VR-Spacebus-Ch2-bjh

Chapter 2: RIGO

Posted: 7/23/2019, 5:21:28 AM

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Rigo Colony, just twelve light years from the Union Deep Space Fort Three-Corners, was a dull, bone dry, dust ball, and its only redeeming feature was a marginally breathable Nitrogen Oxygen atmosphere. That it was classified a Gardenworld was a local joke.

Agatha Sprewell, president of the Rigo Colony Beautification Committee, of course took it very seriously. She and her eighteen member committee watered and groomed the Rigo Colony City Park. It featured a genuine Terran Oak and exactly 10 square meters of fenced in grass, also meticulously tended. The Water used had to be shipped in as well as the fertilizer.

The City of Rigo was as much a city as the little green square and one tree was a city park. It consisted of a main street centering on that park and a row of buildings, most of them Prefab colony-housing containers, extended with rock and mortar add-ons, duro-crete paved sidewalks and Dura-Plast awnings

Only a very few of the signs were holographic, the rest were simply stenciled on a length of Dura-Plast board.

A few rugged open bed cargo skimmers lined up before the local Silver Hawk Emporium Dry Goods Store, their owners were local cactus farmers or nodule collectors. Several varieties of Nopal cactus grew well on Rigo’s surface, provided they received trickle irrigation, so the cactus farmers eked out a living from the marginal profit between water prices and crop selling on the Xchange.

The collection of Manganese nodules was another source of income. Manganese was useful and widely traded but not exactly a rare metal.

The colony was a sleepy but a slowly and steadily growing place. Now that the Nul joined the Union, it was very likely that this quiet planet and the other six planets in the system would turn into hot real estate property by becoming a nexus traffic point into the Nul space.

The recent arrival of mysterious, well-dressed tourists asking questions about the place or staking and measuring things were a good indication that this was not so far off in the future.

Across from the Dry Goods store, was one of the two local taverns, the Dust Guzzler, which represented fifty percent of Rigo colony’s entertainment options.

K’tknnk, a Klack, stared with his almond shaped eyes towards the North End of the town, where a paved Duro-Crete Area and four containers stacked together to serve as a terminal represented the Rigo Colony Spaceport.

The Klack sipped from his sugar water and said to a Garbini, who was hanging from one of the support beams holding up the Plasti roof above the front-porch, “I think Baldi is going to be late today.”

The Garbini uncoiled one of his tentacles, fished a bottle of Holstein Pils beer from an ice and water filled bucket right next to the broken vent-matic, while the tree polyp used another tentacle to swipe his credit strip across the reader of the Vending machine, as the reader was still working and paid for the beer.

Then he pointed the neck of the bottle towards the spaceport and the sky. “Would not surprise me if Baldi won’t show up at all. Not with Hazzzock’s raiders attacking anything and everything.”

A human joining them went through a similar ritual, paying for a bottle of Coke then took a sip of his soda. “Baldi will be here, I can hear the Arti’s whistle already.”

“What would I give for a set of human ears?” The Garbini sighed as they watched a small green dot of light grow bigger, descending from the otherwise bright featureless sky.

The Klack wiggled his antenna, “I’d trade in one of these.”

The human laughed, “How about one ear for those handy tentacles. A pair of those and I could get my tools and hands into the tightest spots.”

The Klack asked. “Do you think Hazzzock will come here?”

The Garbini also shifted so he could better see the human, while the human said, “Hard to tell really. He’s been the craziest Shiss lord and the lower color Throats follow him out of conviction not force. But then the Fort isn’t far and the Army is watching for sure.”

The Garbini returned his attention to the landing D-60LR Space bus and said. “Army, my non-existing ass, what we need here is a fleet base with a Battleship or two and a wing of Wolfcrafts.”

The human finished his Coke and got another one, grinning as he noticed the billowing dust cloud of the landing bus rolling down Main Street, “I’ve got to agree with you on that one. Nothing makes them run faster than the sight of a Union Battleship.” He then added, “Looks like Mrs. Sprewell’s prized oak tree turned from green to dust brown again. She’s going to have a fit and poor Mr. Sprewell will have to pay someone to wash the leaves again.”

The Klack closed his mandibles in a menacing way, “Oh but there is one other thing that makes them run as if the host of hell is after them. If Shiss, Nul, Dai Pirates or whoever hear the Devi is on the way and our Eternal Warrior wants a word with them.”

All three raised their drinks and the Garbini said, “I’ll drink to that.”

The three beings watched as many people came out of the buildings to see the biggest weekly event there was in town and on the planet: the arrival of the Space bus.

It wasn’t one of the big new 3000 passenger deals they had running on the main lines, but an old, sturdy Leyland Alexander D-60 Long Range.

It was not operated by one of the big Corporations either. Shipmaster Baldor “Baldi” Rickabough, the pilot of the D 60 never bothered to land the Coach on the Duro-Crete pad of the spaceport but right in the street and before the offices of the Coreward Space Bus Company and next to the other half of Rico’s Colony entertainment and hospitality options, the Saresii Pleasures tavern and hotel.

Baldi landed here so his passengers did not have too far to go for refreshments and of course so he could more or less walk right into the office of the CSBC. Then after business was taken care of, right into the tavern.

The powder fine dust that was everywhere on this world, and the reason why most NiOx breathers chose to wear filter masks before their faces, still danced in billowing clouds around the now landed shuttle, obscuring and engulfing the small crowd. The side air locks, ramps and flight deck hatch opened at the same time.

Baldi, the pilot, and Emerson, his Engineer, gunner and flight deck attendant, stomped down the forward ramp and reached the ground just as the extending ramp did.

Baldi was sort of a local celebrity and some of the loungers and locals present were eager for recognition. Someone yelled. “How’s things in Charles Port, Baldi?”

Another voice called out. “Had a good trip?”

Baldi shook hands and smiled. “All still the same in Charles Port and trips been nice and quiet.”

He pulled a small pack out of one of his many pockets and handed it to a Holdian, “As promised, I picked up your chew leaves at Charles Port.”

The Holdian shrieked excitedly and then thanked Baldi.

Two armed guards shouldered their way through the crowd and one of them asked, “Did you bring the Credit Boxes?”

Emerson, a bulky Quadi-Ped, answered, “Yes it’s up there in the Pilot’s locker storage.”

