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“Fighting usually gives me an appetite, but this is ridiculous for the amount I actually did. No wonder you swabbies get fat in shipboard billets,” Decker commented around a mouthful of vat-grown beef. “What now?”
“I have us programmed to emerge in interstellar space. When we get there, and the coast is clear, I’ll reprogram the identification beacon. While I do that, you get to go outside and shift some of the hull panels to change our silhouette.”
“And change the markings,” he added before shoving another forkful into his mouth. “Great times will be had by all.”
“Then I’ve got to think of our next steps. I was hoping someone on Kilia might help us trace the Garonne rebels’ suppliers, so we could work our way to whoever’s behind the funding, but that’s no longer an option.”
“We might find it just as challenging wherever we go. Considering they had goons breathing down the chandler’s neck, I’m not sure we’ll get lucky anywhere else along the Rim.”
“That leaves me wondering whether there’s still a leak at HQ or whether some people are just extra paranoid, and I don’t necessarily mean about the things we’re after. The Jackals might be in the Sécurité Spéciale’s pockets, but that doesn’t mean they’re not running their own operations. I can’t see government work, even if it’s for the SecGen’s pet spies, paying enough.”
“What kind of a universe is this anyways,” he replied, picking a strand of meat from his teeth, “when honest gangsters get in bed with the secret police? At least the Shrehari have enough honor to blow themselves up. I’ll take boneheads over mobsters any day.”
“You mean take on, don’t you?”
“That too.” He burped contentedly. “How long is this leg?”
“About ten hours.”
“That means I have time for a nice cold one.”
“I’ll join you. It might help me figure out our next move.”
“Good plan. It always helps with my moves.” He leered at her, then he reached into the cold box and grabbed two bottles.
“I’ll bet, you incorrigible lecher.”
“Ever heard the one about the hooker and the Marine?”
“Yes, and I don’t want to hear it again. Thanks,” she said accepting a bottle. “Hanging around with you is giving me some atrocious habits. I used to hate this stuff.”
“Honey, hang around with me long enough, and I’ll make you love just about anything.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She raised her bottle. “Congratulations, Zack. That was a half-decent Q-ship surprise you pulled on the Shrehari, for a Marine, I mean.”
“I’ll let Admiral Dunmoore know next time we’re on Caledonia. Mud in your eye, swabbie.” He took a healthy swig and sighed. “The water of life, this stuff.”
**
“Fun, fun, fun,” Decker muttered under his breath, shuffling out the aft airlock. Magnetic soles under his pressure suit boots made the spacewalk feel like a slog through a thick mire.
“What was that?” The radio crackled in his ears.
“Nothing you need to worry about. Just make sure you don’t accidentally go FTL while I’m outside.”
“If I go FTL while you’re outside, it won’t be by accident.”
“Nice to know you’ve got my back.” He crept up the hull towards the superstructure where shifting a few panels would make a noticeable change to the ship’s silhouette.
“Why is it me who gets to do the hard work anyway?” He asked, contemplating the first piece of the camouflage puzzle.
“Remember when this ship was still a floating brothel? Remember the mirror on the deckhead in the main stateroom?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember seeing us side by side in bed, in our birthday suits?”
“Of course. Good times.”
“Then I’m sure you didn’t fail to notice the size and musculature differences between us. Big boys get to do big boy jobs.”
“Sexist.”
“I also outrank you.”
“Hierarchist.”
He attached a handling frame to the first panel and released the clamps holding it to the hull.
“That’s not actually a word,” she replied.
“It is now.” He shifted the panel and re-attached it to the hull. “One down.”
“Ah yes, the famous Decker dictionary. In case you care, we’re no longer transmitting an ID beacon.”
“Lovely.” He wrestled with the second panel. “It’s a fine thing we’re doing this out here in space and not on anything with a gravity pull.”
“I’m sure you’d have been able to manage.”
“Maybe, but I’d have added a few new swear words to the Decker dictionary.”
“Don’t hold back now on my account.”
“When I feel the need to curse, you’ll be the first to know. Two down.”
He shuffled backward and stared at the star-filled darkness above the curvature of the hull, feeling unaccountably drawn in by the abyss.
