Chaos Cipher (59 page)

‘
And that was
never going to happen,’ said Kelly, ‘anyway, what’s this about, why
are we talking about my ship?’

‘
Well,’ said
John Ripley, ‘your starnavis is of interest to us.’

‘
You are not
taking my ship!’ Said Kelly standing up. ‘That’s my ship! Mine!
It’s not part of this deal so don’t even consider treating that as
collateral!’

‘
We don’t
want to take it,’ said Jerrus with jolly mirth, ‘merely commandeer
it.’

‘
What’s the
difference?’ she snapped.

‘
Wait...yew wun tu commandeer eet?’
Caspian inquired. ‘Who thi fuk ah yew goys?’

‘
For now, you
know all you need to know,’ Estelle said. ‘Just be aware that
you’re in a very fortunate position and you should both think
carefully about what you’re being offered.’

‘
Speaking of
our offer,’ said Jerrus, ‘using the drills you’re going to need
positive mass calibrations for the Obsiduranium alloy, naturally
the only fuel for that is positronic. Who is dealing with the
antimatter to power these things?’

‘
They already
have positronic calibrators,’ said Kelly, ‘a few grams of the
stuff. They have fuel, they have the over-seers. What they don’t
have is black-allow edge drills. That’s all we’re here to
acquire.’

‘
We are not
the law,’ said Jerrus, ‘we are not any form of Atominii mandate.
Our methods are a bit more maverick so we promise you to best
quality service. I’m just being careful, that’s all. Sounds like
whoever is buying these drills has a powerful organisation.’ Jerrus
simpered. ‘Let’s do the deal. A rental of drills for a
commandeering of your starnavis. All your debts covered, wiped
clear, all your past sins absolved.’

‘
Your friend
Scuttle destroyed a starnavis, didn’t he?’ asked John Ripley. ‘He
purged the core into the environment and overheated the reactor,
didn’t he? That’s a life service just to pay off. We’re prepared to
pardon you of this debt if the trade goes well.’

Astounded,
Kelly nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again.

‘
Shit!’ She
sighed. ‘Right…but commandeer my ship for what purpose?’

‘
Research,’
said Jerrus. ‘Did you know
The Griffin’s
Claw
has a very special shielding system?
Apparently, it was designed as a secret project by Willow Kruger
towards the end of her life.’

‘
No,’ said
Kelly. ‘I didn’t know that. Look, this ship is my inheritance, it
had nothing to do with Willow Kruger. You’ve got the wrong
boat.’

‘
And I assure
you,’ Ripley smiled, ‘that we didn’t.’

‘
Ey, I wunna
chik yer portfolio.’ Caspian suddenly demanded. ‘I wunna know thet
yew reilee are who yew sai.’

‘
We can
provide you with our past contracts and you are free to look at
them, check up on our more official HQ. Business is a matter of
trust.’ Jerrus leaned forward, his face turning serious. ‘…I am
willing to bet if you approach another company, they will sound the
alarms on your illegal operation, make it conscious to the
authorities and then swipe it from under your nose to get for their
own profit, which makes us, literally, your last hope.’

‘
Well
played,’ said Kelly smoothly, understanding the threat. ‘Mr Jerrus,
and what if we do approach another company?’

‘
If you
betray our trust then we betray yours.’

‘
Bung!’
Caspian scoffed.

Jerrus
hitched forward and took the neck of the champagne bottle and
unwound the cork frame.

‘
Not
interested in your dig,’ He reiterated. ‘Just your ship. These are
our terms.’

Kelly and
Caspian’s eyes met for a brief moment. They weren’t being bought,
this was unmitigated blackmail. They’d been snared from the start,
and as it finally dawned on Caspian, he turned to Estelle to see
the woman holding up a glass, awaiting a friendly cheers. All that
suddenly existed on the table was the illusion of choice, and they
knew it.

