The only constant, p.47
The Only Constant, page 47
part #7 of Samair in Argos Series
“How’d you find this out, Collins?” the first man demanded.
Collins gave him a disgusted look. “I got tired of draining my funds, Nelson, so I walked over and looked. I can read, you know.”
“You gonna sign up?” Hanson asked.
The first man, Nelson, harrumphed, arms crossed over his chest. “Probably have to be a citizen to even join.”
But Collins shook his head. “I know I sound like a commercial for this, but I’m done sitting around. The companies are willing to offer temporary work visas, as well as significantly reduced rates on lodging if you stay here on the station while you work. I didn’t come all the way out here to just sit and rot and then get jailed for vagrancy. They’re offering short as well as long-term contracts; I’m gonna take one.”
The other two exchanged glances. “I’ll take a look,” Hanson said. “Beats sitting on my duff.”
But Nelson shook his head. “Nah. Oh, steady work would be good, but I’m gonna hold off. I came out here to get rich, not work a nine to five.”
“No judgment,” Collins told him. “I’m going to work for a month and see how it goes. I know Beck, Sirra and Kent are in with me.”
“Sirra?” Nelson asked. “She’s getting her hands dirty? How the hell did that happen? What did you say to her?”
“Certain money now is better than a slim chance of a big fortune later,” Collins told him.
“Bah! I’d rather have the fortune,” Hansen said emphatically.
Collins only shrugged. “All our fortunes will come sooner or later.”
“Forever the optimist.”
Collins raised an eyebrow and his glass. “You’re the one chasing a dream and I’m the optimist.”
Hansen threw an algae chip at him, but Collins caught it in his mouth. He winked at the other man, who chuckled.
(((***O***)))
“We’ve had a slight uptick in applications in the last week,” Vincent commented and Tamara looked over at him and then back to her display.
“Yeah. A bit more than slight,” Tamara said. “Eighty-six applications yesterday. One hundred and four more today. Not a ton, I grant you, but a shade under two hundred more people is nothing to sneeze at.” She checked one of the data feeds and then blinked. “All but four of those applications were from the Republic fleet. They’re jumping ship?”
“What kind of jobs are they applying for?” he asked, interested. He sat more comfortably in the office chair he was occupying.
“Construction, optical welding, shuttle piloting, bot repair, line maintenance. The qualifications they’re claiming are wide-ranging.”
“I assume you’re going to vet them?” he asked.
“Yes, Vincent. I plan on fully screening anyone we hire from that fleet, just like I do with everybody.”
“I’m not questioning your professionalism, Tamara,” Vincent retorted primly. “I was asking a question.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, I know. It’s just a little nerve-wracking, hiring Republic personnel and yes, I am aware of the irony of that statement coming from me.”
Vincent smiled. “I’d wondered if you were going to admit that.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Mature, Moxie. I see where Stella gets it from.” He brightened. “Any bites on hiring ships for cargo transport?”
“I haven’t asked yet,” Tamara admitted. “I’ve been busy making sure the corvette parts have been recovered from the boneyard and are secure in Grania Estelle’s hold. I’ve got about eighty percent of what we need to get the Wreck fixed up and the Mash in order.”
He laughed. “The Mash? A tuber ship?”
“You’re hilarious,” Tamara replied, but she couldn’t hide a smile of her own. “We’re going to have to change the names anyway, so I figured a moniker of some sort was better than Project B.”
“Yeah, it is better, but you know that anyone working on the project isn’t going to take it seriously. You just made that the laughingstock job of First Principles.”
Tamara shrugged. “Honestly, as long as the ship is functioning, they can laugh all they want. Might help keep morale up.”
“I guess.” Then he frowned. “I thought you were all hot to trot about getting those ships recruited for carrying our cargo?”
“I am,” she replied. “But I don’t want to do anything until the Council makes up their minds. They won’t, not easily, but they won’t chase them off, either.”
(((***O***)))
Much to everyone’s surprise, it took only an additional two days for the Council to get their collective acts together and come to decision. It was an inevitable decision, which frankly surprised everyone who it affected. There was no way that the Council was going to turn away such a lucrative contract. Even if all they did was mine a large quantity of valuables from the belt and turn over a significant fraction to the Seylonique government, it would be a win. Hopefully, most of them would be willing to come back and establish a route to the Republic. A trade conduit that led from the Republic back to Seylonique could be only to the good.
“Ms. Terios, it’s good to speak with you again.”
“And you, Councilor Hroth,” the woman replied, as they spoke over the comms together. “Has the Council reached a decision?” It was a bit taboo, to come straight to the point in such high-ranking negotiations. Aumelda held her breath.
Carriger Hroth didn’t seem to mind. “We have. You’ll be pleased to know that any of your fleet that wishes to mine in the belt may do so. All individuals, as well as every ship in your convoy that wants to do so, will have to register themselves in the government office we are setting up on Guardian Station. Your license is to be displayed on your ship’s ID beacon while you are within the star system, or you may be subject to fines or seizure by the authorities. And a third of everything you mine must be turned over to Seylonique officials as payment for the minerals you extract.” She could see the leader’s eyes widen in shock, but she continued on as they started to turn indignant. “Everything in this star system is our property. We’re giving you the majority of the haul, we just want our fair share.”
