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  “I have heard that as well. I do not see that it is relevant,” Dashi said.

  “We don’t have airlocks here, Mr. Dashi. What do you think would happen to somebody who stole stuff from a fellow worker if we let them stay here? And the money from the work contract goes to the victims. And as regards the rioters, GG wanted them turned over. I’m not sure we would have gotten them back. Indentured servitude is better than a shot in the head.”

  “I see.” Dashi pondered for a moment. “Now, as regards your five hundred people here, they are mostly employees and their families. GG offered them work at other sites as part of the realignment, and a bonus. After they cleared their debts, of course. Almost without exception, they turned that offer down.”

  “Work? Slavery, more like it. Contracts at other plants where the pay doesn’t cover what they owe the company store. Those kids who moved to Landing didn’t move. They ran off to escape debts. TGI charged for water, for school, for everything. They were never going to get ahead, so they did a midnight run. I wish them well.”

  Dashi shrugged. “I do agree there are two sides to every story. From GG’s point of view, they are finally fed up with trying to find a solution for people who, in their opinion, are borderline criminals who don’t want to help themselves, and they have jumped at the opportunity to offload it to TGI. That deal is done. TGI is your new boss now.”

  Mr. Dashi took another drink of water. “TGI, in this case, is me. This is my idea. And I don’t have five hundred that I’m responsible to. There are forty thousand working at TGI. If you include families and dependents, there are almost a hundred thousand people that are our corporate—and in my opinion, my personal—responsibility. All of these people are TGI stockholders. For most of them, almost all of their savings are in TGI stock. The money that we spent here is their money, their savings, their hard work hoarded against need. I’m betting not just my livelihood on this, but theirs as well.”

  Dashi stopped and leaned back for a moment, regarding Sal.

  “So, you are correct about things being tight. Tariffs are going up on the monorail. They have already gone up on the orbital shuttles. We’re paying almost twice as much for food this year as we were three years ago. We need to feed our people, so I convinced the board to acquire this beat-up, clapped-out, broken-down plant at the end of the line for a song. Why? So that we can supply at least part of our food needs.”

  Sal stretched his arms. “So what?”

  Dashi raised his eyebrows and flexed his fingers. “Of course, if that doesn’t work, we have another option. Shut this place down. Sell off the production lines for parts, burn the crops as bio-waste to generate steam in Landing. Sell the containerized housing for metal reclamation. Sell the magnets in the monorail to a repair company, and yank the stanchions out of the mountains behind us as we pull out.”

  Dashi stood up and walked over to the wall and examined a production flowchart. “I don’t want to do that, but I have limited time, and I can’t afford any problems. Problems like physical assault, sabotage, labor disruptions, strikes, or just general lack of cooperation with my agenda.”

  Dashi turned back. He smiled a broad smile. “Do you have any questions at this point, Mr. Sal?”

  Sal contemplated the shattered glass on the floor, then shook his head.

  “Good. Now, the good news. We are not closing the plant. We have put a substantial line of credit into your operating account in Landing. It should be there already. That was the reason for my delay in coming here. We needed to ensure our financing was in place. I expect to modernize the plant and bring lines three and four into full production. You also have room for expansion in the plant. We will be adding additional farming acres and some more lines. Probably two more for superpotatoes and radishes. And I want to have a more formal arrangement with those fishermen—I want all of their surpluses, and I’d like to buy all their catch. I want a regular contract for hiring them. And I want some new construction between their wharf and the monorail line, to move some other goods I have in mind.”

  Sal’s mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

  “Furthermore, I want this done quickly, and quietly. We need to get this sorted out before GG discovers what is happening and cancels the deal, or before any other corporation causes issues. Can you guarantee that this can be done in secret?”

  Sal nodded. “Of course. Everyone here can keep a secret.”

  “You can guarantee that? What about those rowdies outside?”

  “I’ll speak to them.”

  “That’s it? You’ll speak to them.”

  “I should have said, I’ll have somebody speak to them. Several somebodies.”

  “Good. Let’s begin. First, Jose will be my agent here. You probably won’t see me again. Jose will oversee everything. We will need to close one of the outlying stations, but we anticipate moving those people to a new waterfront processing plant. Next….”

  They finally left the meeting as it was getting dark. Sal couldn’t have been more helpful. He had lunch brought in, called in his staff, and issued instructions. He also had a few quiet words with the plant people. Dashi had laid out his plans, and Sal and his crew looked to be working all night to get the figures Dashi needed. The attitude seemed to be ‘Let’s get the money out of these guys before they learn better.’ Dashi didn’t mind. He preferred the new attitude to the old one.

  The lounging youths had vanished when they walked back to their guest containers, and the few security personnel walking the road smiled at them and wished them a good evening.

  “Are you coming out for dinner, sir?” Jose said.

  “No, I will be eating in tonight,” Dashi said.

  “Yes, sir. I have to say, this is quite impressive. You have outdone yourself.”

  “How so, Jose?”

  “Well, sir, given how much money you are putting into more production here, the board of directors are showing a great deal of confidence in your judgment.”

  Dashi just smiled. It was a whimsical smile. Jose watched him closely. He was an expert in Dashi’s smiles.

