Stars in the Sand (11 page)

 Garland was waiting for him at the dispensary, a pair of pills in hand and a smile on his face. He tossed them across the room to Cooper, then gestured at a bulb of water hanging from a strap by the side of the room.

 “
One for the hangover, one for the jump,” he said. “Bon appetit.”

 “
You’ve been hanging around with Duquesne for too long.”

 Cantrell dived in, almost crashing into him, her arm flailing around. “Got another one of those, Roger? I think I left my stomach back on Alamo.”

 Shaking his head, Grogan reached into a draw
er
for the bottle, saying, “Don’t get used to this. I haven’t got that many of them until we get a chance to resupply. There usually isn’t much call for them on Alamo.”

 “
Say, did you see the Mule talking to the Captain at the party,” she said. “Bet they were talking about me.”

 “
The Mule?”

 “
Mulenga.”

 “
You probably need to watch that,” Grogan said. “What makes you think they were talking about you.”

 “
He thinks I’m a personnel problem. That I don’t pay enough attention, or something like that.”

 “
Cheer me up and tell me we have someone other than you tuning the sensors,” Grogan said with a sigh. “This trip is getting worse by the minute.”

 “
Well, do you have a problem?” Cooper said.

 “
I don’t like being bored.”

 “
Cantrell, space travel is long periods of boredom interspersed with periods of sheer, unadulterated terror,” Grogan said. “Take it from a med-tech on his fourth tour with Alamo. Savor the boredom, relish every moment if it. When it isn’t around, you’ll find you miss it. Put in for a transfer to medical if you want some real fun.”

 “
Come on,” she replied, “why did you even sign up for this anyway?”

 “
Because Ouroboros needed a med-tech, and no-one else from my department had signed up. I’m filling a needed role, and it’ll look good the next time I go up before a promotions board. You never know, the Captain might even give me a battlefield bump. He’s done it before.”

 “
This is just a job to you?”

 
“
Eight hours a day, seven days a week, twenty-eight days of paid leave a year and good pension benefits, Spaceman. Plus I get to serve my country, which is a nice bonus, and they pay for all of my training. In a few years I can sign up with any one of a dozen hospitals at a nice job and settle down. Don’t you have a plan? What about you, Cooper?”

 
“
Hell, I am...was, doing exactly what I wanted. Still, I figured that I’d end up with a corporate security outfit at some point. Deep space experience would look good.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Though I thought that would happen in fifteen, twenty years, not now.”

 “
Scuttlebutt said you were transferring to the Fleet,” Cantrell said.

 
“
The deck telegraph got it wrong. It was offered, I said no.”

 “
Aren’t we good enough for you, Cooper?” ask Grogan with a mock-frown.

 “
It just...I’m not trained for it. I don’t have any experience, and almost all the enlisted are one sort of technician or another. All I have to do to break something is look at it the wrong way.”

 “
Quinn’d take you on,” Cantrell said. “He loves fixing stuff.”

 “
No, I’m out, I think, after this mission,” Cooper said. “Don’t know what I’ll do. I guess I’ll think of something.”

 “
I’d think hard about that,” another voice said. Caine drifted into the room, and she continued, “After all, the reason all of us are out here is because of what you came up with. You prepared the mission profile, got all of the ducks in a row. That’s something to be proud of.”

 “
I will be,” he replied, “once we get my friends back and we get them safely back to Alamo.”

 “
Not Mars?” Caine replied.

 “
That’s the Captain’s job. My work is done when we’re back on a friendly deck again.”

 “
Are you here for some pills as well?” Grogan asked with a sigh.

 “
I’m afraid so, and I’m not the last. I think most of the crew are down with it.”

 “
Smart of you to be at the head of the line, anyway.” He grabbed the bottle, then said, “I’d
better go around the key areas and start delivering. Too many people are reluctant to get ‘em when they need ‘em.”

 
“
Does he always grumble like that?,” Cantrell said to his departing back.

 “
He had a rough fortnight,” Caine said. “I think Duquesne pitched this to him as a bit of a holiday. We aren’t likely to give him much business, at least, I hope not.”

 “
Me too,” Cooper said, looking at his hand. The plastoskin looked strange, wrong; Duquesne had cobbled it together out of specifications in the database at Hydra Station, and evidently the Cabal were behind in bionics. Either that, or they didn’t care to hide it.

 “
Got a job for you, by the way.”

 “
A job?”

 “
Captain wants you to give everyone a run down in small-arms training. We’re not expecting to use it, but from the reports, we’ll be in some rough places. Unarmed combat might be a good idea, as well.”

 
“
I’m not sure I…”

 “
If not you, then who’s going to do it?”

 “
I’m with Cooper,” Cantrell said. “I had enough training in Basic to last a lifetime.”

 “
I doubt you trained with someone who came top of his class for marksmanship.”

 “
Second,” he replied.

 “
The winner didn’t graduate, though.”

 “
Winning by default isn’t winning.” He glanced across at Cantrell, “What the hell, it should relieve the tension a bit. This include officers?”

 “
It certainly does. I’m looking forward to getting some zero-g practice again. It’s been much too long.”

 Kicking away towards the corridor, he said, “I’d better head down to one of the cargo decks, see about outfitting it as a firing range. I wonder if we have any laser targeters in stock.”

 “
I doubt it. You’ll need to cobble something together.”

 “
I’ll give you a hand,” Cantrell said. “Sensors are supposed to be my specialty, after all.”

 With a smile, Caine replied, “I’m sure that Mr. Mulenga will be very pleased to hear that.”

