Misjump Read online

  Ivo nodded. “We haven’t got too much of those things either but we can probably help out. I don’t know how long we have here though.” He looked over to Gregor.

  “We need to do some hull repairs and hey, if no-one is shooting at us, seems like good place to be for a bit, no?” said Gregor. “Have some ideas about parts that I need to discuss with Fumi.”

  Zeek looked up. “Where is that cutie anyway?”

  Lori took a deep breath. This was going to take some explaining.

  Chapter 17

  The Sarafina approached the jumble of old habitation units, decommissioned ships, and industrial units that made up Klondike, the primary and only city of this system. Gregor had seen a dozen variants of the ramshackle design. They tended to grow organically where there were asteroid belts to mine. The only gravity was that generated by each unit, and so up and down were a purely local concept outside of the central stalk. The structures were braced together with locally made iron girders, left unpainted in the vacuum. Small and large mining ships ferried materials to processing units from the big catcher. This was a ring some distance from Klondike that slowed incoming masses of mostly metallic asteroids and allowed them to be captured for processing. There was much less activity than might have been expected on a base of this size, but there were no external customers anymore.

  Gregor adjusted the course to bring him alongside the stalk that connected the various levels. He pressed the comms button on the left-hand screen, sending a request for guidance to whatever passed for control here. He would have liked to still have Zeek onboard but he had gone back to his observation point, making sure to take his precious coffee along. The comm crackled to life and a drawling voice came on the channel.

  “Hello Sarafina, welcome to Klondike. We are expecting y'all and would you kindly dock at collar number four, please. Down at the base, three up from bottom. Cleared to dock and all traffic advised.”

  Gregor had listened to some of the other comms and knew that control was not usually so formal. He tapped the mic button and replied, “Roger control, we are clear for collar four, traffic is aware.” As he said this, he pushed at the control yoke and the ship slowly headed towards the base of the shaft. The approach was slower than it needed to be, a common precaution when misunderstandings were possible. Collar four turned out to be a larger docking area, suitable for heavy carriers. There were no other ships as large as a Camel II except for the open-sided cages used for mining, and they were only ships when a tug was attached. As the Sarafina came to a halt, thin curved mechanical arms came out of the dock, gathering the cargo ship into the magnetic clamps like a spider pulling in an unresisting fly. A buzzing noise came from the forward airlock as a gasket was sealed to the hull.

  “The base just pinged the ship’s AI. It looked like a normal handshake, so I didn’t block,” said Fumi, her voice directed to the cabin. Gregor nodded silently, his hands working on the shutdown sequence. His training and experience were telling him that this was a bad idea, but they didn’t have any real options at this point; they had no fuel, no weapons and nowhere to go. There was nothing to gain by leaving the ship active. Fumi spoke again as if she had read his mind. “If you need the ship ready in a hurry, let me know, and I will do the warm-up. I thought that I could go through the flight training again. It isn’t like there is much else to do here.”

  Gregor nodded. “Yes, sorry, my friend. I would normally ask for volunteer, but it looks like you don’t get a choice. Is unfair. Will try to get you new entertainment chips. They are bound to have something here.”

  “Yes,” said Fumi, “if you can but hey, essentials first, got it?”

  “Da, of course. You will yell if you need us,” said Gregor, his tone flat as he made it an order.

  “Yes, bossman,” replied Fumi.

  He locked the console and joined the rest of the crew at the fore airlock. Jax looked especially nervous and Gregor glanced at him to check for a sidearm. He wasn’t carrying, which saved an argument. Even if this did go badly, a pistol wasn’t going to make any difference except to make things worse. Gregor saw that everyone had changed into the grey ship suit that was the uniform of the shipping company; they didn’t usually bother with it unless they were acting on behalf of the company. As he wondered about the decision, the pressure equalisation light came on and the airlock safety interlock disengaged with a heavy thunk. The crew glanced around, waiting for someone to take the lead until Ivo bowed slightly and waved Gregor forward. Reluctantly, Gregor palmed the airlock open. There was a brief gust of wind blowing from the city into the ship, thick with the smell of people, oil, and overheated electronics. Despite the smell, it was better than the reduced atmosphere that the Sarafina had been running with. Gregor led the way into the bay, taking a long step over the gap where the umbilical joined the ship to the station. The lighting was harsh compared to the Sarafina and his eyes took a moment to adjust. The deck plates were scarred and gritty with dents and scratches in the walls. The lone figure standing in the middle seemed stunted by comparison. The hatch closed behind the crew and, as if this were a signal, the figure strode over to them, his build appearing better proportioned as he got closer. He reached out a hand before he was close enough for anyone to grasp it and Gregor reached for it automatically. The handshake was firm and the man was smiling. He also wore a jumpsuit and the name tag read “Nitrauw.”

