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Leaving the streetcar behind, Coulter followed Qeeope down a long corridor. As they reached the end, they arrived at a clear wall, with a large cargo vessel behind the docking entry. Two tubes extended to the ship, the smaller one allowed crew members to enter and exit, the larger tube was used by forklifts moving materials into the cargo hold.
As they approached the vessel a black woman in her thirties, with a scar over her left eye, stepped out of the crew tube. Captain Pamela Mackay was standing next to her first officer, Kriss. “Qeeope,” she asked, “is this the new crewmember? You said he was inexperienced, you didn’t mention he’s still in diapers!”
“I may not have a lot of experience Captain,” replied Coulter, “but I graduated from the Space Academy in Calgary.”
The Captain shared a glance with her android, First Officer. “What do you think Kriss?”
“Humans aren’t the most efficient species to hire as crewmembers,” replied Kriss, “but we should probably give him a chance to prove himself.” “That’s as close as a compliment you’ll receive from my First Officer. I’m Pamela MacKay, Captain of the Challenger. If you ever call me Pam, I’ll have Kriss eject you out of an airlock.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“If you work hard and impress me, you’ll be part of a crew that always makes a profit. Who knows? After a few years in deep space, you may have enough experience to teach at the Space Academy.”
Qeeope pointed at the Captain’s face. “When are you going to get that scar taken care of Captain? I know some excellent plastic surgeons.”
“Why would I? The scar reminds me that I’m human. I don’t want to look like some stupid machine.”
The Captain turned to the Kriss. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Kriss shrugged. “I’m an android, I have no feelings.”
“You’re the ugliest pile of bolts and wires I’ve ever seen.”
“That hurt.”
Captain Mackay smiled.
––––––––
Nearby, a species with blue skin, wearing bright yellow capes, started making loud hissing noises. The Captain walked over to the steel barrels they were inspecting. “What’s the problem?”
One of them pointed at the barrels, which had their lids removed. “That is the problem!”
“Both parties requested that the barrels remain sealed,” the Captain said, “so I left them sealed.”
The creature slapped it’s bald head, and hissed loudly. “That’s because we didn’t want anyone to see what was inside, and be tempted to steal. Barrels were to be filled with precious gems, but they are filled with nothing but rocks!”
“Do the seal numbers match the information on the packing list?” the Captain asked.
“They match.”
“Can you see any evidence of tampering?”
“There has been no tampering by your crew. The barrels were filled with rocks, by those who lied to us. We give you no blame, but we have lost many credits. They must pay with blood.”
“I want to keep doing business with you,” Captain MacKay replied, “so as a sign of good faith, I’ll take the barrels with me. I’ll dispose of the rocks for you. I just want you to know...I had no idea the seller was going to rip you off. Once I agree to accept a sealed shipment, I leave it sealed until it reaches its destination. I’m taking a risk as well; I might be carrying something illegal, or some unstable element that could vaporize my ship and crew.”
“As we have said, we don’t blame Captain MacKay.”
The Captain walked back to Qeeope and Coulter. “Just be glad you aren’t the guys who packed the barrels with rocks. You’d be slowly dissolved in acid.”
Coulter stared at the Captain. “Did you say, ‘slowly dissolved in acid?’”
The Captain leaned close to Coulter and whispered in his ear. “There are worse ways to die in deep space.”
––––––––
The tour began with the propulsion system. The Captain stopped at a digital readout that rated the vessel’s power output and pointed at a small warning light next to it. “If you’re familiar with this type of drive, you should know what it means when this orange light flashes.”
“When the orange light flashes,” Coulter replied, “it means you’re at the point where the propulsion system can overheat and explode.”
The Captain turned to the android. “Kriss, how long have we run with the orange light flashing?”
“Three hours.”
Coulter opened his mouth to speak, but decided that silence was a better option.
“We do whatever it takes to deliver cargo to our customers, on time,” the Captain continued. “We were running behind schedule, so we crossed through Armax territory and ended up being chased by one of their border patrol vessels. It was either let the orange light blink for three hours, or spend the rest of our lives in prison.”
A creature about the same height as Coulter’s shoulder paused as it walked down a corridor next to the propulsion section. The Captain introduced him. “Keelatt, our navigator. This is Coulter, he’ll be working with Conzel.”
