Koban Universe 1 (17 page)

The second note was
just as long in being composed.

He’d written, “No need, your mom
told me she will be home before noon today.” Lopsided grin again.

Faking a look of wonder for his audience of one, Ryan said,
“I’ll bet it was something big if it actually tore down the fence. I’d like to go in the backyard to play and take a look, if it’s OK.”

The next
note put an entirely different expression on Ryan’s young face.

It read,
“Guess not, lad. This morning I finished running a network connection that your dad left undone until he returned home. It puts the barn on Sam’s network. The recorders for the new cameras he installed are out there.” The lopsided smile was much wider, and he winked.

“
She told me you and Kam are cleaning up your own dead rhinolo. You’re both apparently grounded forever.”

The spotter, tipped off by his bribed contact in the Brisbane Space Port Authority, watched as the old, dark gray and midsized freighter, deftly and quietly settled on the cargo area’s tarmac, obviously using a Normal Space Drive. Obvious was an understatement, because most of the decrepit freighters that slunk into Brisbane used cheaper thruster technology. They landed with a roar of thruster flames.

That this old model ship had a modern tachyon powered drive, which could provide dependable gravitational and inertial control this deep in a gravity well, was further evidence that this was the freighter Gunther was on a retainer to spot. His contact told him the ship had transmitted a computer identification sequence that said it was an independent freighter, registered out of Kreiger’s Hope and named the Sparrow, with Fred Smith as its Captain.

Gunther’s crime lord employer believed this freighter visitor to New Australia, making its fourth landing here at the Port of Brisbane, was actually a smuggler’s ship named the Falcon, with an unknown new Captain that claimed to be the owner. That particular ship had once smuggled many kinds of profitable contraband between the planets of Bollovstic, Poldark, Gribble’s Nook, and Khartoum’s Destiny. It had upgraded its Tachyon Traps and had a new Jump drive that accessed the third level of Tachyon Space, making its Normal Space drives uncatchable by any planet’s budget strapped law enforcement craft once it lifted, and faster in Jump to the stars than all but the newest military ships, who didn’t normally exercise jurisdiction in civil matters.

That was all before the Krall’s first two planetary invasions, of course. Disorganized Bollovstic had fallen to the murderous aliens in less than eighteen months. Poldark was in its third year of fighting a methodical and measured Krall invasion, which everyone knew would slowly lead to their defeat, even with all the help the Planetary Union could possibly provide their armies. Gribble’s Nook had simply been abandoned by the mining interests that owned the lightly populated planet, after it suffered the first heavy Krall raid, leaving its wealth to the aliens, who proved uninterested in using the resources of the valuable mineral rich world. They didn’t want territory, the Krall only wanted to fight.

Khartoum’s Destiny, the remaining planet of that smuggler’s web, and the most lawless, was a pesthole Rim world ran by dozens of self-styled Sheiks, who all longed to return to the Islamic republic it had been when it was first settled. That was long before women gained ruling control of all human worlds and formed a central government. The men of Khartoum believed Shaytan had inspired infidel women scientist, who worked with jinni, to produce the virus of the Gene War, which had killed nearly all the men in Human Space, leaving women in charge everywhere.

Over three centuries, the self-declared Sheiks had eventually reasserted themselves as powerful and ruthless rulers of each of their territories on Khartoum. They maintained their control and Rim world status by refusing to join the Planetary Union as a New Colony. However, without a military, they were forced to pay lip service to the rules of conduct that the populous female dominated HUB worlds of the Planetary Union imposed. The PU could take them over if provoked far enough. Khartoum now was using the PU’s distraction with the Krall, to expand their interstellar smuggling and power ba
se.

Gunther’s boss, Mitch “The Switch” Carmody, sought to increase his own smuggling empire, located as it was here on a side of Human Space far from the Krall war. Establishing smuggling ties with Khartoum, located on the same side of the Rim of human settled worlds, was one way to get ahead of his local crime competitors, if he could link up with that wider and long
established smuggling network.