  Nitrauw was not a large man, especially when standing next to Gregor’s bearlike bulk. He had the small frame common to miners; they were often called rock monkeys or rock hounds. The early mining colonies had been corporate operations and they offered incentives for workers below a certain weight and height. The families of miners had intermarried and their children had gone into the same trade. It was easy to miss his slight stature as he seemed to fill the space around him.

  “Welcome to Klondike. I don’t think that I need to tell you that it has been a while since we have had visitors. I would very much like to hear what news you have, starting with what happened to your hull. Those look like vaporisation trails if I am any judge. Come this way—I have coffee and snacks in my office.” His voice had traces of the same burr that Zeek had spoken with, but his speech was brisker, somehow sharper. He turned and started walking towards the secondary airlock set in the back wall. He glanced back as he reached the heavy metal door. “Is there anything that you need to bring with you?” he asked, seeing that the crew were still by the ship’s ramp. Gregor shrugged and walked over, the others following.

  The inner airlock led to a wide corridor that ended with a large elevator. “This section is mostly freight and plant. We had you dock here because it will make loading and unloading easier. The habitation levels on the stalk are up a few decks, in as much as there is an up. We try to keep the gravity plates the same across the habitation.”

  The elevator door opened and they walked in. It was cavernous with scuffed metal walls and floors. “Quite the setup you have here,” said Ivo. “Was it built on site?”

  Nitrauw smiled tightly. “Yes and no. The stalk is old and was built for the in-system operations at Ironstone. After that played out, it was boosted at sublight and captured here. We built the rest around it. Technically, the stalk is on a lease, but they haven’t been collecting the rent of late.”

  “How long has it been since you had contact with Ironstone?” asked Ivo.

  Nitrauw cocked his head oddly, almost birdlike. “Over a hundred years. How far in the rim did you guys come from?” The elevator pinged and the door opened slowly onto another corridor, much narrower than the doors, the grey metal of the shaft framing it. “My office is this way,” he said, heading down the corridor. The metal of the floor rang through the worn carpet.

  The office was cramped, extra seats crammed into the small space. A pot of coffee and plates of snacks were on the scarred desk. The crew of the Sarafina sat in the undersized chairs in the cramped office and munched awkwardly. Nitrauw poured coffee into tiny cups and passed t
hem around before asking, “So, battle damage? I didn’t think that any human ships could still make it this deep in. Is there finally effective resistance against the greenies?”

  The crew glanced between them, their gazes coming to rest on Gregor. He sighed. “Yes, about that, we have no information. We didn’t jump in from rim. This was all a surprise to us.” Gregor carefully explained the misjump that had brought them here and what they had found at Neuholme and Ironstone. Nitrauw listened carefully, asking for clarification rarely. At last, Gregor finished.

  Nitrauw rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “That is one hell of a tale, but I guess it makes more sense than anything else. I wanted to think that the rim was leading a fight to reclaim the lost systems, but if it is happening, they ain’t reached here yet. Truth to tell, I don’t know if there is anyone left out there. We keep receivers open, but we ain’t heard nothing for more than a lifetime. I hope that y’all will not be offended, but I was hoping for better news.”

  “Looks like that is out of stock everywhere,” commented Jax.

  “Mr Nitrauw, we hear that you don’t have any jump capable ships here. The Sarafina has some hull damage but is fully functional. I wonder if we can explore the possibility of helping each other,” said Meilin.