“Zack,” Hera’s voice snapped him out of his contemplation, “is everything alright? You went strangely silent there for a moment.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I'm all right, but I think the universe just reminded me how small and petty my life actually is.”
“EVA has that effect on a lot of people.”
He attached the handling frame to the third panel and continued working in silence until Chimera looked just different enough to fool most people, if not all algorithms.
“Done with the hull plates,” he announced, wishing he could wipe his brow. And scratch his nose. He suddenly had an urgent need to scratch his nose.
“Got the new marking overlays ready?”
“Sitting in the airlock,” she replied.
“Fun, fun, fun,” he muttered again, making his way back down the hull to the open hatch, where he found several large self-adhering carbon fiber sheets, rolled up and tucked into a bag. He stowed the now folded handling frame in the airlock and clipped the bag to his utility belt before shuffling out onto the hull again, this time across a short pylon to the starboard hyperdrive nacelle.
He carefully unrolled the first of the sheets and aligned it to the marks on the side of the housing. Taking a rod from the bag, he ran it over the edge, activating nanites that bonded the new nameplate and registration number over the old one.
After a long, slow walk back onto the hull, over it and out on the port hyperdrive nacelle, he had the markings in place.
“Done. You want to send out a drone to check that it looks right?”
The itch on the tip of his nose was back with a vengeance.
“Sure. Give me a second.”
Decker returned to the airlock where he found a small basketball-sized spacecraft waiting. He picked it up and pushed it out into space, where its tiny thrusters kicked in under Talyn’s control from the bridge. It vanished from his sight for a few minutes, then hovered just outside the airlock again, waiting for him to reach out and grab it.
“The markings look good, Zack. Well done.”
“Let’s just get this airlock cycled so I can get out of the suit.”
“Nose itching?” She asked, sounding deliberately mischievous.
“Like a son of a bitch. And I desperately need a shower too.”
The outer hatch slammed shut, air hissed into the tiny compartment, and soon enough, the inner hatch swung open to Talyn’s ironic grin.
“Welcome aboard Phoenix, Ser Whate. I’m Captain Pasek. Have you ever sailed with us before?”
“More often than I care to remember,” he replied, lifting the suit’s helmet over his head and handing it to her.
Scratching his nose had never felt so good.
“Come on, big boy. We need to give ourselves a makeover. The folks on Kilia Station might not circulate our portraits to the rest of the sketchy frontier tribes, but why take a chance?”
“Can I not have long hair this time? Feeling it on my ears bugs the crap out of me.”
“Sorry. The ID experts have decreed that long hair does a better job of turning you into not-Decker than short hair.”
**
He took a healthy swig from his bottle and sighed contentedly.
“So, now that I’m partially refueled, would you care to tell me what our next stop is going to be?”
“Andoth.”
She pulled two warmed up trays from the autochef and placed them on the table.
“Andoth?” Decker searched his memory for the vaguely familiar name. “Isn’t that the place they tried to turn into a prison colony after the war? Lasted maybe thirty years. All settlements are at the bottom of deep chasms because the air pressure at the surface is too weak. Lots of volcanic activity, etcetera, etcetera?”
“Got it in one. It’s a fairly nasty environment, with a single industry and no homesteading. Other than taxing the export of rare ores and gemstones, the central government doesn’t have much interest in the place. A miners’ consortium runs it with a passel of mercenaries for law and order.”
“About as frontier as it gets and still be within Commonwealth borders, eh?” Zack cocked a sardonic eyebrow. “We should fit right in.”
“A damn sight more dangerous than Kilia though, which may actually help.” She took a bite of her food and chewed slowly, eyes unfocused while she thought about their destination.
“The shipping brokers in a place like that are bound to be dabbling on the dark side, where organizations like rebel movements would look to hire. That being said, we might be better off to leave the ship in orbit and shuttle down to the surface when we get there.”
“Scared of flying down one of their chasms?”
“I’m more worried that I won’t be able to lift Phoenix out of there if things go sideways again.”
“Ah.” He nodded knowingly. “It would be pretty hard to scam our way into open space from ten kilometers below the surface.”
“Give yourself another drink, Marine Boy. You’re getting smart.”
“Must be the company I keep.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, once you’ve showered.”
