Metal Boxes - At the Edge Page 15

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Not.”

  Stone held up his hand. “Skeeter, the fact that you stuck your foot between his and pushed him over just as you were about to be swarmed by a rioting crowd, is not in dispute.” He held up both hands to keep from being interrupted. “The whole incident was recorded, Skeeter. Do we need to watch the playback?”

  Skeeter hung his head in defeat. “No.”

  Stone said, “Since Bethy Stone fired you, I can’t send you back to her for punishment, and I can’t just toss you off the ship out here at the edge of human space on a half-civilized planet. So, until we get back to Lazzaroni or a similarly settled world or station, you are to find and report to Tim Dollish. Tell him I said to put you to work in the kitchens. Now get out.”

  Skeeter shouted, “But what about Hector? He attacked me and hit me a lot, and…and…that other guy did too.”

  Stone asked, “How many times did he hit you, Skeeter?”

  “Sixteen or a bunch more. I don’t know.”

  “Hector? How many times did you hit Skeeter?”

  Hector looked thoughtful, pantomiming a few swinging fists. “Three, sir. I’da hit him sixteen, though, but some guy pulled me off.”

  Skeeter shouted. “See? He admits it. What kind of punishment does he get?”

  Hector shrugged and nodded.

  Stone said, “Skeeter, you are dismissed. Go find Tim Dollish now.”

  “But—”

  “No delays, Skeeter or I’ll have you strung up on the hangar deck and whipped for leaving a comrade behind in danger. Take this punishment as a gift and don’t ever let me see you in my office again.”

  Stone remembered a similar UEN non-judicial punishment where CDR Butcher handed out punishment fit for the crime. After Skeeter exited his office, he smiled to himself and looked at Hector. This was not the UEN, but the owner or captain of a civilian ship in space holds much the same power.

  “Okay, Hector. Your biggest failing is that you hit Skeeter three times and he could still get up and fight back. That is unacceptable on my ship. Dammit, man, you shouldn’t have had to hit him but once. You are now assigned to Hammermill. You are not a part of his deck crew…yet. I won’t put a man on a good crew that can’t handle himself. But, you will ask Hammermill to teach you to fight. That is your job, learn it well, or you will follow Skeeter off the ship at the next civilized port. Beyond that, stay out of my office, and stay away from Skeeter. Now get out and go find Hammer before I decide to throw you to my drascos for lunch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Stone tugged at his tuxedo collar. It felt more restrictive than his old UEN class A uniform. He did have to admit that even without medals on his chest and the flashy, red stripe down his trouser legs, this outfit was prettier than any military uniform.

  He wondered why mens fashions had not changed much since the invention of pants, but womens fashions fluctuated wildly every few years. His tuxedo was dark blue, much more sedate than the gold lamé shirt he wore earlier, but it also had shiny protective metal in it.

  Allie tugged at the cummerbund, pulling it into place. “There. That looks straight.”

  Stone glanced down at his waist. The pleated sash looked silly. “What’s that for? It looks like a crumb catcher or maybe a good place to stash a knife.”

  Allie laughed, “I don’t think the Prophet’s enclave is going to be the kind of party you’ll need a knife for, do you?”

  “No. Why can’t you go with me?”

  “Because you have to take Bethy as your date. You know that. If I go, she or that cinematographer of hers will recognize me as your fiancée and I don’t trust either one of them to not spill the beans about us.”

  “But Hammer and his whole team are going. Aren’t you afraid they’ll recognize him?

  “A little, but he hasn’t shaved in a week or so and looks kind of scruffy, not at all like a marine. Besides, he isn’t engaged to you.”

  “You keep mentioning that.”

  “I don’t want you to forget about that when you’re out with Bethy Stone. Remember, she’s just a part of our cover for Agent Ryte’s investigation. We have three people out there unaccounted for. We don’t want the Prophet or his people getting suspicious and start looking for them.”

  Stone turned, causing his suit to flash. “How will anyone ever be able to look? One glance at me in this lamé tuxedo and they’ll be blinded for life.”