While the armed guards stomped up the forward ramp, passengers emerged from the open side air locks. It was only a handful this time and they almost immediately dispersed, some went across the street to the Dust Guzzler, some went to the Saresii Pleasure tavern.

The owner of the place thought that anything with the name Saresii would imminently be equated with beautiful women and sophistication, that the owner was actually from Tak and had never set foot on a Saresii world didn’t bother the locals much.

One of the passengers, an expensively dressed blue skinned woman, stepped out from the air lock and pressed her gloved hand before her mouth and nose, apparently unprepared for the dust and the dry air. She wore a long dark gray skirted dress, as was fashionable for Thauran nobles. Around her shoulders was a gorgeous shimmering black fur lined cape with a voluminous hood drawn up. She appeared somewhat out of place as she stepped from the landing ramp onto the dust covered pavement.

One of the beefy looking Cargo Handlers noticed her, wrestled another crate of prickly pears on the loading conveyor, wiped his hands and said, “Ma’am you might want to stretch your legs, the coach won’t leave for another six or eight hours.”

He got a better look at her face now and said, “I mean stretch your limbs, ma’am. We’ve gotta load the freight and service the engines.”

The Thauran woman, clutching the cloak she had drawn about her looked tired, yet there was an impression of strength and character in her clear face as she gave the loader a faint smile and said, “Thank you.” She then asked, “Is there some place where I can have a cup of tea?”

The words tea or cup were not quite in the load handler’s dictionary and he looked at her puzzled for a moment, then he removed his dust mask, scratched his chin and said as politely as he could.

“Well, ma’am, you can get coffee right there in the Saresii Pleasure Palace. I think they serve that in the lobby.”

She thanked him as he pointed her into the right direction and then he said, “Are you alright ma’am? You ain’t looking very pert.”

She was already moving towards the hotel, coughed and said. “It’s the dust. I’m alright.”

The Saresii Pleasure Palace was a two story building made mostly of local rock, mortar and Duro Crete with a large illuminated sign spelling out the name of the business, right next to the Space Bus Company.

Both businesses shared a plastic roof used mostly to provide shadow and relief from the glaring white light of the local sun.

A nice looking girl, standing next to a United Stars Army Captain, watched the cloaked woman approach. The girl shaded her own eyes with her hand and then smiled and said. “Why, if it isn’t Luna Lodyn,” then stepped down from the raised sidewalk to greet the Thauran woman.

Luna recognized the girl saying. “Nancy!” then belatedly noticed the Army Officer who also stepped closer to meet her. “How are you Captain Whiterspoon?”

Before the Officer had time to respond, his pretty young wife took Luna’s hands, “Lady Luna what are you doing here, so far from Royal?”

The blue skinned lady said, “I am joining Ronald at Benton’s Colony. He is there with his troops.”

The Captain said, “Ronald is much nearer than that Lady Luna. He’s been ordered to Cobalt Springs with his wing of Apaches.”

Nancy smiled and said, “You be with your husband soon then, that’s the very next stop of the Bus.”

An immaculately dressed man, with the slightest blue complexion to his skin, passed them as he left the hotel and bowed in the stylized old Thauran way.

Luna Lodyn, who was a genuine Thauran baroness smiled openly as she heard her husband was close and Lucy took her by the arm and the two women and the Army Captain walked through the air curtain into the air0 conditioned lobby of the hotel.

Luna looked thankfully at a gurgling little water fountain and took a few deep breaths, “I never thought a place could be so dry!”

Lucy pointed at a little device right above her cleavage that at first looked like a piece of jewelry, “If you live here you need one of these little misters. It sprays a fine mist of water every time I take a breath and keeps a small force field before my face against the dust. They sell them at Silver-hawks Emporium.”

The Army captain said, “She won’t need one at Cobalt Springs. There isn’t a dry spot on that world, good for the lungs they say.” Then he gestured towards a table and chairs beside the windows, “Why don’t you two lovelies sit here, while I get us some service. I think they do have Saresii tea.”

The Thauran lady sat down in a graceful manner gathering cloak and skirt with a much practiced move. Lucy took the seat across from Luna and said. “How long has it been since your Ronald and my Hector were in the Academy, is it six years?”

Luna nodded, “Yes six years, our sixth wedding anniversary is coming up and I decided to surprise him.”

Lucy nodded with a deep smile, “Aye, a surprise it will be. I can hardly believe seeing you here. What a shock these conditions must be for you, coming from Planet Royal and all.”

Luna looked away from Lucy and out the window, “Much has changed since Federal Police arrested the old Emperor. Succession wars, open and clandestine, with many of the old families at each other’s throats, make the Azure Worlds much less desirable places than they used to be.”

The Captain returned with an S-10 Service robot in tow. The machine carried a tray with fine china cups and started setting the table.

The Machine said, “Saresii Emporium is delighted to have a VIP guest of such stature and importance as a guest. Saresii tea was ordered for you and it is currently being prepared the traditional way. Please be patient as this preparation includes 3 minutes of infusing the flavors.”

Luna thanked the machine while Lucy patted Luna’s hand and said, “You must be exhausted from that long trip.”

Luna nodded, “It was quite bearable from Royal to Blue Moon as I booked passage on a Lux Cruiser but I found out that there are no other civilian travel providers, than space buses to these parts.”

The Captain smiled at his wife. “This isn’t Union Core for sure, but now that the Nul are part of the big family, I reckon these parts will have Space Train connections soon. Lucy and I have claimed a farm right here.”

Lucy returned the smile, “Hector is currently stationed at Fort Three Corners but he won’t extend after that but will take his leave and we both look forward to that.”

Luna nodded her head to show she was listening but she still gazed outside and then pointed to the well dressed man who had greeted her outside, “Do you know who that Gentleman is?”

The Captain answered quietly while his wife looked indignant, “Hardly a gentleman, Lady Luna.”

Nancy added with a wrinkled nose, “His name is Valthim I believe and he is not a local. They say he is a notorious gambler and a vicious bounty hunter.”

Meanwhile, outside in the street from the office of the Space Bus company, three men and a woman in green coveralls appeared. The woman directing a robot dragging a sizeable hose over his metal shoulders unreeling it towards the fuel ports of the Space bus.

The men used an articulated cherry picker platform to reach the ISAH Pods in order to serve them. More hatches opened and freight and luggage was unloaded. Load handlers loaded crates and boxes with local produce on an extended conveyor belt that carried the outgoing freight inside the Leylands cargo hold.