“I think we can live with that,” Terios said, thanking the brilliant stars that Teeth Grit Fury was already outbound and nearly to the hyper limit at this point. “I’ll talk with the work gang leaders and the ship captains, see if they will work with this.”
“I’m afraid this is non-negotiable. It’s one third, or it’s no deal.”
“As I said I will speak with them. I can’t make them do anything.”
Carriger laughed. “Nonsense! I’ve been making a few inquiries. It was you, and I will bet my next chicken dinner it was you, that convinced all these disparate people to band together to come here to find their fortunes. If you tell them this is the way it’s got to be, I’m sure they will listen.”
“I will speak with them,” Terios repeated, but a very small smile quirked the edges of her lips. “I’m impressed at your intelligence-gathering network.”
“The help of security vid cams, strong drink, and loose lips. A friendly word or two in the right ear, a round on the house in the right bar.” She smiled, steepling her fingers in front of her muzzle. “All potent weapons when used properly.”
Terios couldn’t help but chuckle. “Indeed, Councilor.”
“One last thing. You need to make your ship captains understand that theft will not be tolerated,” Carriger warned. Her voice was hard but gentle, steel wrapped in wool. “Commodore Greer and his defense flotilla will be nearby to keep order and to patrol the area. This is the Argos Cluster, the frontier, and safety is a relative thing.”
Aumelda nodded gravely, hearing all permutations of her statements going through her mind. Patrols would turn into hunters should the expedition vessels not follow the rules. “I understand and I will make sure everyone else does as well.”
“Excellent,” Carriger said, clapping her large hands together. “We’ve got the office set up to handle a large number of people, over a thousand per hour. It will still take a while, to process everyone, but we can get each ship in and registered and your whole fleet did within a day. That, of course, presumes we can keep your people moving in an orderly fashion.”
Aumelda blinked in surprise. “That fast?”
Carriger flicked her ears. “We have the resources. It’s simply a matter of proper application.” Her neck fur ruffled, a tell Aumelda had grown to recognize in her dealings with lupusan: unease. It could be that the councilor was dealing with ten thousand foreign workers looking to get registered, or it could be that her “resources” weren’t really up to the task of handling so many.
Terios gave an inward sigh. It could be many things, many of which were unrelated to Aumelda’s interests.
“That sounds excellent,” is what she actually said. “I look forward to getting this done.”
“Then I look forward to seeing you in the office.” The councilor reached forward and pressed a control, ending the call.
Aumelda wasted no time. She immediately called Captain Jellico up in his ready room. “Captain, I’ve gotten the go-ahead from the local government.”
“Excellent news, ma’am,” he said, giving a small smile.
Wow, calm down, Captain. Your wild enthusiasm is embarrassing me! “Indeed, but things are about to get crazy in very short order. I need you to get all mining teams aboard Jaxon on their feet and over to the main government offices on level four, section two to get licensed and registered. I also need you down there with me so we can get papers for Jaxon. Get them started but you and I will still need to make some calls to the rest of the Expedition captains.”
“Understood, ma’am. We need to work out a schedule for the various ships?”
She touched her chin in thought. “Probably. At least until we see their operation. And, if at that point they really can handle the volume, we can keep things going smoothly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed fervently. “I’ll get our own teams moving right away.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Aumelda the call and immediately began composing a fleet-wide message.
“My friends, we have just received word that the governing council has lifted the ban on mining in the local asteroid belt. Registration for mining teams and ships has begun on the station. I am informed that everyone must be registered and those who refuse will have to speak with Seylonique security.”
“We have already begun. We are making the final steps now, my friends.” She smiled into the vid pickup for the recording. “Here is where the fun begins.”
(((***O***)))
“Are you ever going to be finished, Tamara?” Vincent teased, watching on the display as four shuttles flew into and began unloading into Grania Estelle’s number one cargo bay. “How much stuff are you bringing?”
“We need to get the Wreck and the Mash finished,” she reminded him. Both ships were locked down securely in the bay and stacks of crates and other spare parts arrayed around them, also locked down. “I’m also having eighteen large and twenty-six medium constructor bots delivered to Shadow Point, as well as a class-E smart computer to operate them all. I want these ships up and running ASAP.”
“What about Darvano?”
“I mean, we can pack her into bay one, but honestly, it would be easier just to have her follow along as escort,” Tamara said. “Give poor Captain Dree one last run in the girl before I take her away.”
“Why are you taking her away?”
“Because I need that third ship as collateral. She’s in the poorest maintenance shape of all First Principles Security Forces, but she’s by far the best of the lot that we’re going to give to the Republic. They’d need something to sweeten the pot. Two battered corvettes, neither of which look all that enticing aren’t probably going to be enough to get them to give me the cruiser. I’m not happy about it, but it’s necessary. I need to find something to make this up to Captain Dree.” She looked pensive for a moment, but then shook her head and looked back over to the display.