Keelatt’s red skin was covered with criss-crossing ridges. Coulter couldn’t place the name of his species, but he remembered that when their ears started flapping, it was the same as a human cursing.
“I overheard your conversation, Captain.” Keelatt said. “I can’t even begin to list how many navigation laws I broke that time. I was a respectable, law-abiding citizen of the universe, before I joined this crew.”
The Captain put an arm around Keelatt’s shoulders. “This law-abiding citizen was once a navigator on a cruise ship. When I told him how much he could earn on the Challenger, he joined this jolly crew without hesitation. He doesn’t like to admit he’s greedy, so he blames it all on us.”
Without saying another word, Keelatt turned and walked away, his wide ears flapping.
“What happens if you miss a delivery deadline?” Coulter asked.
“Qeeope’s the expert on that subject,” replied the Captain. “I rely on him to negotiate our delivery fees. He relies on me to get him out alive, if things don’t work out as planned.”
Qeeope spoke as they continued walking. “If you miss a deadline, some species will give you a second chance, and they won’t even charge you a penalty for the first missed deadline. Other species will charge you a penalty for being late the first time, and cancel any future contracts. And, with some species, you’re better off dead, than missing a deadline.
Coulter was curious. “What could be worse than death?”
“You could be added to a head collection,” Qeeope answered.
“A head collection?”
“Your head,” Qeeope continued, “is placed on a stand that supplies all the oxygen and
nutrients needed to keep your brain alive. Your head sits on a shelf, along with the rest of the collection, until you die of old age.”
Coulter had no reply.
The Captain stopped and held out her hand. “So, Coulter, do you still want to join the crew of the Challenger? Don’t shake my hand unless you’re serious. I’m old fashioned, I consider your handshake, your word.”
Qeeope looked up at Coulter. “There are other options. You’d have no problem finding work on one of the cruise ships, if that’s what you really want. With your training, you’ll be able to monitor the propulsion systems that are always kept in the safe zone, never pushed to their limits. No danger. No risk.”
Qeeope motioned for Coulter to lean down, and whispered in his ear. “But you won’t complete your mission.”
Coulter shook the Captain’s hand. She nodded, and tapped the a small communication device on her left wrist. “Hey, Conzel.”
“At your service. What can I do for you Captain?”
“We have a new crewmember, meet us at the Airlock on deck three.”
“I’m on my way.”
Qeeope slapped Coulter on the arm. “ Time to go, I have to look busy , before the Captain makes me do some real work.”
––––––––
The dog stood on his hind legs. He was wearing maintenance overalls and was as tall as Coulter. “My name is Conzel. “I’m the guy who keeps the engine running. Don’t’ get any stupid ideas. I don’t howl at the moon. I don’t fetch. Don’t tell me that we’re going to be best friends. And if you ever tell me I’d make a good pet, I’ll rip your balls off, and hand them around my neck.”
“Will you let me ask, at least one stupid question?” Coulter asked.
The Canine sighed. “OK, get it over with.”
“Do you hate cats?”
Conzel smiled. “Yeah, I hate cats. That one ain’t a cliché, seems the universe put it in our DNA. Cats don’t like dogs, dogs don’t like cats, doesn’t matter where they are.”
“Dogs chase cats on Earth, so I’m guessing you aren’t scared of cats.”
“Depends what cats you’re talking about. Have you ever heard of the felines in the Darlox constellation?”
Coulter shook his head “No.”
“The felines in the Darlox constellation run on all four like Earth cats, but they are three meters tall at the shoulders. Makes one of your lions look like a newborn kitten. If one is tracking
you, you better be carrying some serious firepower. You can’t outrun them, they’re incredibly strong, and their claws are like giant razors.”
Conzel waited for a moment, but Coulter said nothing. It was good sign, the kid was listening. “Let’s get started with the safety equipment.”
––––––––
Coulter’s training continued by following Conzel through his daily schedule. Every shift began with checking the gauges that recorded internal pressure throughout the Challenger. Changes might indicate damage to the hull from strikes by space debris. Automated systems were designed to report any changes to her on the bridge, but the Captain didn’t like to have her crew’s fate left completely to computers.