The quiet character of the little settlement had changed into a busy organized chaos since the bus arrived. The two armed guards, with Enroe Security patches on their sleeves, re-appeared on top of the boarding ramp guiding a sturdy and heavy looking Ultronit reinforced box floating between them down the ramp.

Baldi had them sign his PDD and grinned, “It’s all yours. I am sure glad it’s off my hands.”

Emerson who, thanks to his size, could easily look over the heads of everyone present, pointed at some kids and yelled, “Keep them kids away from the Forwards, they are still hot like hell!”

Baldi was social but he wanted to finish the official part of the business and then grab a steak and a drink at the hotel, take a bath and snooze a few hours before he had to take on the next leg of his trip. So he pushed himself through the now slowly dispersing crowd and into the office of CSBC Inc.

The Coreward Space Bus Company was tiny compared to the big Bus Lines like Gray lines (owned by SII) but they had offices on 54 planets, 23 moons and 18 stations in the region. Except for the company’s headquarters on an Asteroid in the Blue Moon System the offices looked pretty much the same. A bleak passenger lobby with a few rows of Vari-Matic Chairs, Vent Matics with a very basic selection of snacks and drinks, three public GalNet terminals and Change-a-Scene advertisement posters on the walls. Only three of the seven posters still changed their images.

There was a chest high counter and behind it the employee area.

Baldy (gonna stop whinging about ‘Baldi’, guessing it’s his preferred spelling)  pushed his employee ID badge across a reader eye, released the counter barrier and went straight for a big chrome coffee machine that produced occasional puffs of steam and was a true antique and the pride possession of this office. It produced, after one had completed a series of manual steps, a dark wonderful aromatic liquid called Espresso.

The local manager, a heavy set Pan Saran named Augustus, waited till Baldy had his coffee and said, “How was the trip?”

“Well ... Sir, we had a whole bunch of Non Union signals on our long range sensors about four lights out of Charlie’s and from the size of them I think it was a Dai Clan.”

“Coming this way?”

“Hard to tell, they were on the very horizon of our scanners and I was glad it stayed that way.”

The Manager nodded and said, “I sure hope there won’t be any Dai trouble around these parts in addition to what is going on. Oh and before you go and have lunch, go to the Ranger Office. You’ll get a Federal escort this time flying along to Benton’s.”

Baldy sighed and said, “Mail Run again?”

The Manager shrugged his shoulders, “We are a Space Bus company and get federal subsidies and that also means we’ve got to carry the mail if they need us.”

Baldy sighed again, then emptied the cup of espresso and made his way to the Union Rangers office.

The Union Ranger’s office was in a one-story converted shipping container, the front side had been blended with a facade of local rock masonry and a sign in the Window read, “United Stars Ranger Service”.

Baldy was in a hurry to get to his food so he almost stormed into the small office. The local Union Ranger sat behind a worn metal desk with several PDD devices littering its surface. Wilcox, a human ranger, had his feet on propped up on the edge of the desk. Two Union deputy rangers were also present.

Baldy tipped his hand to his brow and said to the Deputies, “Hello, Mick. Howdy, Frank,” and then he said to the Ranger, “Well, Mr. Wilcox, I’m looking for my Federal Escort. Is he here?”

The Ranger said, “Oh right, you’re running Mail this week. No sorry your Escort is out trying to catch Hudson’s kid.”

Wilcox touched a sensor and a wanted poster flickered into existence above the desk, showing the image of a handsome looking human.

Baldy looked at it and said, “But that’s Hawk. I thought he was in the pen?”

Wilcox nodded, “He was.”

Baldy grinned broadly, “Well good for him. I knew the Pen couldn’t hold him for long.”

One of the federal deputies, who had been standing by the window until then, pushed himself off the sill and moved closer to the projection. “He’s a wild one alright and my guess is he’s aiming to get even with the Carpenter brothers.”

The other deputy, still sitting in a chair reading something on a PDD looked up, “It was their testimony that sent him to the penitentiary.”

Baldy shrugged, “Hawk is a nice boy really and all I can say is that he better keep away from Luke Carpenter. Gosh, Luke ran every friend of the Hudson’s out of Benton’s and most folks that know what really happened.”

Baldy halfway turned to go and finally have his lunch and rest, said, “Just last trip, I saw him hit a miner with that wicked Pick ax he carries everywhere. Laid him open like a butchered Nul.”

Wilcox, who had been looking very comfortable until then, dropped his legs to the floor. “You saw Luke Carpenter in Benton’s?”

Baldy shoving his ham fists into his coverall pockets and nodded, “Yes sirree.”

Wilcox made a thoughtful face and then got up, taking a TKU carbine off a gun rack nearby. The two federal deputies and Baldy looked at him curiously.

Wilcox was almost at the door before he turned. “You two take care of the office for a week or so. I am going to Benton’s colony with Baldy.”

Then to Baldy he said, “You got your Federal escort.”

Baldy, following the Ranger out the door, mumbled. “Oh paint me an Ult, when will I learn to keep my big mouth shut?”

--””--

The two armed guards, with the heavy Ultronit box floating between them, had reached the office of DeNoir Mining. The only purpose built structure of the settlement, made of dark gray Duro-Crete, aluminum and large glass windows. A real project, a sign proclaimed this to be the regional office of DeNoir Resource Procurement, Rigo Colony.

The automatic doors admitted the two men. A pretty Saran girl, in a short dark skirt suit exposing her long shapely legs. Like most true Sarans, her helmet like, beautiful hair was most likely a wig. She greeted them friendily (or ‘with a friendly smile’) and said, “Mr. Sprewell is expecting you.”

The guards smiled at her as they went past and into the office of the Branch Manager.

In a plush office, the most luxurious room on the entire planet, an important looking man dressed in an expensive Archa Silk business suit stood behind his desk. He was of Saresii-Venusian-Aryan descent, tall, almost white blonde and a little overweight. Instead of greeting the men he said. “You took your sweet time getting here. The Bus landed almost 23 minutes ago.”

Neither of the guards responded directly to the comment, instead placing the box before the man on the floor. With the ArtiGrav lifters now turned off, it would have taken a Saturnian to pick ot up. One of the guards said, “25 Million Credits in Cash transfer boxes as ordered.”

