Orbital Claims Adjuster Page 8

  Nadine had brains, and she intended to use them.

  On the other hand, her mother’s advice wasn’t totally worthless, so she flashed a thousand-watt smile at the man across from her before she spoke.

  “The waiter grinned at me when I came in. What did you tell him?” she said.

  “I said I was having lunch with my granddaughter, or course.”

  They both laughed.

  “So, platinum,” she said.

  “Know anything about it?” he asked.

  “Yes. Lots. As much as you want. Do you want to hear about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “I didn’t think so. You want me to go get you some?”

  “Yes. Lots. As much as you can.” He smiled as he threw her words back at her.

  “Where?”

  “I have a list. About thirty places, give or take.”

  “I can’t pull thirty robberies without it being noticed.”

  “You don’t need to steal anything,” he said. He took a drink from a glass. “Ahhh. Fresh squeezed orange juice. Nothing like it. Want some.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Are you still drinking that fortified basic?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Much better than the regular stuff.” He wiped his mouth and looked for a waiter. One appeared, instantly, and he gestured for two more glasses of orange juice. There were no order pads on the table. It was much too nice a place for that.

  “That glass of orange juice will cost more than the rest of the meal,” the old man said.

  “You can afford it. So, how am I supposed to get platinum from thirty places without stealing it?”

  “You buy it. Trade for it.”

  “That’s a novel approach, Admiral.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not an admiral. Not anymore.”

  “Okay. But you will be again.”

  The man put down his fork and stared at her. It was not a pleasant stare. “Yes. Soon enough. But don’t call me that. Not here.”

  Nadine nodded her assent. She cut a piece of steak for herself.

  “You went to the Merchant’s Academy, didn’t you?”

  “I went to three different academies at various times. I can trade.”

  “Good. I’ll give you a list. Take your ship, go there, buy what you can, steal what you can’t. How soon can you leave?”

  “The scout ship needs to be refueled and re-provisioned.”

  “That’s happening right now.”

  “As soon as that is done, then.” She cut another piece of the buffalo steak. If she was going where she thought she was going, it would be a while before she got a decent meal again. “Are you sure of your facts?”

  “Yes, we have the GG reports.”

  “GG gave them to you?”

  “TGI bought them from a source at GG, and we… acquired them from TGI.”

  Nadine stopped chewing for a moment, looked at him, and decided not to ask.

  “So, TGI has the same info as us?”

  “No. We have their info, but we have a few people in place that they don’t. We know more about the unofficial sources than they do.”

  “What about opposition?”

  “There will be a big GG trader out there. Armed. And there will be a militia cutter in the area for at least part of the trip. Also armed. And it looks like TGI is sending their own ship or ships to stir things up. They might be armed too, but not with much. It will be a subsidized merchant, only two turrets, and we don’t know what’s on them yet, but we will shortly.

  “How will you know?”

  “We have a contact on board. Not a regular employee of ours, but somebody who takes our money from time to time.”

  “That’s great news. Uh, we only have one turret, with a re-purposed mining laser, and we’re not exactly space gunners. If we have a real battle, we’ll both be wrecked.”

  “Don’t have a real battle then. Figure something else out.”

  “Okay,” Nadine ate some more of her steak. “Anything else I should know.”

  “Yes, I saw a familiar name on the report. A name you’ve put in your reports before. A fellow by the name of Jake Stewart.”

  “Jakey is there? That’s funny.”

  “How competent is he? Will he be a problem?”

  Nadine laughed. “Last time I was with Jake, I framed him for murder, hijacked his job, shot him in the chest, chained him to our galley, and, after all that, I still convinced him to find some smuggled arms for me and help me steal the payment before taking the blame on himself.”

  “You shot him and he still helped you?”

  “I’m that good,” Nadine said.