  Allie said, “It’s not lamé, you goof. Oh, it’s bullet resistant, but lamé has metal strips woven into the fabric. This is more of a guipé, where the metallic ribbons are wrapped around the threads. Stronger and even a bit more knife blade resistant.”

  “Guipé? How do you know what that is?”

  Allie’s eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t always a marine, you know.”

  Stone leaned in close and kissed her nose and her lips. “I didn’t think you’d been born a marine and I love you for it.” He kissed her again and would have done it again, but she pushed him away. With a sigh, he added, “I know you used to teach math and you grew up in potato country, remember?” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with concern. “I also remember that your mother is clergy at a small community church. Do you have any problems with us investigating a theocracy?”

  Allie smiled, “Mom used to be clergy. She took an early retirement when I started earning enough as a marine officer to help support her.” She glanced at her P.A. to check the time. “It’s getting late, bub. You better get a move on. You don’t want to be more than fashionably late, do you?”

  Stone hesitated, then asked, “Wait! If she’s retired, why hasn’t your mother been able to get away to meet me?”

  Allie chuckled, “We’ve been busy the last few years, remember? Besides, she met some real nice people and has been taking quite a tour of human space the last few months. She took a berth on…let’s see, what was the name of that ship…oh yeah, the Golden Boulder.”

  She pushed him out the front door of his lake home and slammed it behind him before the information sank in that Allie’s mother was wandering around the galaxy with his parents and grandparents.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Stone had business at the spaceport before he could meet Bethy to go to the Prophet’s enclave. No matter what else was going on, he was on Holliman’s Rift as an advance agent for the Stone Freight Company. Finding and securing freight business for his family was more than just a cover for EMIS Agent Ryte. He doubted he could find enough business to justify his oversized space-going party barge, but making the effort was good for the family coffers as well as maintaining Ryte’s cover.

  From what he had seen, the theocracy had developed a growing economy. It was agribusiness based, but growing into the first throes of light industrialization. Whatever its methods, the government was maintaining full employment. From the looks of the data Doctor Emmons gleaned from the planet’s net, it was a seller’s market with more money to spend than goods to spend it on. That should engender runaway inflation, but not here. The income of the average worker was growing, but their standard of living was only minimally affected.

  Emmons’s best guess was that the average worker’s excess cash went into buying lottery tickets, lotteries that might make the winner exceedingly wealthy. She could not find any indication of sales or income taxes, so their lottery was essentially like a voluntary tax. Wherever their disposable income was going, Stone’s business was to divert it into the coffers of his family.

  Walking from his quarters to the shuttle hangar deck, he tapped his P.A. to open comms. “Tim, are you ready to go?”

  Dollish answered promptly, “Waiting for you, Boss. Get a hustle on. Those businessmen won’t wait for us forever, you know.”

  Jay and Peebee raced up the ramp just ahead of him. They were not necessary for business negotiations, but the Prophet had expressed an interest in meeting the drascos. Taking them along in the Marvin would mean they
would ride down to the planet with him, rather than squeeze into the Vance with Bethy and however many people of her entourage she planned to bring along. They needed room to return the rescued civilians who had not refused to go back to the planet. More than one of the locals had requested asylum. Whether they wanted to get away from the Prophet or just wanted to live in the luxury of the Platinum Pebble had not been determined yet.

  Both the drascos wore their flashy chrome armor. Jay’s blue filigree was now jewel encrusted and Peebee’s red flames were gold leaf edged. Both were shined to a high gloss.

  Sure enough, Dollish was already aboard the shuttle waiting for Stone when he reached the top of the ramp. He did not mind taking Dollish along for this meeting, after all, no one expected a rich kid to show up alone to a meeting with important planetary businessmen. His friend was decked out in a flashy dark business suit, something an average working Joe would sneer at in a catalog, but secretly think he would look good in, despite his beer gut.