Sprewell had to move around the desk to sign the Delivery confirmation the Guard was holding. He said, “Ever since we’ve done business with the Nul, we’ve need cash on hand. Most of them still don’t hold bank accounts. Them brutes having accounts would make things much easier.”

The Guard checked the signature and the CITI data and then said, “The fact we are doing business with the Nul who were our enemies until very recently is still amazing to me.”

The other Agent opened the box with a special security key and started putting the small black cubes onto the Branch manager’s desk.

While Cash Strips, Cred Strips and Credit Chips were connected to a bank account and did not carry the actual money. Credit Boxes did carry the actual value and allowed the direct, and if necessary anonymous, transfer of funds.

Credit Boxes were the equivalent of cash. The ability to dispense and transfer cash without a bank or other entity having any influence or ability to control it was deemed essential for the freedoms of Union Citizens and was the core of the Cash and Funds Freedom act of 2235. So due to that fact, these Credit boxes could be stolen and used by anyone presented a genuine security risk and these measures were needed, especially for such a substantial amount.

The two security guards watched as the Branch manager put them into a wall safe. Then they took the now empty shipping box with them, without exchanging another word with the unpleasant, important acting man.

--””--

On the main street of Rigo, a group of stern faced women, three humans, two Saran, a Takkian and three Pan Saran, marched in almost military order behind a local policeman who escorted a young woman in a very tight pink dress towards the space bus.

The young woman pulled a small suit case behind her. Her chin was held high and yet anyone who chose to look closer would have seen she was close to tears. This strange procession of a policeman escorting the young woman, and the members of the Rigo Colony Beautification Committee right behind them, was stopped by an outcry and a portly man stumbling out from a door right before them.

The man appeared somewhat unsteady on his feet. He carried an old Union Fleet Overcoat over his left arm and holding a worn small case in his left hand.

The man, unaware that he just stopped the local police enforcing a new local ordinance, yelled into the open door, “Now my dear lady...”

In the open door a hard faced woman appeared and yelled at the man, “Don’t you ‘dear lady’ me, you old deadbeat! I’m keeping your things because you ain’t paid your rent.”

The unsteady intoxicated man balanced himself carefully, and lifted his hand jovially to the angry woman, “Is this the face that launched a thousand ships...” he burped and then continued, “ ... And burned the topless towers of Ilium?” In a comical gesture he blew the woman a kiss. “Farewell then, fair Helen.”

The young woman, still standing by the policeman, hurried forward and said to the man, “Doctor Boone, can they make me leave the planet and force me to go somewhere else?”

The policeman came forward and caught the girl’s arm. His voice was plaintive, “Now, Daphne don’t go make any fuss. You violated the new ordinance and I’ve got to enforce it.”

The women of the Rigo Colony Beautification Committee moved closer and Mrs. Sprewell, their leader, pointed her finger at the man. “You might as well get him on the bus too, Officer. She is a whore and he is a no good drunkard. We’re getting a Union Med Station and don’t need him anymore.”

The Policeman now actually pulled on the girl’s arm. She yelped in pain and the man she called Doctor Boone said. “I might be a drunkard now, but I am still a Union Citizen and I will put you on report, Mister Officer. They can’t simply make up ordinances on the go.”

The policeman said, “I am afraid they can. Local laws and all that. Now Doc Boone you heard them. I suggest you get on that Bus as well.”

The young woman was now almost crying, “Don’t I have rights?”

Doc Boone offered her his arm and said, after she took it, “We are victims of prejudice and violation of Union rights. We’ll find no justice here, but there is a district court in Benton’s. We will get justice there.”

To the Policeman he said, “I’ll see Ms. Storm to the bus so there is no further need for your rudeness and manhandling of a young woman.”

The Policeman agreed with a nod, “Alright Doc. But you and her will be better off on the bus.”

“Not even the promise of untold riches would keep me here. We have an appointment with a Union Court Clerk.”

The Policeman waved angrily, “Just shut up and leave. You’re drunk.”

Doc Boone pointed at his wrist PDD, “Perhaps but not drunk enough to forget to collect evidence.”

The Cop wasn’t so self assured anymore, “Go wait in the Hotel for the Bus to leave. I’ll get your tickets.”

Without giving the Policeman another reply, Doc Boone and Daphne walked across the street and entered the Hotel.

Doc Boone left his coat and bag on a chair and said to the young woman. “Just wait here while I say farewell to my friend the bartender.”

She gave him a sad, thankful and defeated smile, and sat down while he went over to the bar.

As he approached the bar, he noticed the barkeeper in conversation with another passenger that had arrived with the bus earlier. There was something gloomy and parsonical (??? like a parson?) about that man’s appearance.

Doc Boone leaned against the bar a few meters away, the barkeeper, with a frown, interrupted his conversation and stared at the Doc.

Doc Boone smiled and said, “Jerry.”

“Yes Doc?”

“In the past, I will admit, as one man to another, that economically I haven’t been of much value to you. But...” Boone lowered his voice adding, “ ... you don’t suppose you could ... ahem ... put one on credit?”

The Bartender rolled his eyes and shook his head, “If talk was money, Doc, you’d be the best customer I’ve got.”

“I’m leaving with the bus, Jerry.”

“Honest?”

“Yes, my dear Jerry, and I thought you might, in memory of our many happy...”

The barkeep sighed and keyed a drink order into the Serv-Matic and pushed a glass filled with a golden liquid in front of the doctor.”All right, Doc, just this one.”

“Thank you, Jerry.”

Doc Boone took the glass and turned it as he regarded the liquor with fond anticipation.

Jerry the barkeep, leaning on the bar, used his chin to point at the man he had talked to before, “Here’s another fellow going with you on the bus, Doc. He came all the way from the Core, some place called Erth or something.”

The man, hearing this, turned and said, “Alfons Peacock is my name Sirs and I am from Earth, not Erth.”

Doc Boone lifted his glass to Peacock but his attention was on the glass rather than on the stranger, “To your health Reverend.”

The Earther corrected again, “I am not a clergyman. My name is Peacock.”

Jerry laughed, “He is a salesman for Thompson’s Bar Supplies. He sells Liquor.”

Doc Boone coughed out his drink and set down his glass, “What?”

Peacock still stood at the end of the bar with Doc Boone and the Bartender looking towards him, “Not just liquor. Thompson’s offers a wide range of beers and non alcoholic choices.”

The Barkeeper refilled the glass of Doc Boon, “They can get that over at Silver-hawks’, the people coming here want the hard stuff.”

