Anomalous Cargo - Chapter 2

[Fhg#1893]

Anomalous Cargo - Chapter 2

The next stazura Tred considered far better than the last. The dizzying effect of space fuel was in full effect on Tred, and his head lolled from side to side, as he watched a series of young, curvacious Argon magicians continue making their clothes disappear.

There was an old Goner saying which went something to the effect that, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Tred didn't really believe in magic. While he really didn't know much about the inner workings of advanced technology, he knew enough to know that a high-energy plasma thrower, a 25 megawatt shield, or even a space gate, while all highly advanced, they were definitely not magic.

As far as Tred was concerned though, watching lovely Argon girls make their clothes disappear was definitely magic, and they must therefore be magicians.

At the moment Tred's most perplexing dilemma was deciding which he liked more, whiskey, or the entertainment. At length he found it simply too difficult to choose one over the other, and decided to continue enjoying both in equal measure.

Roughly half a stazura later, Tred was joyfully trading blows with one of the bar's bouncers, having decided that he really did prefer the entertainment to the whiskey.

Half a stazura after that, Tred was peacefully sleeping off what could best be described as an alcohol induced coma, in the station's brig, nestled comfortably between two Teladi who had tried to cheat at one of the station's gambling halls.

When he did finally regained consciousness, two stazuras later, he would have been very gratified to know that his loud snoring had greatly annoyed everyone else in the entire brig, including the station's peace officers, if it hadn't been for three things: the incessant pounding in his head, the realization that his left-eye had been mysteriously turned a
disgusting purple-blue colour, and that in order to be released from the brig, he had to pay a rather substantial fine, which he grudgingly did.

But on the positive side of things, the cure had worked, because apart for a very fleeting memory of something to do with a Split eating an unusually large lobster, he had completely forgotten about his insufferable Boron passenger.

Tred resolved to get back to his ship, and find some work, and fast, because he was now quite broke. He got into his spacesuit, and as soon as the helmet was sealed cursed himself for not availing himself of the station's facilities while he had the chance. Tred returned to his ship a heavily modified Split Scorpion, which he liked to call the Pride of Decker, just as fast as his jets could take him.

Tred was just entering the cabin, quite thankful that he'd had a small refresher with a water-tank installed, even though it had cost him a substantial number of credits, and just about every station in the known universe thought he was crazy for paying the extra docking fees to have water transferred to his ship, every time he docked, when he noticed that his message indicator was flashing. Tred strongly considered ignoring it for the time being, but curiosity finally got the better of him. There would be plenty of time to shower now that his helmet was off, and was breathing comfortably.

"Computer, play waiting message." he commanded.

"Message is encrypted, please enter decryption password."

Tred was shocked. It had been at least half of a wozura since he'd received an encrypted message.

"Computer, on what channel was waiting message received?"

"Message received on encrypted channel alpha-one."

Tred's eyes widened; real, lucrative work at last!

"Decryption password, Teladi smell of spaceweed."

"Decrypting... Decryption complete."

Tred was slightly dismayed at the sum of credits offered for the assignment, considerably less than his usual fee, but it was more than enough to keep him swimming in space fuel and wenches for a wozura, and that was promising enough in and of its self. The message read:

TO: JACK OF SPADES-1
FROM: GRYPHON

URGENT DELIVERY CONTRACT OFFERED. PICKUP LOCATION: PRESIDENT'S END. DESTINATION: CEO'S DOUBT TRADE STATION (REGISTRATION: TDOTA-00). TIME: 4 STAZURA, COMMENCES ON ACCEPTANCE. STIPULATIONS: COURIER IS NOT TO EXAMINE CARGO. CARGO CONTENTS ARE NOT TO BE SCANNED. ON ARRIVAL, LEAVE SHIP UNATTENDED FOR 70 MIZURAS. PAYMENT RELEASED ON DELIVERY. DO NOT ATTEMPT CONTACT. PAYMENT OFFERED: 70,000 + 10,000 (INSURANCE).

There was an account number and password where the funds would be deposited once he accepted the contract. As a matter of business practice, Tred always checked that the credits had actually been deposited before making pickup, but they wouldn't be available to him until he made delivery. The result would be that his account would end up slightly overdrawn due to docking fees, at least until he could collect payment. The contract was slightly dodgy, but at this point, Tred was willing to take anything.