After checking the internal pressure gauges, they would inspect all the hydraulic systems. Some of the hydraulic equipment was fake; with hallowed out sections used to smuggle unusual items. How else could you move expensive jewels through ten sectors, if it was only legal to move a particular type of jewel through nine of the sectors? If you were crossing a border where corrupt custom officials steal everything of value, what could do you? Coulter discovered that, as well as being dangerous, deep space was a confusing, moral quagmire.
Following the hydraulic equipment inspection, it was time to make sure safety equipment was properly maintained and operational. If anyone had been outside to inspect the hull, had the evac suit been properly stored? Were all the tools returned to their proper locations?
The next stop involved checking to make sure the data on propulsion system displays, matched the data on bridge consoles. If the velocity readings didn’t match, they could be way off course. As Conzel explained, “A competitor might hack your computer, trying to make you miss a delivery, or worse. ”
“Or worse!” Coulter shook his head. Or worse seems to be a popular phrase in deep space.
“Just imagine,” Conzel continued, “that a competitor has managed to override your safety protocols. Your vessel changes course, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The next thing you know, you’re heading directly toward a planet, and you aren’t slowing down.”
Coulter grimaced. “That would hurt.”
“Actually,” Conzel smiled, “you wouldn’t feel a thing. You’d die instantly on impact. Now, where your soul ends up, that’s a matter of debate. And considering how many religions there are out here, that would be a very long debate.”
––––––––
Coulter was kept so busy learning procedures, and training on new equipment, that he rarely thought about the mission. That changed one day, while he was cleaning the showers on the third deck.
“Hey, Coulter!”
Coulter looked up, and saw the Captain standing it the doorway. “I’m almost finished Captain. You’ll be able to take a shower in about ten minutes.”
“Are you implying that I need a shower?”
Coulter looked at the Captain and recognized the mischievous grin. “You know Captain, one of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
The Captain sighed, “Now that you’re catching on, all the fun is gone.”
The Captain placed a hand on Coulter’s shoulder and leaned forward until their heads were almost touching. “Put the cleaning supplies away, and meet me in the boardroom on deck two.”
“Yes Captain.”
A few minutes later Coulter entered the boardroom, where the Captain and Qeeope waited. The Captain motioned for Coulter to take a seat. “I work undercover with the Earth Security Division. My position allows me to travel places where humans aren’t usually welcome. Did I have you convinced, that I was only interested in profit?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Good.”
The hologram of a large faculty appeared above the table. “This,” Qeeope began, “is where you’ll find your Teddy Bears. The good news is, it’s easy to find. The bad news is, it’s a prison.”
“A prison?” Coulter asked.
“The prison is actually a mining facility,” Captain Mackay answered, “it’s where the Karzonians dig for energy crystals. It’s major source of revenue for their government.”
“A Karzonian facility? I didn’t think Therloxians, or humans associated with the Karzonians.”
“They don’t,” Qeeope replied. That’s why, to the best of our knowledge, you will be their only human prisoner.”
“A prisoner? I’m hoping the plan is for me to get inside, then escape. But if I’m the only human prisoner, disguising myself as another human, won’t work.”
The Captain smiled. “Are you wondering why Lucia put you through that portion of the training? Why learn how to disguise yourself?”
Coulter nodded. “Considering where I’m going, it seems pointless.”
“Think about it Coulter,” the Captain said. “Why would Lucia give you training, that you couldn’t use on your first mission?”
Coulter smiled. “Because she doesn’t expect this to be my last mission.”
“Exactly,” Captain MacKay replied. “We expect you to survive.”
“Why are they in a Karzonian prison?” Coulter asked.
“To provide them with an alibi.” Qeeope replied..
“How do you know that?”
“We have reliable sources,” the Captain answered.
“So,” Coulter reasoned, “if the Karzonians are providing them with an alibi, it’s the Karzonians who hired them. Why?”
“It appears,” Captain MacKay continued, “that the Karzonians want to build a military base on Caslem, and they didn’t expect us to set up a colony. They wanted us to leave but didn’t want to get their hands dirty, so they hired mercenaries. And who better to do the job, than the least likely assassins in the universe?”