Chapter 2: RIGO

Posted: 7/23/2019, 5:21:28 AM

Pages: Prev | 1 | 2 | Next

Continuation...

Peacock pulled a sample bottle from his case, “This is genuine Old Overholt from Earth.”

Doc Boone edged closer, uninvited, took the small bottle and emptied most of it then smacked his lips, “Mr. Hancock this good Rye.”

“No, no it’s Peacock. My name is Peacock Sir.”

“You don’t need to tell me, sir. A familiar name, an honored name! I never forget the face of a friend.”

--””--

Six hours had passed since the bus had landed. All freight and luggage was stowed, engines serviced and fuel topped up. Baldy was walking up the forward ramp, wearing fresh coveralls. Wilcox, holding the TKU waited for him next to the flight deck air lock, “Ready?”

“Almost.”

The passengers had already lined up and Emerson was standing by the main ramp, ready to commence boarding.

The Pan Saran Manager of this Space Bus terminal activated the PA system and his amplified voice called, “All aboard for Cobalt Springs, Bumblebee, Shallow and Benton’s Colony. Final call, departure in 10 minutes. Boarding will begin now. Please hold your boarding passes ready.”

The call could be heard in the offices of DeNoir. Sprewell stood by the window and watched the passengers board as the automatic door opened and Agatha Sprewell came in, “Henry, it is not acceptable that this dreadful space bus keeps landing in the street. I need 5000 Credits to clean our beautiful tree.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled his credit strip and transferred the credits into hers.

She paid no attention and said, “Tomorrow you’re going to go over there and stop that. What good is it if you are the Mayor and can’t make them obey?”

“Yes Dear, I will do that first thing in the morning.”

“I have the ladies of the committee over so don’t expect any dinner tonight. Go and find something in town.” Without even waiting for a response she stormed out.

Mr. Sprewell stared at the door for a few moments before his face hardened in decision. He turned, opened the safe and piled the Credit boxes into a briefcase.

Out by the bus, Nancy and her husband accompanied Lady Luna to the bus. Doc Boone and Daphne Storm were already boarding under the watchful eye of the local policeman.

From the Hotel, Mr. Peacock hurried closer, pulling his big sample case behind him.

--””--

Inside the Dust Guzzler, at a corner table, sat Valthim playing cards with three others. He gave the Garbini a smile, “They should have never taught Garbini how to play poker, your kind has a hell of a poker face.”

A Klack who held his cards close to his almond shaped eyes agreed, “That and the fact that bluffing is a national past-time and part of their mating ritual, they are genetically programmed poker players.”

The Garbini snickered, “You humans invented a game where bluffing is part of the strategy, but poker has become the number one past time on all Garbini worlds. Despite all that, one can bluff only so much. With this hand you dealt me, I need a miracle not a bluff.”

The fourth player was human and he took a sip from his drink, “So are you in, tree-hanger or do you fold?”

The Garbini manipulated his controls and a taller stack of holographic chips appeared in the middle of the table, “I’m in Mr Befford, before I admit defeat I hope your hand is even worse than mine.”

The Klack noticed the pale Thauran staring out the window. The Bus announcement had been made and he said, “Mr. Valthim you seem suddenly distracted, are you in?”

Valthim watched as Lady Luna boarded the bus and he said, “Like a flower in the desert.”

Befford shook his head, “What are you doing Mr. Valthim, talking to yourself?”

Valthim raised his bet while still staring out the window, now seeing Lady Luna appear behind one of the bus’ larger panorama view ports near the front. He responded, “You would not understand Befford; it is a Thauran matter.”

Befford shrugged, “Well this is too rich for me,” and folded.

The Klack said, “Is it about the recent Thauran troubles?”

Valthim sighed, “Old families, old traditions and ancient troubles my six limbed friend,” then smiled coldly. His cultivated voice seemed to have a sad melancholic edge to it.

The space bus was almost ready to leave, passengers were all settled inside and Baldy was about to close the hatches, when Apache gunships descended on green glowing ArtiGrav cushions. The menacing looking gunships of the Army landed before and behind the bus and more touched down on the Duro-Crete surface of the space port. It was a whole regimental wing. Their landing action was an impeccable demonstration of precision and military proficiency.

The lead unit was painted dark green and red. A yellow shield shaped insignia with crossed sabers and a horse’s head on its fuselage identified it as part of the 42nd Space Cavalry Unit out of Fort Three Corners.

Baldy waited, suspecting nothing good, and watched as the canopy opened and a flight-suited man got up and removed his helmet. Baldy and many of the onlookers recognized Lt. Mentar. The Lieutenant climbed out with a few agile steps and jumped, with his suit augmented muscles, right onto the landing ramp before Baldy.

“I am sorry for delaying your departure, but Captain Sickles asked if you would deliver this dispatch to the regional Command at Benton Colony. The GalNet network in the entire region is down.” The Army officer held out a sealed message pouch.

Baldy took the document pouch, while Wilcox reappeared and asked, “GalNet is down?”

The Army lieutenant answered “Yes Sir, entire region. We are flying escort for you as far as Cobalt Springs. The Cavalry Wing there will then take over and escort you all the way to Shallow. From there you will have another escort into Benton. You are designated a Post ship and you must go, but you must warn your passengers that they travel at their own risk.”

Baldy didn’t like the sound of that and asked, “At their own risk? Escorts, GalNet down. What’s the trouble Lieutenant?”

The Army Officer said. “Hazzzock is on the move.”

Baldy threw his hands in the air, “Dai between here and Charles Port and Hazzzock and his wild bunch between here and Benton’s. They don’t pay me enough to make that trip. We’ll stay right here till you and the fleet has cleared the situation.”

The Army Officer nodded, “Of course, the Army has no authority over you, but your employer will of course lose the Federal Endorsements and subsidies for refusing the contractually agreed Post ship clause.”

Baldy looked stung by those words and swallowed before saying, “This bus is going to Benton’s.”

The Lieutenant jumped back to his gun-ship and then climbed into its pilot seat.

Baldy entered the Bus and addressed the passengers and repeated what the Army officer had said and then he added, “Me, Emerson and Wilcox are taking this bus through to Benton’s Colony. We have Union Mail aboard and must make the trip. With or without passengers. So whoever wants to stay and wait things out is welcome to get a ticket for a later trip. Whenever that might be.”