What Tred did wasn't always legal. That this particular contract stipulated that he not examine the cargo, and that the cargo wasn't to be scanned virtually guaranteed that he would be carrying something that the various authorities would consider contraband.

That he was heading for CEO's doubt, only one jump away from Loomanckstrats Legacy, and the largest pirate base in the known universe was probably no accident at all.

There was always the chance that a former employer who was unhappy with his services would contract him to transport something explosive, and happen to detonate it while he was en route. Tred considered that this was just another occupational hazard of being in his particular line of business, and he had disappointed a few employers before. And besides, disgruntled clients normally offered substantially more than a courier's usual fee; that was normally a big clue.

To dissuade disgruntled clients from seeking vengeance, most couriers took out life insurance policies with the Zorilla Corporation. A Teladi business (what business didn't find Teladi in it somewhere these days?), the standard Zorilla life insurance policy would, on the untimely death of the insured pay out a substantial amount of money to a Zorilla contractor who would use the funds to track down whichever party had arranged said death, and then post a substantial bounty on the head of the offending party. Mostly, this business practice had the desired effect, only the most incensed of clients would seek retribution. This also sometimes had
the effect of discouraging pirate attacks, but this was a fringe benefit. Usually the pirates would attack anyway, and they'd end up dead, or the courier would. You didn't survive long as a courier if you weren't a good combat pilot as well.

Tred thought this practice was for suckers. As far as he was concerned, there was still one big disadvantage to life insurance; if things went very wrong, he was no less dead. For combat, Tred relied much more on the four alpha high-energy plasma throwers mounted to the front of his ship, and to disuade angry former employers, Tred had something even better.

Jazuras ago, Tred had set up what could be called a trust fund on himself. If something went wrong with a contract, Tred would divert a small portion of those funds to monitoring recently posted bounties. If one came up with his name and ship's registration, then Tred would bribe some very capable people to make sure that two things would happen. First, that "Tred Decker" would meet with a very unfortunate accident at the hands of pirates, and second that he would become someone else; a completely new identity, new ship registration, maybe even a new ship, all very complete down to the last detail. So far, this had worked twice before. Tred Decker was not Tred's his real name, but it suited him well enough at the moment.

He checked the message time. The contract was only going to be available for another four mizuras!

"Computer! Calculate estimated flight time to CEO's doubt trading station, passing through President's End system. Use most direct route."

"Stand-by... Estimate based on specified paramaters, at maximum speed, trip will take 3.62 stazuras."

Tred groaned. If things went wrong, he wouldn't have very much time to spare. The trip involved going through several pirate sectors, and a few Argon and Boron core sectors where there was a substantial likelihood that he might get scanned. Sometimes, making the border patrol angry was more than enough to end a courier's career. In such situations, Tred would normally take routes which avoided the normal routes for customs patrols, but that took time. This contract wouldn't afford him that luxury. But credits were credits, and Tred might not get another opportunity like this for a very long time.

"Computer, signal contract acceptance, preform systems check and startup sequence. Obtain departure clearance, and depart station. Lay in course for President's End system and engage as soon as we've cleared station safety corridor activate SETA."

The computer took a few sezura to analyze his list of demands.

"Confirmed, preforming systems check."

Credits and real work had almost made Tred forget about his headache, but not quite.

"Computer, activate cargo bay refresher. And alert me when we reach President's End."

By the time the computer acknowledged his request, Tred had already vanished into the cargo bay.

[SOTS]

1) Yay Arthur C. Clarke and his Third Law of Technology

and 2) Effing awesome story. Wanna write mine for me?

[Captain Chris sTc]

That's quite a morning after, quite a night before.
And that must be quite a fine whiskey and a very hefty fine to drain that much cash out of his account, in one night. quite a night indeed.

I wonder what sort of shiskey space fuel tastes liek any how. or is it just a general term and there isa a large variety of space fuels. Gotta try them all.

any how. I guess there is a gonna be a few complications in his little trek accros the universe. can't wait to find out what the "complications are".

[Syndrome]

Good read I've got a feeling there's something different about you Perhaps you're a real writer Care to enlighten us

[Fhg#1893]

SOTS - Not at the moment I'm afraid. If I devote my focus, I might never finish, and I sense that would be a tragedy.

Syndrome - Nice to pass for a real writer, but no, I'm not. I'd love to sell egosoft a story, but I must first finish this one.

[Madw0lf]

Oh great, now Ive got four good stories to try to keep track of in here.

Good stuff man, keep it up!