when he noticed the girls working the house had slowly started circling. Without his intervention, Team Extreme would be stripped clean before the next shift-change.

***

UM-3/ Avalon

“It looks impressive, but how do we control the smlecking thing?” Kray said and looked up at the Enforcer head. The robot responded by looking down at him. “These are the civilian models. Mitsubishi hard-wired them against use of lethal force.”

“Keep moving.” The Enforcer synthesized a voice.

The robotics lab was set up in what was once an underground vehicle bay. Repeated bombardment from orbit had knocked large pieces of Fibrocrete out of the overhead but the place was fundamentally sound, engineers had assured them.