Lady Luna was first to speak, “I’d like to remain aboard. My husband is at Cobalt Springs.”

Daphne Storm right after her looked out the view-port and said, “There are worse things than Shiss Raiders. I’d rather die than stay here another minute.”

The salesman, Mr. Peacock, got up, “Under the circumstances I am sure my customers will understand when I wait things out right here.”

Doc Boone smiled at him, “No one guarantees your safety here, you heard the Ship-master, there are Dai nearby and I’d rather face Shiss raiders than Dai Than taking a colony apart.”

Peacock sighed, “Oh dear,” then sat down, “It appears I’ll remain aboard as well.”

Baldy said, “Well since there aren’t any other passengers. We are ready to leave.”

Just a moment before Emerson wanted to retract the landing ramp and close the main hatch, Valthim waved, “Room for one more?”

Emerson stopped the ramp and admitted the pale blue man selling him a ticket. Valthim carried only a small bag, but he had an expensive H&K Raketen Gewehr over his shoulder.

To Emerson he said, “I am fully licensed.”

The Quadiped raised his hands. “You would not have made it this far if I thought otherwise.”

Henry Sprewell, out of breath clambered up the ramp, “Just got a Message from our Office, important business in Benton. Luxury accommodations please.”

Emerson closed the hatch and touched a signal sensor to indicate to Baldy that the boarding was completed and the hatch closed. Only then did he turn to Sprewell,

“Sorry sir we have only one general flight deck and no special accommodations. Ticket to Benton, that will be 200 Credits.”

Up on the flight deck, Baldy checked his systems one more time and then flooded the ArtiGrav lifters with negative gravitons and the bus begun to rise. Out of pure mischief, and only to annoy that horrible Agatha Sprewell, he touched the levers of the main engines and tipped it just ever so lightly. The main engines roared to life and caused a little dust storm, completely engulfing the street and, of course, the oak tree.

Behind them twenty Apache Gunships rose into the air adding much substance to the dust cloud and Baldy giggled, “I think they’ll need shovels and wheelbarrows this time.”

Wilcox nodded but looked lost in thought.

Then the bus left the last traces of atmosphere behind and its two ISAH pods started to glow bright blue as they established the Isah field as the bus began to accelerate to Threshold speed.

--””--

GalNet - Pedia

Leyland Alexander D 60 LR

-Passenger Service Configuration-

The 62 meter Leyland Alexander can easily be identified by its boxy appearance and the four swivel mounted ISAH pods that also include the landing gear assembly.

Its triangular raised front contains the flight deck, where the ship’s control center, its sensors and the computronic modules, is located. (Drop out the parenthetical clause and the rest is clearly singular.)

The boxy middle section contains a passenger deck and a freight deck. The rest is dedicated to the ships engines, energy distribution, environmental systems and the fuel tanks. These D60 LR are often found in service for frontier region space bus services. They are dependable, rugged and easily serviceable.

The passenger deck consists of seat rows, washroom facilities and a small lounge.

--””--

Baldy punched in the way points for the acceleration path, checked the scanners one last time to make sure there was nothing solid in the way and then committed the engines.

He did all this a thousand times before but this part could never become routine. Most accidents happened in the acceleration phase and once the ship was committed there was nothing that could be done to prevent a collision with something else.

He glanced over to Wilcox who was talking to Emerson. The Quadiped complained. “If there’s anything I don’t like, it’s taking my bus through Shiss space.”

Wilcox replied. “It’s what you are doing the last ten years. All this is or was once Shiss Space.”

Baldy checked the scanners and felt a little better seeing the twenty contacts of the Apache Gunships behind them.

Baldy adjusted the cruise speed and said to Emerson. “Once you’re done gossiping with our escort. Go and check on the coolant flow of the Main Fuel manifold. It runs a little hotter than I like it.”

The Quadiped grunted. “That you are in a bad mood doesn’t mean I have to be unfriendly to Wilcox...”

“Don’t tell me you like this better than I do and now do check on that manifold. We might have to red line the engines before we reach Benton’s.”

The big Quadiped mumbled some more but made his way to the small engineering section in the back.

Wilcox turned to Baldy. “Sure funny, about Mr. Sprewell taking the bus.”

Baldy however was still ranting. “I took this job ten years ago so I could marry my girl Julietta. I’ve been working hard at it ever since.”

He then opened the intercom and said. “Emerson we are running over sixty degrees now.”

Emerson’s voice came back. “Don’t get all excited. I am not even there yet and we can handle 200 easy.”

Wilcox put his feet up on a console and leaned back. “You’re married, who knew.”

Baldy fiddled with the sensor controls and said. “Why, certainly; my wife’s got more relatives than you ever did see. I bet I am feeding half of Marlow town on Benton’s.”

Wilcox kept shaking his head. “Don’t it seem funny to you? About Sprewell?”

Baldy still didn’t really listen as he was in the middle of his rant. “And what do I get when I am home at Benton’s? Nothing but reconstituted Vat grown simple dinners. Cheap they are but after ten years I know all the ten flavors they sell.”

Down on the passengers deck, the travelers sat all in the small lounge. Sprewell the last to arrive, immediately went to the Serv-Matic. “What a horrible selection.” he complained, then settled for a bottle of juice and sat down as well.

He looked over the other passengers and then he pointed at a large view screen that showed Rigo’s Colony shrinking to a dot of light and twenty Apache Gunships in tight formation right behind the bus. “Fine looking military hardware back there. It always gives me great pride in the Union when I see such fine machines flown by such fine young individuals. Anyone know where they’re going?”

Mr. Peacock, eyeing Doc Boone who in turn was examining his sample case answered. “Are you not aware what happened?”

Sprewell opened his juice and said. “I don’t follow you, Reverend.”

Doc Boone seemed to have figured out how the sample case worked and pressed a sensor, a small sample bottle of gin appeared. Peacock rolling his eyes, pushed his case away from Boone to the other side and said: “I am not a clergyman. My name is Peacock.”

Doc Boone looked pleased with himself as he opened the small bottle. “We are all going to be killed or sold as slaves of course, Mr Sprewell. Massacred or sold, that’s what the soldiers try to prevent from happening and that’s why they escort us.”

Sprewell tried to smile and looked to Lady Luna who for the first time turned her head away from the view port.

“That old drunk fool is joking of course.”