  Dollish did not have a beer gut. Still military trim, he stood straight, but was altogether uncomfortable looking. He tugged at the hem of the suit jacket. It was already straight as a tailor could make it, but tugging on the hem caused the Stone Freight Company logo over the left breast pocket to shimmer. “Why are we all decked out like man whores for a business meeting, sir?”

  Hammermill, standing just behind him, gave him a quick light punch on the shoulder. “We aren’t just Signore Stone’s security team and advisors, we’re his distraction, Tim. That’s the same reason we’re bringing Tuttle along. She looks good in a fight.”

  Tuttle grinned, giving a little shimmy. Stone would have sworn the shimmy would have popped loose every stitch on her dress. The dress appeared more painted-on than skin-tight.

  Hammermill continued, “Distraction isn’t just a military technique, you know. It is a fantastic negotiation tactic.”

  Stone asked, “How so, Hammer? I mean, I don’t mind you guys coming along. I shouldn’t need security, but this is a meeting about business, right?”

  Hammermill grinned. “I is just a grunt, remember? So, we put this in marine terms. Negotiations are an adversarial event. It may be that we’re meeting with friendly adversaries, but—”

  Dollish interrupted, “Wait—what? Friendly adversaries?”

  Hammermill said, “It’s an oxymoron, a figure of speech. It’s like when we first met the piglets. I wasn’t on the bridge that day.”

  Dollish shrugged. “Me neither.”

  Stone interrupted and opened the comms to the pilot. “Let’s close this up and get on the way.”

  Tuttle retracted the ramp and closed the hatch.

  Stone said, “Well, I was on the bridge that day. The piglets came at us like adversaries. Hot, angry, and ready to fight. But, they were more than willing to be friendly should things go that way. We distracted them with a pretty face.”

  Dollish asked, “I thought Sissy talked them down?”

  Stone shrugged, “She did.”

  Dollish asked, “So you think Sissy is pretty enough to be a distraction?”

  Stone shrugged again, “How should I know? I’m not a piglet. I can guarantee that Barb is a distraction. If she doesn’t quit moving around, something is going to bust loose.”

  Tuttle wiggled faster. “The possibility that something will break free is what most men find distracting. However, I can guarantee that nothing will show.” She leered at Stone. “Of course, we could make arrangements to get me out of this dress, if the right guy asked.”

  Hammermill laughed, “The right guy? As opposed to the guy standing on the left?”

  Tuttle grinned, “Well, when the men line up to ogle my goods, that gives me a fifty-fifty chance of getting out of the dress. The rest will be too distracted to make nice-nice with contract details.”

  Stone said, “I don’t think we’re at the contract stage yet. Just looking for trade and shipping possibilities.”

  Hammermill said, “No, Signore Stone. Strike fast. Strike first. Strike hard.”

  Stone nodded in agreement with his three-team members. Just because he was Tammie Ryte’s cover as a gadabout playboy did not mean he could not actually do a little business for the family. He needed to remember he could not talk about being the cover since Tim did not know about Ryte’s real purpose for being aboard the Platinum Pebble.

  Hammermill laughed and tapped his skull just behind his ear. “Combat insertion.”

  Stone asked, “What?”

  Hammermill answered, “After a few hundred combat landings in hot zones, a good marine can feel something in their inner ear when doing a screaming dive into a hostile atmosphere.”

  Stone felt nothing. The Platinum Pebble had slowly changed atmospheric pressure to match the planet. The shuttles matched the ship. “Only good marines feel it?” He rubbed his ears without effect.

  Hammermill replied in an off-hand, matter-of-fact manner, “Other kinds of marines don’t live long enough to make hundreds of combat jumps.”

  Dollish said. “All of our shuttle pilots are ex-military.” His voice sounded more than a little sad.

  Stone could tell Dollish was not as cavalier about losing his veteran’s status as he pretended. He had matured and flourished in the UEN. His anger about the UEN’s treatment of Stone had caused him to act rashly, throwing away a chance at a great career. It did not seem fair since Stone knew his treatment at the UEN hands was fraudulent and would be repealed once they found out if the Prophet was responsible for supplying the Hyrocanians with warships.