‘
Wier nut
signing anythinke until wi fully undastend de kuntrekt agreement.’
Caspian said.

‘
Also,’ Kelly
added, ‘the final decision doesn’t come from us, but our financer.
We need to speak with them first.’

‘
Of course,’
Jerrus nodded, ‘take your time. It’ll take a few hours to arrange
to get the drills to the
Omicron
station anyway, maybe a little longer to get them
aboard your starnavis. We have a lot of storage already on the
Archimedes Two station.’ Jerrus said with a proud smile, then held
the bottle steady in his hands and raised his brows expectantly.
‘Well, are we good to do business?’ Jerrus pressed.

Caspian read
the concern in Kelly’s eyes, hiding behind her attempt at a
composed demeanour.

‘
Charteir da
Greeffin’s Clow?’ Caspian repeated. ‘Et leist ail offeshalee be ai
keptin again.’

Kelly nodded
irresolutely, casting her compunctious eyes away. Caspian also
nodded. Jerrus hollered jovially and popped the cork. The champagne
foamed. The glasses chimed.

-42-

W
hen the burger press dispensed the
cooked worm-meat and melted cheese, two clamps snapped closed,
wedging it between the toasted buns. The burger slid towards
Scuttle on a magnetic plate and he pinched it between his fingers,
like a crab with a jellyfish, and bit into it feverishly. Screw it
if it’s a worm burger, he couldn’t give a damn, the disappointment
of this journey had given him a hell of an appetite.

The
atmosphere was jocose.

The general
cacophony of murmurs and laughter, the meat sizzling as it passed
through the automated cooking press, the clatter of cutlery sliding
along magnetic rails to and from customers; the click and clatter
of billiard balls. Scuttle glared around over the top of his
burger, lower mandible masticating in wide circular motions; a
rotary piston on cruise control. After some rubbernecking, he
spotted a couple of women playing billiards under the soft light
panel and thought about how he would introduce himself. If there
was one thing he hated, it was embarrassing introductions like:
how’s the game going or so are you here on business or pleasure?
Too often had he been snubbed by the smart, independent types to
keep trying the same shitty remarks again, only to be disappointed
by the scorn, the mockery: and the cold shoulder of injustice. This
time things would be different. He imagined this time he would
smoothly mooch on over there, announce his potential millionaire
business deal and maybe even talk them onto looking around his
shuttle
The Griffin’s
Claw
. Maybe they were Cymorgs. Oh, it
would be so much easier to talk to them if they were Cymorgs. It
was his culture, and it had been too long since he’d heard the bass
vocals and digital articulations. If they were Cymorgs, he’d woo
them into his room like he was Captain Mowser and…

‘
Is this seat
taken?’

Scuttle
turned around.

A giant of a
man, towering almost seven feet, according to ocular relays, glared
down his nose at Scuttle. Passenger One Zero One fed back into his
eyesight,
Omicron’s
minimum transparency regulation. Long black hair draped
around his face, freshly reconstructed by the gene salons, drawing
his features into darkness, hollowing out the cheeks as only his
lips and chin caught the light like well grooved features in
alabaster. A small seat was available to Scuttle’ immediate right.
The burger bar was looking fairly busy everywhere else; they were
squeezing in from the personnel chutes. Scuttle forced a smile and
nodded.

Raven slowly
set himself down, straining the seat’s resin mechanisms.

He looked at
the option menu screen that appeared in streams of light before
him, then ignorantly turned away from it and focussed his attention
on Scuttle. He could feel the giant’s glare burning into his side
and felt his anxieties begin to buoy. Scuttle cleared his throat
and bit into his burger again, angling his attention to an
uninteresting part of the bar and cursing his luck for having his
original view of women playing billiards now obscured by the
biggest man on
Omicron
.

The laconic
giant sat immutably still, his glare ever piercing and
prominent.