The Falcon, calling itself the Sparrow when it came here, was obviously still up to some sort of nefarious business, despite having lost access to most of its previous illegal markets. Otherwise, why use the added layer of subterfuge and expense of buying a phony registration code? Whatever the Falcon’s owner/operator was doing here, he was doing it under Carmody’s nose, in his own territory. There was no way that insult and intrusion into the local crime lord’s business could go unchallenged. However, killing the man and his crew, then taking the ship, might not be the most profitable thing for Carmody to do. Satisfying, yes, but money came first.

The spaceport was within Carmody’s criminal territory, as was all of Brisbane in fact, the second largest city on New Australia. This ship’s owner, if he was the Fred Smith  declared to be the ship’s captain, might be a way to achieve an introduction to one or more of Khartoum’s Sheiks, or their representatives. The Sheiks were not noted for their welcoming attitude to many past underworld figures that were not of their same faith. As numerous beheaded offenders could attest. Had they been able to speak, of course.

Carmody had some expendable people he could willingly send to talk, and offer Khartoum cooperative arrangements for mutual profit. However, getting off on the wrong foot (or head in their case), would sour any future relations.

Yet, somehow, the operators of the Falcon had managed to establish what was rumored to be a very profitable arrangement with those touchy Sheiks. Carmody wanted that introduction, or to use the Falcon’s owner as his intermediary. He’d make Captain “Smith” an offer he had better accept.

When that weasel Gunther called his lieutenant, Carl, to say the freighter he was watching for had landed, Carmody ordered the greasy little worm to shadow the blonde haired young captain and tell them where he was going.

Carl relayed the instructions, but when he cut the call to their toady, he asked his boss a question. “Mitch, that runt might lose him. Don’t you want someone more competent on his guy’s tail? He might have some of his crew along with him when he leaves the ship. If they are up to something shady, they’ll be watchful. More eyes might spot Gunther. He blends in OK around the port, and near the bars and whorehouses. If the man you want heads into town, Gunther will stand out in a crowd of clean cut citizens.”

“This Smith, when he was here before, almost always stayed around the port area, went into many of the bars, some of them ours. He apparently met his contacts there, and picked up some of the classier looking women. Never had anything to do with our contract whores, male or female.

“I wasn’t on the watch for him on his first two trips, but he arranged the purchase of several dozen high tech space planes, and tons of basic consumer products. That took some serious money, and he paid cash. Or rather had gold, platinum, and gemstones that he converted to cash. Hell, I made money from the ridiculous exchange rate charged at our bank, which is what brought him to my attention. Brody, the bank president, said he’d made similar transactions on two previous trips, but none as large as that one. He didn’t bat an eye at the five percent surcharge on top of the PU standard fee for the exchange. Money wasn’t a concern.

“After that, I had my AI search the old surveillance footage of the street cameras, from inside the bank, and in our bars and clubs he visited. I wanted to know what he bought, who he bought it from, and how it was delivered, since it wasn’t through me.”

Carl asked, “We having any of our competitors get involved on your territory?” He wondered why the boss hadn’t sent him and some of the men out to “correct” the situation. This was news to him.

“That’s the odd part. It all stayed under my radar, because he didn’t buy anything illegal. The space planes are hard to come by, but are sold to any planetary government that can afford them, and want more raid protection if the Krall send a clanship of novices to call on ‘em. The consumer goods were made here, and delivered directly to his ship. None of it was expensive, or specialty items. It’s low profit crap, like household electronics, smart plastic reconfigurable furniture, electric scooters and cycles for off road use. The sort of low cost stuff sold to Rim worlds as their population increases. I got the usual under the table export fees from the companies that make the stuff. We got the standard protection bribes to our drivers in our trucks, to not steal any of the cheap useless shit we couldn’t give away.”

Part of it didn’t make sense to Carl, or the lack of agitation on the part of his normally volatile boss. “Mitch, some of those space planes passing through here could have sort of fallen off the trucks, so to speak. They must be worth millions of Hub credits each.”

Carmody shrugged and grimaced. “They were shipped directly from the factory on some Hub world to the customer. I didn’t bother to check out the production process, since that all took place where we can’t get a cut. However, I wanted to know where they went. I paid a small bribe to a freighter captain that made a delivery, only to discover
he’d have told me for nothing.