  “You remind me of your mother.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” Nadine pivoted her steak knife in her hand so that it was in a stabbing position. She didn’t gesture or threaten, but the man noticed and stared at her hand for a moment. Nadine looked down and spun the knife back to cutting position. She forced a smile.

  “Great. Go on a trading mission, outwit the competitors, fight a space battle or two, steal what I can’t buy, avoid getting shot by the Militia, and get back here.”

  “That’s it.”

  Nadine laughed. “It sounds like fun, actually.”

  “It’s right up your alley,” the old man agreed.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “How about enough money to afford to drink orange juice every day?”

  Chapter 6

  The first day aboard the Petrel was boring. They were locked in the passenger deck and under thrust the whole time, but there was nothing to do. They did have computer access, and Jake could send and receive comm and information requests from company stations in range.

  They were all standing in the galley drinking basic. Jake had to show Zeke and Suanne how to pull cups from the spigot and then explain how they had to drink it every day.

  “Basic contains both hydration and calories. It’s water fortified with glucose, nutrients, salt, iodine, and other necessary chemicals,” Jake explained.

  “This tastes wretched,” Zeke said, nearly spitting his out

  “Yes. Yes, it does,” Jake agreed.

  “Well,” Zeke said, “it’s not quite what we expected, but we are in space!” The two siblings smiled at each other and clinked their cups together. .

  “Free trades,” Jake said, toasting with each of them in turn. He sat down at the table and began to play with his console.

  “What are you doing there, Jake?” Suzanne asked.

  “I’m just running a navigation plot to track where we are going. I’m interested in what stations we will be visiting. I’m also looking into the library to see what training modules are available. I like to study things,” Jake said. He looked at the two siblings. “Would you like me to show you how to do all this?”

  “Yes, very much so,” said Suzanne. Zeke nodded. Suzanne sat down next to Jake and touched his shoulder. She pointed at the screen. “Tell me what you are doing there. How do I do that?”

  “Well,” Jake said. Her hand made him lose focus a bit. And he could smell – soap? Perfume? She smelled of citrus. He shook his head and concentrated. “First, we need to know what station we left at, and how its orbit is described. There are six main components, you can look that up here, by typing in the name of the station, next, we have to track our thrust vector….”

  Zeke looked at Suzanne over Jake’s shoulder. He nodded his head towards her hand. She winked at him and smiled.

  For the next two days, the Petrel flew a series of short hops. Jake followed their progress on the computer, but he and the LaFleurs stayed locked on the passenger deck by themselves

  Inbound to their first station, Mr. Vidal called them together.

  “This station is too crowded, so we don’t get a regular berth. We’ll be up in the multi-berths with the free-traders. Time for you to do what we’re actually paying you for.”

  Zeke and Suzanne smiled at
each other, and began a whispered conversation.

  “But first, Stewart, in my office.” Vidal ordered.

  Vidal started to climb up to the next deck and motioned Jake to follow. Jake followed him up into a corridor and was ushered immediately into a small office.

  “Shut the door, Stewart.” Jake thumbed the access panel next to the door and it slid shut.

  “I see you grew up on a station. You should understand cargo. What happens around cargo. The last boarding section and I were together for three years. We worked well together. We did some business, you understand? We took good care of each other. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I think I understand, sir.”

  “ Last week the Militia called them in for overdue re-training. Do you know anything about that?

  “No, sir.”

  “You three were sent by the department of Internal Planning. Do you send reports to them?”

  “I have in the past sir.”

  “I see. Bald guy with a lot of wood in his office, no last name. Do you work for him?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean I did, sir.”

  “That’s mighty interesting, Mr. Stewart. Did you know that you are a convicted criminal? All three of you?”

  “We know that sir.”

  “Good. Because I have to report back on your performance to the Militia. And if I determine your performance is unsatisfactory, you will go back to jail. The Militia might even send you south.”

  “I don’t want to go south, sir.”