“Fine. We’ll drop them all off, then head to Ulla-tran. I want to get that route restarted right away. Hogan has been doing all right, but still…” He ran his hands over his scalp.
“Don’t get all huffy,” she chided, clicking a few more keys on her desk console. A line item highlighted, then shifted to another macro on the display. Tamara nodded her head in satisfaction. “There, it’s done. Another hour, three more shuttles, and you’re over to the fuel pier.”
Vincent grumbled to himself. Tamara couldn’t blame him. Grania Estelle was stuck here in Seylonique for weeks now, ever since returning from Instow. Minor maintenance was completed, Stella was now straining at the leash (in her words) to get back on the road.
“Right. Well. I hope all this nonsense with the corvettes is worth it, Moxie,” he grumbled. “It’s a hell of a lot of resources and labor to bring those ships up to ready. And you want to just trade them away for a garbage cruiser that we are just going to have to pour more money and time into.” He held up a hand. “And yes, I know you’ve done this sort of thing before with the smashed corvettes and the cruisers from the pirate attack on the Republic star system. But even with the economic boom we started here, Seylonique isn’t made of money. With the government paying to restore the battlecruiser, I can’t say for sure, but I’d bet they are overextended and the taxes they’re going to demand in the near future will be hiked considerably to cover things.”
Tamara nodded. “The AIs and Galina have been watching things and making all sorts of predictions. But all of them agree with you. Either we have to increase trade, considerably, or expect taxes to go up.”
“Both, more likely,” he mused. “Might need to try and increase our cargo runs, if we can.”
Tamara nodded reluctantly. “Take on as many jobs as we can, try and get some ships down to Folston and make an assessment of the markets there.”
“More population than here,” Vincent agreed. “We heard some small chatter when we were down there that their space industry had picked up considerably since we were there last. I wanted to swing by, but then the fleet showed up and we got sidetracked. That and we really needed to get back here.” He pursed his lips. “I could head back down…”
Tamara shook her head. “Absolutely not, Vincent. We have a regular run to Ulla-tran for fuel that needs to be restarted, meanwhile, we need more and better uses for your ship as a whole. These one-way fuel runs are not using her carrying capacity. There’s got to be something in Ulla-tran worth bringing here in serious quantity.”
“Nothing worth using the big girl for,” Vincent said, waving a hand. “Some bulk goods, foodstuffs, maybe. Their system was rather resource-poor. Enough for two holds, but not for seven. Might need to jump further out. Yullankla, maybe? They had lots to offer: raw materials, building materials, and a largely underemployed population.”
“Might be worth a look,” she agreed. “I’ll send First Horizon down to George and Folston to scope things out. Get us a feel for the markets.” She pursed her lips and tapped a finger on the desk. “We need a fast packet or courier or something. It’s a long trip down to Folston and waiting months to hear anything is so frustrating.”
Vincent smiled ruefully. “More ships, huh?”
“We do need it, Vincent,” she pressed.
“It would be good to have a fully-functional medium cruiser, I agree, as well as this fast packet ship. But we don’t need it. We also can’t afford it, currently. Our merchant fleet is turning a profit, but not nearly enough to justify fixing up that ship for ourselves. Unless you plan on selling it to someone once we’re done?” When she gave a noncommittal frown, he went on. “How many more ships can we reasonably justify with our current profits? Even with everything we got from the sale of the Guardian Station?”
“Then we need to expand the markets,” Tamara countered. “And the fast packet will do what Radius and the other new tramp freighters are doing: opening up new markets. Besides, with the money from Guardian Station, I think we can swing it.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” He crossed his dark arms over his chest. “Who do we get to crew this latest bauble on FP’s crown? The packet, I mean.”
“I told you, it’s necessary,” Tamara replied, a bit defensive.
“All right. Assuming I buy that, do you have a blueprint for such a ship? Because you pulled all of our R and D people to go run Shadow Point.” He watched as his reminder caused her to grimace. “You can slap huge hyperdrives and tons of shield nodes on the ship, but it would be ridiculous to power. You’d need a massive reactor and three dozen people to run everything. Unless there’s some new… unobtanium that you got your hands on while I was gone that puts out way more power than a standard he3 reactor, you’re not making a fast packet.”
“Well, to start, I wish we did have some of this unobtanium,” Tamara said seriously, and then gave a sardonic smile. “It’s not a question of finding some mythical power source. It’s about miniaturization, of which I do have blueprints. Three class delta-nine reactors deliver more than enough power to get the spaceframe we want well into the Blue of the hyperspace rainbow. The ship itself wouldn’t be all that big; three or four compartments at most. Could probably get away with a crew of two or three, one of them an engineer.” He looked skeptical. “Hey, have I ever not delivered on a project?”
Vincent gave a heavy sigh, then smiled slightly. “No, you always come through. I’ve just never seen that sort of ship before.”
She shrugged. “Not that hard and pretty common, actually. Though I admit, I haven’t seen one in Argos since I woke up. Marry a class-six hyperdrive with those reactors, make sure they have a Sigma or better type shield generator and you’re golden. It’s the low mass of the spaceframe that’s the key. All that together gives her the legs to get up to the Blue.”