“So now,” Captain MacKay said, “we have to get you inside that prison.”
“Can I just walk in and say, I’d like to stay for a while?” asked Coulter.
“No one ‘stays for a while’ in a Karzonian prison,’” Qeeope said. “The reason the crime rate is so low on Karzon, is that there are only two types of sentences for crimes. A Level One sentence is for minor infractions, you don’t have to appear before a Magistrate, and your punishment is some type of community work. While you’re doing the community service, you wear a vest that lets everyone know you’ve broken the law. It’s meant to humiliate and it’s very effective, because they’re obsessed with their Sacred Laws.
“A Level Two sentence,” Qeeope continued, “is for all other types of offences. In very rare cases, you may get a trial, but usually you’re assumed to be guilty, and you go directory to a Magistrate for sentencing. Once you’re sentenced, you’re either executed, or you spend the rest of your life in their prison. There are no appeals.”
“When you die in prison,” the Captain added, “it’s called an Ocean Release. Your body is cremated, and flushed down a drain that empties into a harbour. Prisoners who die of old age or disease are considered lucky.”
“So, I guess this is another one of those deep space ‘or worse’ scenarios.”
Qeeope pointed at a blue line that descended from the top of the hologram image, to the bottom. “If they want to make an example of you, they drop you into this vertical tunnel. They call it ‘The Pit.” The Pit empties into ocean caves below the prison. No prisoner has ever have made it all the way to the bottom.”
“Is it too narrow?” asked Coulter.
“No,” Qeeope replied, “but your clothing gets caught on roots, or maybe a limb is impaled on them.”
Coulter stared at the blue line. “So, basically, you either bleed out or starve to death.”
Qeeope leaned forward. “You won’t live that long, an inmate dumped into the Pit isn’t alone.”
“Just imagine,” the Captain said, “listening to the screams coming from the Pit, as an inmate is eaten alive.”
“It sends a message,” added Qeeope, “that all prisoners understand.”
Coulter stared at the blue line. “So, no one would expect you enter The Pit voluntarily.”
Qeeope nodded. “Exactly. And even if they knew you went in, they wouldn’t expect
you to come out the bottom alive.”
“But wouldn’t they be suspicious, if they didn’t hear any screams?” asked Coulter.
“Not necessarily,” the Captain answered. “If they didn’t hear any screams, they’d just assume you were either unconscious, or dead, when snack time began. But, like Qeeope said, the main thing is, they wouldn’t expect you to survive.”
“But even if you make it to the bottom alive,” the Captain continued, “you’ll still be in danger. Water flows in and out of the ocean caves with the tide, and they may not be empty. Every ocean has its predators, and we have no idea what might be there, hunting for its next meal.”
“The good news,” Qeeope added, “is they’re large caves, so we can fly a shuttle inside to pick you up.”
Coulter stared at the blue line. “How do I get through The Pit, without getting impaled on a root, getting eaten, or bashing my head on a rock?”
“You’ll need to find something,” Qeeope answered, “a container that’s large enough for you to fit in, but small enough to drop through the tunnel. A garbage can. A large pot. You’ll find something.”
Coulter shrugged. “But, I can’t do anything until I get inside the prison. What’s the plan?”
“You’ll take a shuttle,” the Captain answered, “when we’re close to Karzonian territory. You’ll break into one of their remote scanning stations, pretend to be stealing energy crystals, and set off some alarms. Then, the Karzonians arrive....”
“What if they kill me?” asked Coulter. “Obviously, they won’t be happy.”
“They won’t kill you,” the Captain replied, “that would be a quick, painless death. Karzonians don’t like quick, painless deaths. When they punish a prisoner, they want everyone to remember the event.”
“It should be the older shuttle,” added Qeeope, “because we’ll have to destroy it. The Karzonians have to be convinced Coulter is acting against orders.”
“What happens next?” Coulter asked.
“Once they arrest you,” the Captain replied, “you’ll be taken to a Magistrate, because it’s obvious you’re breaking their Sacred Laws. You’ll be sentenced immediately. It’s a quick process. And, if everything goes to plan, you’ll be thrown into prison for the rest of your life.”
“What happens if everything doesn’t go according to plan?” asked Coulter.
“You might be executed,” the Captain answered.