  Dollish continued, “We have more than our fair share of ex-military on this ship.” He rolled his eyes looking at Hammermill and Tuttle. “I guess Captain Numos likes to surround himself with veterans. That’s okay. I’ll bet I’m just about the only non-veteran crewman aboard.”

  Stone said, “I’d take that bet. There is me. I lost my status. Had it taken away while you gave yours up. Also, did you forget about Kat Emmons?”

  Dollish laughed, “Her? Nope. She did a stint in the military with the Medical Corps, didn’t you know? She’s a veteran, too.”

  Stone clapped Dollish on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Tim. You and I may not have the official status, but we all fought together more than once.”

  Dollish’s reply was interrupted as the ramp dropped to the spaceport tarmac.

  Hammermill started toward the ramp as if he naturally expected everyone to follow him without asking. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks.”

  Stone laughed, “Aye, aye, Hammer. You taking point?”

  Hammermill laughed, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Boss.” He gestured to the ground transport skidding to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. “I assume our hosts have sent us a ride.”

  Stone climbed aboard the vehicle and glanced around. There was no sign of the earlier riot and no one was around to see their coming and going.

  He nodded a greeting to the driver and stuck his hand out to the head of spaceport security. “Ailette, I’m sorry about what happened the last time we were on your turf.”

  Ailette shook his hand. Her grip was firm and dry. Even without smelling burnt engine oil, he could tell from her glare that she was not happy to see him again. Today the scent was not strong enough to cause him concern. “I’ve been buried under a flurry of security camera replays and writing reports since your last little visit.”

  She glanced at Jay and Peebee, not showing any worry or fear at the drascos standing next to their ride. “Those are drascos, huh?”

  Stone smiled. “Yes. Jay and Peebee. I was told the Prophet wanted to meet them.”

  “Should I order up a truck to them to ride in?” She asked Stone.

  Jay answered through her TTS. “No thank you. Your sun feels nice and warm. We can walk.”

  Ailette looked surprised. “They…they talk?”

  Peebee wonked in amusement and said, “No. We don’t, but we have machines that talk for us.” She stretched her neck through
the opening to the transport. Taking a long sniff of the security chief, she withdrew.

  Stone was sure she had decided the security woman was not a significant threat to Stone.

  Peebee spoke to Stone without her TTS, “It’s okay to talk about our translators, isn’t it, Mama?”

  Stone answered, “It’s okay to talk about your voice machines, Peebee. If they were a secret, the UEN let the goat out of the barn bringing that tech up during my court-martial.”

  Ailette gawked at the drascos. “They don’t look like they did in the vidcast when you fought the aliens.”

  Stone said, “I haven’t seen the vid, but I’ve read the book. It’s more fiction than fact, especially when it comes to drascos and Hyrocanians.”

  Ailette said, “Strange creatures all, but the Prophet says they are all God’s creatures and that someday we will all live together in harmony.”

  Stone said, “Harmony will be a good thing, I think.”

  Ailette said, “A good thing, I know.” She tapped the driver on the shoulder and pointed at a building across the spaceport. “Before you get into your meeting, I wanted to check in with you, your people, and the Prophet’s subjects you took with you.”

  Stone said, “My people and I are fine. We managed to get off the planet without any real damage to our people.” He did not want to mention that some of the refugees were refusing to come back to Holliman’s Rift.

  Ailette said, “Your dust off was timely. The riot fizzled out once you were gone. I didn’t even have to call in the Prophet’s Guard to quell the violence. There were a few minor injuries, nothing emergency medical teams couldn’t get fixed, but we did have a few more arrests than I wanted.”

  “Arrests?”

  “We are a new planet, sir, but inciting to riot is still a crime. Fortunately, for your cousin, the Prophet has pardoned her part in starting that mess. But, violence against invited visitors can’t be tolerated. Fifty-three of our citizens have already been judged guilty of crimes against society and sent off to the work camps.”