A moment
passed before Scuttle reached out and activated the holographic
panel screen, switching the options to news updates. An article
opened on the screen about the latest furore concerning the
Kyklos
disaster in the
Suntau system. The disaster had first unfolded over an Earth decade
ago with the changing mass of a star in supernova. Hundreds of
thousands died in the unmitigated disaster, many just days ago in
relative space time, a disaster, the report claimed, that was still
unfolding over twelve years later. The Suntau star’s nova blast was
enough to destroy an Arc Station, one much larger than
Omicron
, called
Kyklos
.
Solar Navy Bravo
had
been selected for the humanitarian effort to save its people, under
the permitted commission of SkyLord Kent Gallows. A female reporter
from The Randian was speaking about the refugees being transported
from the Suntau system back to Earth.

‘
Some of the
refugees will be welcomed in light of Earth’s global problems,’ she
announced, ‘the
Kyklos
was one of the first arc ships to exodus Earth’s orbit
against the will of its government at the time, the Old Oligarchy,
a spectacular event that caused the Solitaire wars. These cultures
have developed in deep space and have valuable knowledge on alien
worlds and exotic stars and, most importantly, a cooperation that
enabled them to rely upon each other for generations. We here, at
The Randian, are issuing corporations around the world to assist in
housing these communities and welcome home the non-Olympian
celestial drifters for neurophasing and Titan care. More on this
story…’

‘
I seek of
Caspian Mowser,’ the giant finally spoke.

Scuttle
stopped chewing and swallowed a large lump of compressed spiced
worm meat.

‘
What?’

‘
I know of
you as Lukas McGill,’ Raven said, ‘although your comrades more
affectionately refer to thee as Scuttle, specialist in computing,
electronics, magnonic and gravito tailoring and a cyber-phonetic
composer.’

Scuttle was
staring up, open pupils sucking in all the light.

‘
Yeah…’ he
said meekly, seemingly unaware of the depth of his own resume.
‘I’ve got a lot of qualifications.’

‘
As do I,’
Raven said wolfishly. ‘Yet, my radical experience holds true to a
qualified killer. Might I not be so vicariously encumbered in the
affairs of belligerent men, my gifts may well have eschewed the
harvesting of beating hearts for want of a more palatable career.
Be at ease, however, your Captain is not one of my
targets.’

‘
Then why do
you want to see him?’ Scuttle dared to ask uneasily.

‘
For passport
to the lands of Adam.’

Scuttle
stared blankly as the mustard oozed from his burger.

Raven waited
for the cogitating and fearful young man to realise his words, but
the process was taking far too long.

‘
Earth,’
Raven divulged.

‘
Well, we are
going that way yeah...only I don’t think the Captain will be happy
about another occupant feeding on our resources. We have a lot
invested in our mission. Gotta be frugal, you know?’

‘
My
investments are centred to the call of fate,’ Raven
explained.

‘
I’m not much
of a believer in fate,’ Scuttle said, colloquially, ‘I can hook you
up with some people who can get you some really impressive weapons
and stuff. Guy like you looks like you would be
interested.’

‘
Weapons…thy
earthly weapons do not compare.’ Raven declared. ‘I pity your
photon resonance technology and your factories upon factories of
nuclear material. I need only passport to the Earth.’

‘
Okay,’
Scuttle sighed irritably. ‘Talk to Casp. He should be back here in
an hour or so. Why don’t you come back then?’

‘
I will,’
said Raven standing to leave. ‘Heed this, my final caveat. Should
thy Captain refuse us boarding access,
The
Griffin’s Claw
will perish. This I know to
be true by the proviso of a Chronomancer.’

Scuttle
watched suspiciously, twisting on his seat as Raven passed behind
him to dwindle in with the mass of people queuing for food or
pushing for space. Many a gaze cast up at the towering figure as he
meandered to the main door. Scuttle dropped his burger and stooped
for a different exit. He had to find Caspian fast and get the hell
off the
Omicron
.
He knows an Olympian when he sees one.