“The delivery location proved to be in an uninhabited system, and the sealed cargo containers and spare parts were left in high orbit around a barren rocky planet. The customer had left a radio beacon and a message, which asked them to unload and leave if they wanted to collect the safe delivery bonus, left in escrow with the manufacturer.” He admired the secrecy and the tactic. It wouldn’t have worked as well if Carmody had been involved with the shipment.

“The Captain of the Falcon slash Sparrow’s only contacts for the space planes met him here one time, showed him some data and specifications, discussed some required structural and equipment modifications, and arranged payment in advance and delivery. I learned this from the servers, bartenders, and hotel staff that saw them talking in a conference room of the Rialto Hotel. I also had one of our people steal the video and audio of that day. The meeting didn’t draw attention because it was done openly and legally. Same for the crap from here that he bought.”

“Then why do you think he’s still involved with smuggling?”

Snapping in frustration, Carmody said, “Because he uses a phony ship registration to visit here, and names like Fred Smith, dumb ass. He sent a few billion credits worth of space planes to an empty solar system, and when he leaves here, that ship of his seems to vanish. I pay enough to the sorry assed customs pukes here to get copies of what goes in and out of here, and on other Rim worlds, to discover what’s worth stealing, and when and where to steal it. I bribe a woman in the Port Authority for departure and arrival databases throughout most of Human Space. No freighter of this exact description or name shows up with the same cargo that it leaves here with, not at any port I can find. It does sometimes come and go at Poldark, where it was based before the invasion, and is still registered there as the Falcon. However, with the military security in charge, I can’t find out what he’s really doing there. For damn sure, Poldark doesn’t need cheap household goods from here.”

Delicately, so as not to trigger his boss’s quick temper, Carl expressed his curiosity. “Mitch, if Smith doesn’t smuggle through our port, or buy anything worth stealing from here, why do you care?”

A hand slap to the table sounded like a gun crack. “Because I know that sneaky bastard’s up to something, because that ship owner once had smuggler dealings with Khartoum, and I want to use him to get the same deal with those towelhead Sheiks. If we can expand our off world markets through their networks, I can force the other mobs on New Australia to go through me to get to those new markets. If I can find out what we have that the Sheiks want, whether it’s young blonde girls, or little boys, I don’t give a shit. I’ll sell ‘em what they want. Then buy and resell what they have that anyone else wants. It’s good business.”

Carl nodded. “I hope he goes where Gunther can follow.”

“I think he will. At least on his three prior trips here, per the Tri-Vid my AI pulled of him. Smith’s frequent stop is one of my bars, the Mechanics Lounge, right next to the port maintenance hangers. Seems the good captain claims he worked his way up from a ship’s engineering job before he got his own command. He chugs beers and booze with any ship engineers or drive rats he finds, buying drinks, and sharing outlandish stories. Later, when he leaves them happy and drunk, he usually heads to Club Roo. He has numerous drinks playing poker at a table with one of the several attractive poker dealers in the casino. When she gets off work, he takes her to bed. They don’t ever seem to turn him down.”

“How does an old former engineer hold all that booze, and then get in bed with one of those dealers? The Roo is a classy joint and those dealers are young and beautiful. I wish you owned that place.” He stopped suddenly, feeling stupid. Carmody had tried to buy the place multiple times, but the wealthy Lady that owned the hotel and casino refused to sell it to a criminal organization.

Luckily, the comment didn’t piss his boss off. “Smith won’t make a date tonight, nor win like he usually does at poker. Not if he hits the Mechanics Lounge, or the Flea Bag bar and grill I own on the same street. He likes the plain simple foods around spaceports. But he isn’t as old as you seem to think.”

He reached over to press a button to activate a voice link to his AI. He didn’t like it listening to his conversations, even if it belonged to him. The government could extract incriminating evidence, even if he did a full erase. “Hey, play that video of Smith entering the Mechanics Lounge the first time.” He then switched the Link off, and turned to a wall screen. Carl swung around to see what his boss needed him to see.