  “Good. So here’s the thing, Stewart. Those reports you file to baldy better be good. And you better not interfere with any of my business. If you do, I’ll rat you out to the Militia, and there is nothing that baldy can do to stop them taking you back and putting you back in jail. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vidal regarded Jake for a moment.

  “Or perhaps I can do better. If you screw up enough, I’ll send you out to clean up control lines while we’re under acceleration, without life lines.”

  Jake swallowed. Crew weren’t usually on deck during any sort of acceleration. While the ship was maneuvering, it was too easy to drift off or drift into an ion thruster.

  “You see, Stewart, they can’t refuse me replacements if you’re dead. Think you can remember that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jake said.

  “Good. Now,” Mr. Vidal opened the door and stepped over the open hatch on the deck. “Time to do your job.”

  ***

  As Jake and Vidal climbed back down to the passenger deck, Zeke and Suzanne turned quickly around to face them.

  “Follow me,” Vidal ordered, and together the four of them walked down the corridor toward the airlock.

  “Sir, what is a multi-berth?” asked Zeke.

  Jake thought he could hear Vidal roll his eyes as he continued walking.

  “Usually, a ship like this would have its own airlock,” Jake quietly explained. “That way they can shut the doors and isolate themselves from the rest of the station. But a multi-berth’s got only one airlock for the whole truss section, and just a hatch for us. The free-traders use it because it’s cheaper and it’s easier to move cargo ship-to-ship, which they do a lot.”

  “It also means it’s swarming with thieves, I mean free-traders, and anything not tied down is going to get lifted. So, we need guards,” Vidal finished, glaring at Jake.

  Vidal opened the lock to the cargo hold and climbed through. The cargo hold was a series of metal trusses with attachment points. Some were solid lockers with doors and coded locks. Some were grill works. Higher value cargo and cargo that needed atmosphere were locked in the hold. Vidal gestured him through the upper cargo deck. Jake looked around keenly. He’d never been on the crew deck. It looked disappointingly like the passenger deck he and the LaFleurs were constrained to.

  “I have to buy some metals on the station, and I’ll need a guard. Ms. LaFleur will come with me to the port masters. Mr. LaFleur, you’ll be at the cargo lock while they work the containers there, and Stewart, you’ll be at the personnel lock. Ms. LaFleur, take a revolver,” Vidal said, opening a gun case on the wall. “Mr. LaFleur and Stewart, you get the shotguns.”

  Zeke and Suzanne looked cheerful, Jake swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Yes, sir,” answered Jake and Zeke.

  Vidal walked out of the room as Zeke handed a shotgun to Jake. Jake carefully checked to make sure that the safety was on. He racked it back and forth. Twice.

  “Worried about shooting yourself by accident, Jake?” Suzanne teased.

  “No. Kind of the opposite. One time I really wanted to shoot somebody, but I didn’t know the safety was on, so I couldn’t make it work. Then she took the shotgun from me, turned the safety off, and shot me in the chest.”

  “Merde. Were you hurt?” Suzanne asked.

  “No. I had a semi-hard suit on. It just dented my breastplate. But it hurt a lot.”

  “A girl took a shotgun away from you and shot you? I’d like to meet her. What was her name?” Zeke asked.

  “Nadine, and I hope I never meet her again. She got me in a lot of trouble. “

  “Sounds like fun,” Zeke said. “But we are ready for trouble, even though it probably will not happen here. But every time I talk to you, Jake, I learn more interesting adventures. And there always seems to be a girl involved. Did you get this girl at least?”

  “No such luck,” Jake said.

  “Well, who knows, perhaps your luck will change this trip,” Suzanne said, cocking a hip. “There are other girls. Was she as pretty as me, do you think?”

  Jake blushed and stammered out a reply. Is she flirting with me, thought Jake? He didn’t have time to find out because Vidal walked back into the room at that moment.

  “Time to do your job. Go. Now.”

  “Yes, sir!” they answered. Zeke hustled down the corridor toward the lower hatch and disappeared from Jake’s sight.