Coulter shrugged. “Everyone has to die sometime.”
“It’s not that simple,” Qeeope explained. “It’s like the Captain said, they don’t like quick, painless deaths. If a Karzonian magistrate decides to make an example of you, everyone will be given time off to watch you suffer; workers, students, soldiers.... everyone.”
“So, where is the ‘or worse’ in this scenario?” Coulter asked.
“The or worse,” the Captain answered, “is they discover that suicide capsule on your molar, before you use it. Punishing an off-worlder demonstrates the power of the Karzonian Empire. As far as they’re concerned, no one has the right to question their Sacred Laws, and they do not listen to diplomats from other planets. If off-worlders are arrested, they don’t leave Karzon breathing.”
“On the other hand,” Coulter said, “even if I survive long enough to become an inmate, I could still be dropped into the Pit.”
The Captain nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah. And then, there’s that.”
Coulter paused. “So, if I survive the prison, kill the assassins, and drop through the Pit into the cave, how will you get me out? Won’t their scanners pick up the shuttle inside their territory?”
“That’s why we have to convince them you’re trying to steal energy crystals.” replied Qeeope. “When we say we’re desperate to buy energy crystals, they’ll believe us. That’s how we get permission to enter their territory.”
“If the Karzonians are convinced we’re desperate for energy crystals, they’ll be happy to sell them to us at the right price.” The Captain smiled. “It’s like that old Earth saying, ‘Cash is king,’ except now universal credits are king. ’”
“So, once you’ve got me, we can leave. No problem.”
“Are you kidding?” the Captain said. “You’ll be the first human they’ve ever sent to prison. When they find out you’ve escaped, all hell will break loose.”
“So, how do I get out alive?” asked Coulter.
The Captain smiled. “I told you, that you’d grow to love The Challenger. I’ll take her into Karzonian territory and pick you up. Once we have the shuttle onboard, the orange light will keep flashing, as long as it takes.”
“How will you know when to come for me?”
The Captain typed a date on a data pad and pushed it across the table to Coulter. “This is the day the shuttle will be in the caves, waiting.”
“I suppose that if I miss the rendezvous, escape is impossible.”
“Twenty years ago,” the Captain replied, “I had just finished high school in Jamaica, and I was working in a hotel. Now, I’m the Captain of one of the fastest cargo vessels ever built, and I am much richer than the guy who owned that hotel.”
She leaned forward, planted her hands solidly on the table, and locked eyes with Coulter. “There is no such thing, as ‘impossible.’”
“Yes Captain.”
“One thing I don’t understand,” Coulter said. “If there is no short term prison sentences, how do the Therloxians get out?”
“My guess”, the Captain answered, “is that there will be some announcement that they were wrongly convicted by false evidence planted by enemies of Karzon. And since new evidence has shown they’re innocent, they are being released.”
Coulter just stared.
“You have to understand,” the Captain continued, “this is a brutal dictatorship. If a Magistrate signs a release form for the Therloxians, no one in their right mind is going to question the decision.”
“But,” Coulter continued, “I thought they made a bid deal of arresting off worlders.”
“If the guards at the prison were told to keep the Therloxians’ arrival quiet, they won’t tell anyone outside the prison. A Karzonian who doesn’t know how to obey orders and keep his mouth shut, just disappears.”
“If he’s lucky,” Qeeope added.
“If he’s lucky,” the Captain agreed.
––––––––
The shuttle moved out of the hangar and immediately started heading in a direction opposite the Challenger’s course.
The old shuttle had no stealth technology. There was absolutely no way the Karzonians would miss it entering their territory. It was designed to move cargo, not evade capture. It didn’t have any advanced defence systems; if the Karzonians decided to launch an attack before he reached the scanning station, Coulter had no hope of surviving.
Coulter punched in the coordinates to the scanning station. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He thought of Francine. A tear streamed down the side of his face, as he imagined her waiting for him in the cafeteria. “Believe it or not, Francine, I’ve found another way to die in deep space.”
The shuttle’s scanner detected an approaching vessel.
––––––––
On board the Karzonian patrol vessel, the Commander screamed orders as his ship altered course to intercept the invader. You could patrol the borders for an entire career, and never have an opportunity like this one. An off-worlder violating Karzonian territory!