“Promises, promises.” He drained his bottle and reached into the cooler for its successor. “I could really enjoy this lifestyle, you know.”
“Wait until we get to Andoth.”
“You going to let Ulrich know?” Decker took a sip and smacked his lips with pleasure.
“Can’t. No subspace array we can tap into within light-years. I’d rather not send anything via a commercial relay. Even if we encode it, someone could get the idea that we’re not cuddly space rogues.”
“Yup. Got to keep our street cred intact.” He burped loudly and smiled. “Almost as good coming up as it was going down.”
“You’re a pig, you know that?”
Decker’s sole reply was to blow his partner a big wet kiss.
**
“Cripes, and here I thought Nabhka looked depressing.” He shook his head in amazement. “Why do people insist on living in places that defy common sense?”
“The usual reasons,” Talyn replied, gently nudging Phoenix into a stable orbit, “greed, desire to get away from authority, looking for adventure.”
“Looking for insanity, more likely. I’m going to guess there’s no orbital control. The sensors aren’t picking up anything bigger than unmanned satellites, and precious few of those. No other ships in orbit either.”
“There’s not much for off-world visitors to see.”
“You’re still determined to leave the ship in orbit and shuttle down?”
“Sure.” She touched the controls one last time. “There. The AI has its instructions. Phoenix will be fine up here.”
“What if someone comes along, sees a nice oversized space yacht or undersized sloop, depending on how you look at it, and decides it would make a beautiful addition to their stable.”
“The AI will make sure no one can do that.”
“Seriously?” Decker didn’t hide his disbelief. “You’re supposed to be the professional paranoid, Hera. A ship without a crew can be taken, given enough time. The AI might be able to navigate hyperspace, keep a stable orbit, and do almost anything related to moving the thing, but it can’t fight properly. I can think of three dozen ways to take it in my sleep.”
“You can, but then you’ve trained for it and done it for real often enough. The average pirate isn’t quite as skilled, and he sure doesn’t have a Marine’s patience. I’d rather take my chances up here, where the AI can at least sail the ship out of harm’s way if needed than ten kilometers down a rift valley with only one way out.”
She stood, rotating her shoulders to loosen the muscles.
“Then I’ll make sure to add some refinements of my own to the security system. Anyone tries to board without permission is going to end up missing a limb or two at the very least.”
“Knock yourself out, Zack.” She smiled briefly. “And make sure the emcon is perfect. The ship can’t be boarded in the first place if it can’t be found. I’ll do the pre-flight check on the shuttle.”
“Aye, aye, Captain, sir.” He tossed off a mock salute. “I’ll head to the armory for a few bits and pieces I can use to thoroughly booby trap Phoenix. This might actually get entertaining.”
Whistling tunelessly, he left the bridge on his quest, already mentally building the contraptions he’d attach on the various airlocks. This was the kind of work he enjoyed.
Talyn shook her head, then headed aft to the small hangar deck. Decker had the strangest notions when it came to fun.
**
The hangar deck hatch slammed shut behind Zack, cutting them off from the ship’s interior, and he felt unaccountably cheerless at the thought of leaving Phoenix unattended. He’d become rather fond of the little ship.
Talyn’s voice rang out from the ancient-looking shuttle.
“Ready?”
“As ready as she’ll ever be. No one’s getting on board without finding at least one nasty little Easter egg. The systems are down to minimal, and the non-essentials are in hibernation. We can bring them up from the shuttle on the way back so she’ll be ready to go. You had your long commune with the AI?”
“It’s been thoroughly briefed.”
“Then I guess we can head out to the enchanted land of Andoth.”
Decker climbed aboard and strapped himself into the right-hand seat beside Talyn, examining the cockpit while he did so.
“Looks well aged. I hope that’s only on the surface. Oh well, off we go then, driver.”
“Would you like to ‘drive’ instead?”
“No, no.” He waved his hands at the controls. “I believe we’ve already had this discussion. Driving is for swabbies.”
“I suppose you could always put on a pressure suit and spacewalk your way to the surface.”
“Only if I’m on jump pay, which I’m not.”
The shuttle’s rear ramp closed up, sealing the agents inside. At Talyn’s command, the hangar deck depressurized to the flashing of a red warning light. When the strobe stopped, the main doors opened, exposing a broad swath of stars.