But it was Peacock who answered. “Oh no, he is not. Oh dear no. I wish he was joking, Sir.”  (Was he speaking to Lady Luna?  ‘Sir’?)

Doc Boone emptied the little bottle and then looked with a critical expression on the small label and said with a cheerful tone in his voice. “It is that old Shiss butcher...” he then handed the empty bottle to Peacock with a jovial nod and continued.” ... Hazzzock that’s the name of our butcher. He pissed on the peace treaty his cousin the First Nestling signed and declared war on the Union all by himself. He and his raiders killing and destroying everything in sight.”

Sprewell pulled the brief case he was clutching closer to his chest. “Hazzzock made his move? Why weren’t the passengers notified? Why wasn’t I told?”

Peacock sighed. “We were.”

Doc Boone eyeing the sample case now out of his reach with a longing expression. “We were told Sprewell.”

Peacock nodded with unveiled fear in his eyes. “Yes, but with Dai Pirates between here and Charles Port, I was convinced by this thirsty gentleman that the Shiss were the lesser evil. Now I am not so sure anymore.”

Boone turned his attention to Sprewell.”Weren’t you told in that message you got from Benton’s?”

Sprewell looked agitated and said with a blustering tone. “Oh yes, yes, yes, of course, of course, I forgot.”

Up at the flight deck, Baldy turned off the non-responsive GalNet Terminal, his eyes almost glued to the scanners. “Twenty Apaches are just not enough if Hazzzock shows up.”

Wilcox leaned over to look at the scanner screen too. “Apaches aren’t exactly impotent you know and these guys know how to use them.”

Baldy sighed. “I still would feel much safer if we had a wing of Wolfcrafts back there. My wife’s grandfather is coming all the way from New Algiers to live with us, if that wasn’t reason enough for me not to go to Benton’s this time. Hazzzock terrorizing the region should be.”

The worried shipmaster then pointed at the dark GalNet terminal. “I wish we could call ahead and see what happened. We take these things for granted you know. Able to talk to anyone at any time.”

Wilcox agreed. “That’s what I can’t figure out.”

Baldy turned to look at the Ranger. “No one has figured out how SII does it. They have not shared their tech with any other company. The fleet uses GalCom but that’s the same thing basically.”

Wilcox shook his head. “I didn’t mean that. I can’t figure out how he got that message.”

Baldy calling up the engineering panel said. “Who, my grandfather?”

Wilcox pointed his thumb over his shoulder indicating the passenger deck. “No, Sprewell.”

“What’s Sprewell got to do with all of this?”

“He is one of your passengers. Came aboard the last second and told Emerson he got an important message from Benton’s.”

Baldy was listening only with one ear as he looked over the engineering read out. “We’re still running hot. I don’t like that.”

Wilcox grunted. “Said he got a message from Benton’s”

Baldy’s fingers keyed in a diagnostic program for the Fuel decompressor. “What’s Emerson doing down there? We are at 96 degrees now.”

Wilcox pointed at the GalNet terminal. “GalNet is down in the entire region.”

Baldy simply nodded, but it is clear he really didn’t pay any attention to the Ranger and he called Emerson. “You know we are approaching 98 degrees?”

Emerson’s voice came over the intercom. “I know, we got a busted coolant line. The secondary line is working but we going to reach 150-160 before we reach Cobalt Springs. Can’t fix the thing while we’re in Quasi Space, unless you want to drop into real space and shut off the engines.”

Now Wilcox paid paid attention to Baldy. “Trouble?”

Baldy shruged. “Depends, as long as the secondary coolant pumps hold we should be alright.”

“I am no engineer. What exactly are we talking about?”

Baldy was glad he had something to talk about that took his mind of the scanner screens. “As you may know ISAH Engines need a lot of energy. Energy made by mixing Deuterium with Anti-Matter Deuterium. The process is forced to go into Nucleo Synthesis and the production of energy saturated Photons in the trans-x-ray spectrum...”

Wilcox raised his hands. “I flunked this part in Union School. Can you tell me what the problem is so I can understand it?”

Baldy sighed and said. “I’ll try. Our fuel is matter compacted. So we can take more fuel volume along. Before we can use it, it is conditioned and decompacted in the so called Sakharov Process chamber where one half is turned into Anti Matter. That process needs to happen in a near zero environment and lots of heat must be displaced. Most of it we use for energy production, but some needs to be sent to the Exchangers, outside where it can radiate into space. These feeder lines can not exceed an outside temperature of 200,000 degrees, they are cooled with mono directional energy siphon streams, and one of these cooling systems went out and we are running on the back up system.”

Wilcox sighed. “Still didn’t understand it, but something down there is hotter than it supposed to be and needs to be fixed. What happens if the second cooling system fails?”

Baldy pantomimed a big explosion and said. “The Shiss threat would become a mood point. We’ll all be roasted on a nuclear level.”

The Ranger sat up and stared concerned at the Bus pilot. “What can you do to prevent it?”

Baldy said, while counting on his fingers: “One, we can drop out of Quasi Space, shut the engines off and fix it. Two, we eject the Core Assembly and the Fuel and three, we hope it stays under 200 and we make it to Cobalt Springs and fix it there.”

--””--

Palace of the First Nestling

The Shiss were a mighty and an old civilization, Controlling a huge region of space had almost reached Tech Level eight and they had been fighting the Nul to a stalemate for almost 20,000 years. This fact alone illustrated that they were not easily ignored, but truth to be told, no one in the known Galaxy wanted a war against the Union.

The Shiss learned that the hard way when the 32 Purple Throat Colonies joined the Union. It was a short and very costly war and unmasked the Terran Humans as the true monsters of this Galaxy. No civilization known were as warlike and brutal than these warm blooded primates.

The only civilization that could have gone toe to toe with the Union were the insectoids from the Klack empire. They had always been among the most powerful civilizations, but they too were part of the Union now for over 200 years.

When the Union and the Klack demanded an area of space they could use to connect their regions, the First Nestling conceded an area of space to the Union and it became known as the Union-Klack Corridor. In galactic terms it was a very narrow and small path between Upward Union Space and the Klack Hegemony in the Coreward Sector. It instantly created a buffer zone between the Shiss and the Nul and that in itself was not a bad thing, considering that the Nul had stepped up their war efforts and were slowly but steadily gaining ground.

