XANDER BRINDLE
At the Earth headquarters of Kett Shipping, Xander and Terry oversaw the repairs to the Verne so closely that they got in the way. When the company mechanics finally complained, Rlinda Kett pulled the two and their compy aside.
“You just let them do their work, boys,” she said. “I’m already doing you a favor by picking up the tab, but if my mechanics charge me overtime because you’re pests, I’ll take the surcharge out of your wages.”
Xander was embarrassed. “I just want to be sure my ship is taken care of properly.”
Rlinda put a beefy arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the repair hangar, while OK and Terry followed. “Don’t you worry, a good meal prepared by an excellent chef—by which I mean me—will take your mind off it.”
Terry brightened at the prospect.
Xander had already seen the repair schedule for the battered ship: roughly one third of the hull plates would need to be swapped out; two engines had to be repaired, one replaced entirely; whole electronics packages had been burned out; defensive weaponry was depleted and would need to be restored.
He had also seen the estimated bill. Some owners might have suggested simply scrapping the ship, taking whatever they could get for salvage, and buying an entirely new vessel. But this was the Verne, and Xander wouldn’t even consider that. When his parents returned from snooping around the Iswander ekti-extraction fields, he was sure they’d agree with his decision.
In her quarters in a habitation tower near Kett Shipping, Rlinda made them feel right at home. The compy stood at polite attention as she bustled about to “scrounge up” something to eat—which did not prove very difficult at all. “I only have desserts. Primarily pastries. I hope that’ll do.”
Terry was already licking his lips. “Anything special?”
“It’s all special, dear boy.” Rlinda put her hands on her generous hips. “The lightest, flakiest, cream-filled delights you could possibly imagine. Some of them are more frosting than substance—intentionally so.” She put a large plate of exotic pastries in front of him and Terry. “There’s even a delicate cream kringle with a hint of saffron.”
“Saffron.” Xander felt suddenly sad. “All that saffron. Maria left us half a ton of the stuff in her treasure vault on Ulio, but it’s all blown up by the damn robots and the Shana Rei.” He pictured the wondrous stockpile of valuables the old woman had stashed away for years and years. “Oh, you should’ve seen it, Rlinda. A museum and a treasure trove. You couldn’t imagine…”
“What I don’t want to imagine is you two being dead. You got away from Ulio Station when a lot of people didn’t. Be satisfied with that.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” He took a bite of the kringle, and explosive sweetness filled his mouth. “But Terry lost a fortune, an absolute fortune.”
His partner seemed much less bothered by the loss. “Once the Verne is repaired, I’ll have everything I want. A fortune would have been nice, yes, but I don’t dwell on it.”
“Well, I do!” Xander was upset that his partner was so aloof about the loss. “Not so we could have a decadent lifestyle—but we could have tried dozens of different treatments, ones that were always too expensive for you to consider before! I can’t believe there isn’t somebody who could fix your spinal damage, who could give you your legs back again.”
Terry’s expression fell, and he leaned over to clasp Xander’s forearm. “I haven’t been able to use my legs for so long I don’t even think about it anymore, and all the saffron and prisdiamonds and firegems in the Spiral Arm won’t make any difference.”
“But Maria had an even bigger fortune in her other accounts, and it just vanished, down in flames with the Ulio Central Offices.” He picked up another pastry and pushed it into his mouth as if it were a matter of self-defense. “All inaccessible to us now.”
Standing quietly in position, the compy startled them by speaking up. “The funds are not inaccessible so long as we have the account numbers, the routing codes, and the passwords.”
Xander sighed and licked confectioner’s sugar from his fingertips. “In other words, inaccessible. Maria had hundreds of account numbers and twenty-digit randomized passcodes. We wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
OK spoke up. “Not accurate, Xander. I have all of those codes. They were displayed on the Central Office screens at Ulio Station.”
“We didn’t have time to input them before the shadows attacked,” Terry said. “The accounts are locked.”
“But I recorded all of the data. I have complete recall of every single number displayed on that screen,” the compy said. “We can access the accounts as soon as I connect to the Confederation banking system networks.”
Xander caught his breath. “You’re kidding.”
“No, Xander. If I were kidding, I would establish the basis for humor more clearly.”
Terry stared, oblivious to the frosting around his mouth. “You have the account numbers for all that money?”
“It is your money, Terry Handon.”
Rlinda let out an explosive laugh, but Terry remained astonished. “Why didn’t you say so, OK?”
“I did not realize it was a concern. You expressed dismay that all of the tangible assets, such as the saffron and prisdiamonds, were destroyed, and I could do nothing about that. Now the Verne is being repaired, and since Rlinda Kett is paying to fix our ship, I did not realize that the lack of money caused you distress. I apologize that I did not give this greater priority.”
Xander sprang to his feet and wrapped his arms around the compy. “I should never underestimate you, OK!” Now he could start the long process of searching for medical help for Terry, without worrying a whit about the cost.
“Thank you, Xander,” the compy said.
Rlinda couldn’t stop laughing. “This changes everything. Most importantly”—she pointed a stern finger at the two young men—“now you can pay for your own damn repairs.”