The Commander stood by the Navigator. “What’s his destination?”
“He appears to be heading towards Scanning Station 413,” replied the Navigator, “but that can’t be right. He must know that’s suicide.”
“Maybe he doesn’t care,” the Karzonian Commander said.
The Navigator nodded in agreement.
––––––––
The Shuttle docked with the scanning station. Coulter moved into the connecting tube and attached a small device to the hatch’s locking mechanism. He ran back to the shuttle. He’d
been assured the device would send a powerful electro-magnetic charge into the hatch’s locking mechanism, and there would be no explosion, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
He waited twenty seconds, then entered the tube again. He pulled, and the hatch to the scanning station opened.
––––––––
The Karzonian Commander was curious. The larger vessel had finally changed course, moving back towards the shuttle. Why the delay? Perhaps the fool was acting on his own. He wondered what could drive someone to break into one of their scanning stations. Maybe he was trying to download schematics of the scanning station. The intruder might be able to sell them on the open markets; and off-world addicts would do anything to pay for their drugs.
The Commander smashed his fist on a console. “What is he doing? I want an answer.”
The Science Officer offered a report. “No information has been downloaded from the station’s computer systems.”
The Navigator turned around. “Maybe the intruder is trying to steal energy crystals.”
“That’s a possibility,” the Commander agreed. “Do we know anything about the intruder?”
The Science Officer held out a data pad, showing an image recorded on the station. “It’s a male human.”
“A human?” The Commander stared at the image. “Karzon has never arrested a human before.”
“The first of a species to face Karzonian justice.” the Navigator said. “A great honour, Commander.”
The Science Officer touched the Commander on the shoulder. “I think you’ll want to hear this Commander. Someone on the larger vessel is trying to hail the intruder. He touched a screen and Captain MacKay’s voice could be heard, her words simultaneously translated.
“I gave you an order! Bring back the shuttle!”
“It’s all about the energy crystals Captain, we need them.”
“Are you insane? That’s a Karzonian station!”
––––––––
Are we in range?” the Karzonian Commander demanded.
“Our lasers are!” answered the Weapons Officer.
“Disable the shuttle.”
“It may explode,” answered the Weapons Officer.
The Karzonian Commander glared at the Weapons Officer, his voice barely audible. “If that human escapes, I will hand you to the Magistrates myself.”
The Weapons Officer fired the lasers. They cut through the shuttle’s thin hull, melting the propulsion system.
The Science Officer reported to the Commander. “The shuttle is disabled, there was a minor explosion, but no damage to the scanning station.”
The Karzonian Commander forced himself to sit down. “That means the station’s security system is still intact. He’s about to get a shock that he’ll never forget.”
“Unfortunately,” the Weapons Officer noted, “it’s designed to stop larger species than humans. It may kill him.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” replied the Commander. “We’ll know when we get there. Hopefully, he’ll still be breathing.”
––––––––
Coulter had felt the scanning station shake. Looking out a port hole, he saw a section of the shuttle was missing. Now, all he could do was wait, and hope the Karzonians didn’t’ kill him on sight. A moment later, the world disappeared.
––––––––
The Commander of the Karzonian vessel led the boarding party. The ship’s communication officer followed him, ready to record the Commander arresting the off-world fool, who dared to violate Karzon’s Sacred Laws.
They found the human lying on the floor, unable to move. From the stench in the air, it was clear that he had lost control of his bladder.
––––––––
Coulter regained consciousness, laying naked in a holding cell on the Karzonian patrol vessel. The Karzonian Commander entered and handed Coulter his translator. It had been inspected by Karzonian technicians, and they determined it wasn’t sending or receiving messages, it was only a translator. The Karzonian Commander didn’t know if the Magistrates would execute or imprison the human, but either way, he had to at least understand the sentence. To make the process official, he read the long list of charges the human was assumed to be guilty of.
The Karzonian Commander refused to return Coulter’s clothes. “As with all who violate our Sacred Laws, you will face the Magistrate naked. Before you were arrested, you were innocent, and after you face the Magistrate, you’ll either be a a prisoner of the state, or a corpse, but in-between, you’re nothing.”