  Jake walked behind Vidal and Suzanne toward the personnel hatch.

  Vidal stopped and spun to Jake. “Pay attention, Stewart. Nobody comes onboard except me. Think you can do that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jake replied.

  “We’ll see. Let’s go,” Vidal said and set off. Suzanne gave Jake a smile and a wink as she set her gun belt low on her hip and swaggered off. She had a sort of sway that created a nice view from the back. She turned her head in time to catch Jake checking her out. She smiled and stuck her tongue out at him. He watched her the whole way around the corner, then shook his head. “You suck, Stewart. You’re going to die alone,” he said out loud.

  ***

  Jake stood at the edge of the airlock and looked around the station. He could see why Vidal wanted a guard. There were probably a hundred ships strewn along the truss corridor. The Petrel was probably the largest. The uniforms varied from dirty civilian clothes to bits of cast off corporate uniforms to elegant looking ground suits. There were food carts, computer-controlled loaders, messengers, random cargo loaders, and booths selling everything from alcohol to knives. People swarmed everywhere. It would be impossible to catch somebody once they vanished into this crowd.

  Jake’s eyes opened wider as he saw a man walk by with a string of small animals trotting behind him. They were small, four legged, covered with dark fur, and had short wagging tails. Dogs! They must be dogs! He had never seen a real dog, only in vids. He didn’t know how they survived in space. What happened to them in zero G?

  Jake’s mind was wondering, and he tried to focus. He couldn’t screw up this job. But this station was so strange compared to stations in the Belt. Back there, there were only a few hundred people, and he had known all of them or was related to them. And they never had more than one ship docked at a time. Strangers stood out. Jake looked around. All the strange people made him nervous. He wasn’t really sure what he was watching for. What would a thief look like?

  “Fried Potatoes, mister?”

  Jake was shaken from his
thoughts and looked down to find a young girl about two-thirds his height, probably fourteen or so, standing just in front of him. She was very thin, dressed in a patched skinsuit and station slippers. Her greasy black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she had acne on her face. She carried a plastic tray in front of her half full with chopped, fried super potatoes, half with plastic squeeze bottles.

  “Full size is only a half credit. I’ve got hot sauce, mustard, and vinegar to go with it.” The potatoes looked greasy and cold, like they’d been sitting in the tray for hours. Even if he was hungry, Jake wouldn’t have been interested.

  “Not for me, thanks,” said Jake.

  “You sure, sir? It’s tasty stuff,” she wheedled.

  “No thanks.”

  “I’ll take some, please, young lady, with mustard,” said a passing dark-haired man, stepping up beside Jake and holding out a coin.

  “Thanks, sir.” She turned to offer the potatoes to him in a paper bag. She handed it to him and pulled out a big bottle of mustard and shook it a couple of times. It stuck as she squeezed it. She squeezed harder, it stuck again. She tried a third time.

  SPLAT.

  “Crap,” Jake said, jerking back and looking down at the big mustard stain on his chest.

  “Oh, sorry. Sorry, sir,” said the girl, hurrying to help him. “I’m so sorry. It will come out. Here,” she said, pulling out a dirty rag and thrusting it at him.

  “It’s okay,” said Jake, taking the rag and trying to wipe himself off.

  “It will come off, no worry, sir. Here,” she pulled out another rag and handed it to Jake. He leaned the shotgun against the wall and began to mop the mustard off his chest. The girl leaned forward and began to help wipe off the rest, vigorously rubbing his chest with yet another rag.

  “There, sir. See, it’s all gone. Sorry, sorry again.” She turned and quickly walked away, vanishing into the crowd.

  Jake shook his head and inspected his chest. He could only imagine what Vidal would say if he returned to see a giant mustard stain on Jake’s chest. Luckily, it appeared the girl had cleaned it up well. She had been very thorough. He frowned as he thought of her insistence in helping, then reached down to his belt pouch.