  “Sir, you did tell the board of directors, didn’t you?”

  “Jose, here is a piece of unsolicited advice: Don’t ask a question you don’t want to know the answer to.”

  “But, sir, all that money. You stole it?”

  “I think ‘misappropriated’ is more accurate, Jose. After all, it’s not going into my pocket. I’m using it for this project.” Dashi stopped and looked up at the Dragon covering half of the night sky.

  “You will be in charge of this project. You know what needs to be done. Make it work. I will be wrapped up in some other operations for the next few weeks. Draw what resources you need.”

  “But what if it doesn’t work, sir?”

  “You’re in charge. Goodnight, Jose,” Dashi said and walked away.

  Jose watched him go. “I’m in charge? The Emperor’s balls.”

  Chapter 8

  The crowd on the balcony watched as the fireworks exploded in the sky over Landing. Each burst of light illuminated the waterway below. In the brief flash, Dashi watched a shuttle being cranked out of the lake. It had just been placed in the cradle that would attach it to the mass driver. An engine hummed, and the cradle pulled the whole shuttle out of the water.

  The fireworks flashed again as the crowd cheered. Oooooh. Ahhhh. Ehhh. Dashi wondered why there seemed to be some pattern to it. Surely everybody just picked the noise they were most comfortable with. Why the repetition?

  A figure looked up next to him in the dark.

  “Happy Discovery Day, Dashi,” the tall man said.

  Dashi couldn’t see the man in the dark, but he knew the voice. “Happy Discovery Day to you too, Mr. Kapur.”

  “You have a lot of nerve coming down here.”

  “I do? Why? If the Militia didn’t want me as a guest, they shouldn’t have invited me.”

  “Everybody gets invited. Even those who aren’t supposed to come. If I thought I’d get away with it, I’d stab you to death with a sharpened buffalo rib.”

  “And waste that good food? Surely not.” Dashi picked up one of the ribs and chewed on it.

  A man in a Militia commander’s uniform stepped out of the gloom and stepped between them. He addressed Kapur.

  “Is everything all right, sir? Do you need help with this gentleman?”

  “No, everything is fine, Ian,” Kapur said.

  “You must be Ian Danson,” Dashi said.

  The commander glanced briefly at Dashi. “I am. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, sir.”

  “Dashi. TGI. Special Projects. Congratulations on your retirement, Commander Danson.”

  Danson whipped his head toward Dashi. “What makes you think that I’m retiring?” he asked.

  “You sold your commission to Belt Mining, effective next month.”

  Kapur turned and stared at the commander. “You sold your commission?”

  The commander drew himself up to attention and faced Kapur. “Sir, I did. Yes sir.”

  Dashi smiled. “Mr. Danson will be a new station head for Belt Mining. And a stockholder as well. Everyone over there is very excited to have somebody of his experience on board.”

  Kapur’s gaze was still concentrated on Danson. “You’re retiring? You’re leaving the Militia?”

  “I’ve been grounded for nearly two years, sir. I’ve been put in charge of every garbage detail there is. I’ll never be promoted again. It was time to go.”

  Kapur continued staring at him. The commander went on. “Admiral, it’s all been downhill since I was your aide. They’re systematically hunting down the old crew and removing them.”

  “I’m not an admiral. Not anymore.”

  “You’ll always be the admiral to me, sir.”

  Kapur stared at Danson, then his shoulders slumped. “I hope you charged them a fortune.”

  “I did, sir. They offered me a whole block of stock for my commission, and this job as well. Angela was ecstatic. We’ll be wealthy, and in orbit where we belong.”

  Kapur grimaced. “The Militia will be sorry to lose you, Ian. We’ll miss you. I’ll miss you. Good luck.” He extended his hand, and they shook vigorously.

  Dashi smiled. “Good luck from me as well, Mr. Danson. Could you excuse us, please? Your former boss and I need to discuss a few things.”

  Danson looked at Kapur, who nodded and smiled, before moving away.

  Kapur looked at Dashi. “He was one of my best officers.”

  “Yes, that’s why they trumped up those charges against him.”

  “A commander’s commission is worth a lot of money.”

  “There was quite a bidding war.”

  “Belt Mining is too small. They can’t afford to buy it,” Kapur said.

  “They gave him stock instead. Lots of stock.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  Dashi smiled at Kapur. “Because I asked them to. And I loaned them a lot of money.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s competent. Because I didn’t want him as an enemy. Out in far orbit, he’ll be away from all this mess.”

  “He won’t ever be your friend.”

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Whether he knows it or not.”

  Kapur thought for a moment. “Smart. Militia Council appointments are coming up. One of the Belt Mining officers is due, the unaligned spot on the council. Then they spring this other commission on the board. They go from a minor player to somebody to be reckoned with. They’ve never liked the Militia much, and they know Ian was treated poorly. Everyone over there will be well-disposed toward TGI, and anti-Militia. Well played, Dashi.”

  Kapur reached down, picked up a buffalo rib, and began to chew on it. “You know, Dashi, I really hate you, and your company, but you never do anything without reason. Why are you here?”