Talyn gently nudged the small craft free of the sloop using only maneuvering thrusters, then turned on the main drives.
“Hangar door’s closed again,” Decker reported, glancing at the visual of a rapidly receding Phoenix and then at the tactical readout. “Her emcon’s tight and her albedo is almost zero.”
“Told you. Absent naval grade sensors, a ship thief would have to be very lucky if he comes near enough to find her.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of corruption. Naval-grade gear goes walkabout all the time. Some of it ends up on ships with bad intentions. Then, guys like me have to go sort them out; a good time will be had by all; the end.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“Did you just have a stroke or something?”
“No. I’m not comfortable leaving the ship with no one aboard. It’s a Marine thing. We like to know our ride will still be there, ready to extract us after a drop.”
“There’s the AI.”
“It’s a computer code, not a someone.”
“Don’t tell it that. You might hurt its feelings.”
“Now who’s being strange? Caring about a machine just because someone programmed it to sound like you? Pay attention to your driving instead; if we land anywhere other than at the bottom of the equatorial chasm, we won’t have a fun time. You need enough air pressure to have a fun time.”
“Right, so why don’t you do your job as second fiddle and give the Yavan spaceport a call?”
“Second fiddling for the mistress, aye.” Decker scanned for the expected beacon, and when he found it, he locked in.
“We have a positive link with the relay at the surface. They’re transmitting approach and landing instructions automatically.”
“How nice: no inconvenient questions from a bored controller. My kind of place.”
They flew in silence for almost an hour, the dun-colored, desolate looking planet growing rapidly on the main screen. Decker pointed at a dark slash near the equator.
“That’s where we want to go, in case you forgot. Yavan is somewhere at the bottom of it.”
“To quote a Marine of my acquaintance, it looks like fun, fun, fun.”
“Everyone’s a comedian,” he grumbled. “Try not to add to the collection of dents on the hull and I’ll be happy.”
Talyn brought the shuttle to a hover just above the fissure, and they got their first glimpse of Andoth’s settled area. They expected the darkness, but not the thousands and thousands of distant lights scattered along the bottom for hundreds of kilometers in either direction.
“It’s almost ten klicks down, Hera.” A touch of awe escaped his normal self-control.
“Does it make you feel small, big boy?”
“Nah, but I can see why you wanted to leave Phoenix in orbit. Trying to fly a sloop out of there when someone’s on your ass wouldn’t be ideal, not least for my nerves.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” She shook her head at the thought. “They mustn’t get much sunlight down there.”
“Probably none at all. Artificial light twenty-four seven. Shall we?”
“Have you locked in the actual spaceport beacon, not the surface relay?”
“Do I love Shrehari ale?”
Without answering, she banked the shuttle towards the source of the transmission and began shedding altitude. Soon, they dropped below the rim of the chasm and began descending into eternal darkness, passing helpful, brightly lit markers set on the walls at regular intervals.
The lights on the bottom grew in size and began to separate into individual sources, revealing a broken, nightmarish landscape that somehow had sprouted a carpet of human structures.
“Not exactly pretty, is it?” He grunted. “It must be profitable, though; Yavan doesn’t look like just a two-bit mining town. That spaceport tarmac can probably take half a dozen standard transports with room to spare for nervous helmsmen.”
Decker switched a side screen to the overhead view and was rewarded by the sight of a thin thread of lavender sky high above them.
“It would definitely have been a bitch to lift off in Phoenix if someone wanted to keep us down there,” he said.
Talyn brought the shuttle down in an increasingly shallow glide, aiming the nose at a yellow circle outlined by flashing lights near a single story building at the edge of the tarmac. When they were directly above the landing spot, she killed all forward momentum and gently touched down. The markers immediately stopped flashing.
“We’re here,” she announced, unfastening her seat restraints.
“So I noticed, but thanks for making sure. I suppose we should visit the port master first and pay our fees. This doesn’t look like the kind of place that’ll open a tab.”
“Indeed.” She rose and stretched to the extent possible in the confines of the cockpit. “Lock and load?”
Decker pulled out his blaster and fed a copper disc into the ignition chamber, checking the battery’s charge at the same time.
“Lock and load.”