Chapter 11

 Marshall lay in the command couch, tugging at his borrowed flight jacket. Despite five days’ work, it still didn’t fit quite right, and at this rate he somehow doubted it ever would. Looking around the bridge, he barely managed to suppress a laugh at the motley appearance of his crew; they looked like a collection of actors waiting to perform ‘Pirates of Cydonia’ rather than spacehands. Orlova, lingering near the rear, was the only one who had managed to pull it off, drawing on her own experience; he was rather afraid to ask what he looked like.

 “
Coming up on emergence in ten seconds, Skipper,” Nelyubov said at the helm. “That should put us just fifteen minutes from Sinbad Outpost; the egress point is really well positioned in this system.”

 “
I’m surprised it isn’t better used.”

 “
Nothing much here,” Orlova said. “Just some pretty decent Euxenite deposits, but if it wasn’t easy to get to, no-one would be here. And ice, of course, so we can top up.”

 “
Emergence,” Nelyubov said, and everyone hung on to their couches – and their stomachs. Despite round-the-clock work on the dimensional compensators, it was still like a visit to the galaxy’s most sadistic dentist, and Marshall shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision as they slid back into reality.

 Tapping a button, he said, “Wilson, if you don’t fix that
you
’re walking home!”

 “
I’ll see what I can do, skipper,” his voice replied, tinny over the antiquated microphone. “No guarantees, though, not with garbage this out of date.”

 Snapping the channel closed, he turned to Spinelli, “Get me the dockmaster.”

 “
Trying, s...skipper. All I’m getting is some loud music.”

 “
Music?”

 “
Wait, oh, hell. I must have broken into a commercial frequency.” He glanced up at his board, “Lots of small ships in the vicinity. Dozens, mostly singleships, all civilian. Couple of tankers and support craft. I’d say we’re the only hendecaspace-capable ship in the system.”

 “
That’s good news, anyway.”

 “
Got him!” he said. “Dockmaster coming on now.”

 “
Who is he?” Marshall said, quietly, turning to Orlova, who was glancing at a datapad.

 “
Zaid Karim,” she whispered.

 “
Basil, what are you doing back here already?” a voice boomed from the speaker. “I thought you were going to lay over at Hydra and fix that ship of yours.”

 Taking a deep breath, Marshall replied, “This isn’t Basil, I’m afraid. My name is Daniel Trent, and as of a week ago, I’m the owner-operator of this ship.” Most of the crew were going under their own names, the Cabal unlikely to pick up on them, but Marshall’s profile was high enough that Bailey had insisted on providing him with a pseudonym.

 The voice was growing soft, suspicious, “Basil sold up? Why?”

 “
All I know is that he was selling a ship, and I had the money to buy it.”

 “
And how come I’ve never heard of you before?”

 Orlova looked at him, and Marshall nodded, “Because I’m new to the area. We got ran out of Sol System when the Triplanetary Confederation broke up Cornucopia, and my crew and I managed to make some money selling our ship to the Fleet.”

 “
You have proof of this, naturally.”

 “
Boss,” Nelyubov said, “three missile tubes just opened.”

 “
They’re working on a firing solution,” Spinelli said.

 “
Don’t do anything yet,” he said
quietly
, then pulled the microphone back to his mouth, “I can transmit all the documentation to you right now.”

 “
I think you should do just that,” the voice replied.

 Tapping a series of controls on his console, Marshall sent the entire package across to the station. Bailey’s security team had worked for days to get it perfect, taking advice from the Hydra Station security contingent, but if there was one mistake, this party would end right there and now. He glanced up at the standby course plotted into the helm, taking them on a merry chase deep into the system to a distant hendecaspace point.

 Looking at the tactical plot, they would almost certainly get away from the station without any trouble; three missiles would not be a real deterrent, and they could easily swing around and away, but the mission would be over even before it had begun, and it would be a depressing two weeks as they slowly cruised through the system. This was part of the point, though. If their story wasn’t going to hold up, then it would be a lot better to find that out now, rather than waiting until they reached the heart of Cabal territory.

 This was taking too long. The seconds
crept
around, and Ouroboros slowly drifted in towards the outpost, still on an interception course for docking. It looked remarkably like Spitfire Station, actually – a cluster of modules strapped to a central core, though this one had been set spinning; the Cabal liked their artificial gravity. That, or the tours of duty on this station were longer than the six months recommended for zero-gravity exposure.

 The microphone crackled again, “Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Trent. You can dock at Bay 2; I’ll have refueling facilities standing by. What cargo are you carrying?”

 “
Exotic foodstuffs from Hydra Station.”

 In the background, a cheer seemed to sound, and the voice replied, “My crew are eagerly anticipating your arrival; I think I can provide you with a good price for your wares. Come up to my office when you have docked. Is there anything else you need?”

 “
A dimensional compensator?”

 A low, lumbering laugh echoed from the loudspeaker, and he replied, “I fear such items are not permitted in our stores. You’ll have to make do with what you have for a little longer. Sinbad out.”

 “
It could be a trick,” Nelyubov said. “A lure to draw us into the station.”

 “
Well executed if it was,” Orlova replied. “I’d still recommend caution.”

 “
That’s a good policy for any situation,” Marshall said as he tapped another button, “Deadeye, Cooper, report to the main airlock on the double. Wear sidearms, and make them obvious.” He gently rose to his feet, uncertain in the variable acceleration. “Take her in, Maggie. I’m going to get dressed. And watch for any trouble.”

 
“
Want me to go?” Orlova replied as she swung into the command couch.

 “
I’ve already given my RSVP. Besides, it would be expected for the Captain to handle the trading negotiations. I’ll be careful.”

 She turned to him, then said, “Keep a channel open on your communicator. If you run into trouble I’ll bring a team in to come get you, and I guarantee that station will never be the same again.”

 “
Maggie…”

 “
This is what happens when you put her in command,” Nelyubov said. “Goes to her head.”