That this area he had conceded had been under the control of the Gray Throats for almost as long as the Shiss traveled space was unfortunate, besides the First Nestling didn’t have much choice in that matter. It was either that or war, the Union rarely took a no for an answer. Going against the Union and the Klack was not an option the Shiss wanted to consider.

--””--

Suzhz, the All White nestling, lounged in a traditional hammock strung between two pillars of black marble and shaded by a canopy made of tough Jutzurk leather on a balcony high above the rest of the palace.

The very first All Whites had used Hammocks like these long before the Shiss Lizards left the burning sands of the Naws-Sat desert behind forever. Only legends and stories remained of the time when Zazuhr, the first of all First Nestlings ruled the Shiss. But ever since then only the tents of the mightiest warriors of then nomadic Desert Shiss were made of Jutzurk leather.

The Naws-Sat Desert had long since then disappeared. In its place, sprawled the heart of the Shiss Empire, the mighty City of Naw.

Here at its very center above an ancient hill rose the eleven towers of the Palace of the Pale Dune. There were few sights in the Universe that could compare, at least not in the eyes of the Shiss. Now as the twin Suns were about to slip past the horizon, their color could be distinguished, Zazz, the big red star and Uzzz her bright blue companion mixed their light in a warm tone of deep orange that painted the entire city and the distant mountains into every shade of copper and gold.

The Twin Suns of Shiss-Ta could only be seen together like that every 110 years. Usually Uzzz was in front or behind the bigger Zazz.

To Suzhz, who had dwelt on the Pale Dune as the First Nestling for 87 years, wondered if there would be a First Nestling dwelling here in the Palace of the Pale Dune the next time this golden light bathed the city or if he was the last doing so.

Everything around him was so full and so rich of symbolism, ancient traditions. Every Shiss from the cursed Purple Shiss traitors to the White Nestling knew what they meant.

There was an order of things, these shamack aliens would never understand. Purple Throats came from the swamps and dwelled in mud and dirt and there were so many of them. It was only natural that they belonged at the bottom and existed only to serve.

How rare was a White Throat? How hard was it for them to tease out a living in the harsh desert. It was the will of the All-eating Snake Zazz and the All powerful Invisible Lizard Uzzz and it was good and obeyed since times begun.

Warazz, an almost white and trusted adviser came onto the balcony, his body bent into the shape of obedience and his tail between his lower legs to signal he could not lash out with it.

Suzhz gestured with all four hands over the city that sprawled in all directions to the very horizon. “Unbend thyself my old friend and behold. Such magnificence will not be seen again for a long time.”

Warazz straightened himself and walked to the railing putting all four of his clawed hands on it. “Indeed, First Nestling, and it might as well be the last Zazz-Uzzz that Shiss will know.”

Suzhz did not mention that he had a similar thought just moments ago. “Do you really believe the Nul will join the Union?”

“They have done so already. I received very reliable reports that the Union is about to share the secret of their Translocator Cannons with the Nul. Now the four armed terrors of the past, the ones still remembered as the Y’All have been found and made Union members.”

Warazz turned. “We can not stand against the Nul if they have Union shields and Translocators.”

The First Nestling did not look into the face of his adviser, “It will take many decades to integrate the brutish Nul and who knows what the Kermac think about the whole development.”

Warazz did not agree. “No one ever believed the Klack would join anything and when they did all our scholars agreed it would not last.”

Warazz pointed into the sky and with lot of imagination perhaps even into the direction of the Klack Hegemony. “Yet today no one questions or doubts that these crawling menaces are as Union as these filthy war monkeys from Earth. The Klack queen, a beloved icon far beyond Klack boundaries. Now there are reports that the All Leader of the Nul gives tours of the Nul palace to Union school classes and plays Grubbs and Eggs with the Saran queen.”

He was not done speaking as he turned to face the first nestling. “Recently the Siucra dared to destroy a Union Explorer. The Queen herself sent her precious ancient battle moon to rescue a handful of humans. My liege, these moons are sacred and have not been moved since the Y’All came for the first time. It illustrates more than anything how wrong our scholars were. No one believed the Narth would ever partake in anything and yet they are Union members.

Now completely unexpected hidden and previously unknown passageways to other galaxies became active.

The Union is prepared, we are not. First Nestling, it will happen quick and all the Nul need is a little incident to step before their Assembly and cry foul and then they will declare war.”

“Then let us take steps to prevent that until we can devise a path for our people.”

Another Shiss came onto the balcony and only bowed briefly then he said. “The Incident the Union Assembly needed has been delivered by your Cousin, first Nestling! Hazzzock has destroyed every Union communication buoy and is attacking and destroying every colony on worlds that he deemed were once his.”

The Shiss entering was the Ambassador to the Union, the First Nestling had appointed the Ambassador himself.”Your cousin has returned, after he disappeared through one of these passages.”

Warazz, the proud warrior dropped to his knees before the twin columns representing their highest Gods and lowered his head and retracted his spine comb. “All Eating Snake and Invisible Lizard, let this not be the last Zazz-Uzzz.”

The First Nestling got up and said. “Waste not time on superstition and stone effigies, call upon the Host of Shiss and let everyone able to carry arms prepare. We shall face this as Shiss and if we must perish we will die like Shiss.”

The Ambassador said: “Your highness reconsider. Reign in your Cousin and offer reparations.”

“Hazzzock is Hazzzock and nothing short of the All-eating Snake himself could reason with him now. He will not stop, not listen. He is old and he is proud. He prepared for this move for ages, to him one of these passages is not secret.

To stop him I would have to do it by force and I shall not. No, Ambassador your job has ended, words and treaties have lost their value. Let us answer any aggression of the Union against our kind with a response they will still remember in a million years.”

The Ambassador said. “So it shall be, First Nestling. I too will fight but I fear it is all that will remain of Shiss Ta will be filed reports in their archives.”

“Defeat is not certain. The Karthanians, the Dai, the shattered Kingdoms the Togar and most of all the Kermac have much to fear from a Union that now has added the Nul.”

“The Karthanian First Engineer has been woken, the bone faces for all their Xenophobia, considering Union membership. The Dai that remain unbound are a shadow of their former self. Cam Elf-Na has not been seen or spoken off and none you mentioned our allies.” Said Warazz.

The Ambassador was still trying to prevent war and said. “First Nestling reconsider, even if they all fight side by side with us, we will only delay the inevitable. I do not fear the Klack or the Nul, but the Terrans as they will not stop until we are utterly gone!”