  “I’m here for the food. TGI provided a ton of buffalo meat. And I only charged half price.”

  “Half price,” Kapur said. “Anybody else and I would say they were foolish. But you, Dashi, there will be some scheme. You’ll be ripping us off somehow.”

  “Just a lot on the market right now. Transportation issues.”

  “Transportation issues? The Emperor’s scrotum. What do you really want?”

  “I want the Militia to stop stealing our orbital shipments, before you start an inter-company war.”

  Kapur turned to Dashi. “It’s come to that?”

  “Almost. It has to stop, or our board will want to do something. I need you to tell your people that.”

  “They’re not my people, not anymore. I’m off the council.” Kapur chewed for a moment. “You’ll lose. The war, I mean. We have all the armed ships. Those piddling weapons you have hidden away aren’t enough. We can cut off your orbital access. You’ll starve.”

  “We’ll cut off your fuel and air. And we can wreck the financial system. Inflation. The markets will grind to a halt.”

  “Even so, it would be worth it to get rid of you leeches.”

  “From your point of view, perhaps, if it was just the two of us. But you know it won’t stay that way. There will be riots. Deaths. Some of the GG stations are barely under control. There are a lot of unaligned corps out there. Lots of them hate the Militia. They might not jump the way you think.”

  “Let ‘em. We’ll blast them too.”

  “And the Free Traders will get involved. And they’re crazy. You never know what they’ll do.”

  Kapur looked at him. “Like what?”

  “Like running a far trader into a shuttle dock.”

  “You’d let them do that?”

  “I can’t stop them. I have no armed ships, remember?” Dashi was silent for a moment. “Do we really need to wreck our orbital infrastructure and destroy our industrial capacity right now? We’re already suffering shortages as it is.”

  “As much as I’d like to see you bunch of weasels gone, no, it’s not worth all that. And it’s all hypothetical. Even the Officers’ Council isn’t stupid enough to start things now.”

  “Something has changed. They’ve started intercepting our shipments in orbit.”

  “I don’t believe you. They wouldn’t be that stupid. What makes them think that they can get away with that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  Dashi was silent, smiling at Kapur.

  Kapur looked back. “What?”

  “You haven’t talked to me since the funeral.”

  “That’s not a good topic to bring up.”

  “But you’ve seen me since then. We’ve been at different events together, but never spoken.”

  “So?”

  “So, why, tonight of all times, did you actually come over to talk to me?” Dashi asked.

  “To tell you how much I hate you?”

  “I already know that. You made sure of it. Something else is bothering you.”

  Another set of fireworks fired off with a crackling sound, and a waterfall of light appeared over the river. Kapur watched them. “Even if it was, why would I talk to you about it?”

  “Because you dislike conflict. You prefer order. And you are patient. Not like those Empire Rising people. You suspect something. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come over,” Dashi said.

  Another light flashed, but Kapur ignored it. “You would be much easier to hate if you weren’t so competent, Dashi.”

  “Yes, I suspect that is the case.”

  “I have seen some things that concern me. The Officers’ Council is getting—”

  “Bolder? More adventurous? More willing to take exceptional risks for uncertain results?”

  “I was going to say ‘stupid,’ but your vocabulary, as usual, exceeds my requirements. They are doing something stupid.”

  “Go on.”

  “I have an agent, a pilot, that was approached by the Militia under suspicious circumstances,” Kapur said. “She is on Orbital-16. Some things are going on that concern me. Perhaps they are related to your issues. Perhaps not.”

  “I have someone investigating unusual circumstances as well. Some of these circumstances are on Orbital-16,” Dashi said.

  “Perhaps we could pool our resources. Exchange information.”

  “What would you give us?”

  “I still have some friends in the Militia who can pass on some information. Deployment information, for example.”

  “Deployment information is public.”

  “I’ll get you the non-public part.”

  “What would I be expected to provide in return?”

  “I need you to take messages from her, and provide backup for her operations.”

  “Why don’t you just ask your friends to help her?” Dashi said.

  “She can be a little unpredictable. My friends might not approve. I still want her to have some help. I know you have contacts. And I need a way for her to communicate with me without my Militia friends knowing.”

  “You don’t trust your friends anymore. I can do that. But she’ll have to meet with my agent on a regular basis to exchange information.”

  “Can you get her out if she gets into trouble?” Kapur asked.

  “My person is surprisingly resourceful. If he can get out, she can get out.”

  “And if he can’t get out?”

  “She can’t get out either.”

  Chapter 9

  “They always lie to us,” the man next to Jake said.

  “What?” Jake said.

  “I said they always lie to us.” He slumped even lower in his seat. He had close-cropped graying hair and a neatly trimmed graying beard. His clothes were neat, and his shirt was ironed. Everything about him was neat. Jake felt wrinkled just looking at him.

  “First, it was Traffic Control delaying us, then it was the late cargo, then it was the launch window, and now they say they are waiting for another first officer. Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Well, what do you expect, really?” Jake said. He turned back to his tablet.

  “I mean, do they think we’re stupid? They always make stuff up. Why don’t they just say that they hate their customers and don’t care if we wait, that they were waiting for more expensive cargo, or they wanted to save fuel?”