  Nitrauw straightened in his chair. “Yes, of course. You know that you have something that we want and I will deal straight with ya. We have fuel, and we can patch your ship up if you have goods to trade or if you can help us out. How much help we give ya will depend on how much you give us, but it seems to me that we should stick together. For all we know, Klondike might be the only true humans left. How about we just lay it all out on the table. What do ya all need and what ya got to offer?”

  Gregor looked to Meilin, who normally bargained for cargo and passengers. Her manner made some people a little uncomfortable and this often worked in the Sarafina’s favour. “Of course,” she said, “we need very little in a sense. With fuel, we can be on our way. It would be good to have hull repairs, but we can fly without them. In the larger sense, we need food and other consumables and we need information. We have a hold half full of cargo and possibly the only jump capable ship in human hands. What do you want to offer, Mr Nitrauw?”

  Nitrauw smiled. “Well, that got right to the point, didn’t it? Seems to me that you missed something though. I would have thought that y'all needed somewhere where you wouldn’t have greenies on your ass and Klondike can offer that. We got fuel too, more than you could ever use, and hull plates ain’t no kind of a problem. Whether we can come to a deal or no, you are welcome to information. Seems to me that we are better off working together than working apart. How about you tell me about this cargo you got? I don’t care too much if you got a bill of sale. Ain’t no-one going to come looking for it now.”

  Meilin bobbed her head in an echo of a bow. “We have a fairly complex manifest. Perhaps you could tell us what you are short of and I will tell you how we can help you.”

  Nitrauw bit the edge of his lip in thought. “Yes, we can play it that way. What we need is pretty much what you would expect. This is a closed system, much like a ship. We can manufacture most things, although it was a problem in the early days. We have to make a lot of parts and reverse engineer stuff when it breaks. We could use quite a range of tech stuff even if it weren’t intended for what we need. Plans for stuff would be useful. We farm, of course, hydroponics mostly but some dirt farming. We wouldn’t say no to seeds or new plants if ya got any. I would guess that you don’t have and can’t get bigger animals, but we are doing good for protein. Medicines are an issue. Zeek said that you wanted to talk to our doctors and they can fill you in there.”

  Meilin nodded and smiled apologetically, pulling out her PDA. There was a message on the screen: “We also need computer cores, multiple, fast. Don’t mention me or nanites. Have an idea.” Meilin frowned. She had not been aware that Fumi was monitoring the conversation. The PDAs were supposed to be secure. Meilin turned her attention back to Nitrauw. “Yes, I understand that. May I ask, how many people are here in Klondike? We have limited supplies and I doubt that we can make a big change to your colony by ourselves, but you may be able to reverse engineer some of the things that we have and manufacture them.”

  Nitrauw nodded. “We have seven thousand people, more or less, in the stalk and attached units, a secondary base farside that has about three hundred staff and maybe seventy or eighty on the experimental farms. We are not scooping gas right now, so there are only around ninety or so in ships around the system.”

  “It is impressive that you have managed to maintain that many people for so long and repel invaders. If you pass me your PDA, I will transfer the manifest,” said Meilin. Nitrauw handed his device over, a battered ruggedised unit.

  Before the colony manager could read the manifest, Gregor asked “Seven thousand is not so many to repel a force that has taken whole planets. Is mass driver really so effective?”

  Nitrauw nodded. “It gets the job done, right enough. If we run the coils hot, we can fling a hundred kilos of iron at a significant fraction of c. They ain’t going to dodge that and it’ll punch through hull just fine.”

  “Da,” replied Gregor, “of commercial ship, sure, but military ship is shielded against projectile attack. How come they have not come in battleship if this is last place around here?”

  Nitrauw knitted and unknitted his fingers, apparently unconsciously. “Yup, you are right. They could take us if they wanted ... but there are two things that stop ’em wanting it that bad. The first is that there are not enough of us for it to be worth the losses given the mass driver, but the second is the kicker. Each ship and the stalk are rigged to blow if a greenie gets too close. All they would get from us is dead meat and it just ain’t worth it.” He raised the PDA and said, “If you could just give me a minute here please?” before starting to read. After a while, he began making notations with a stylus, and the silence stretched uncomfortably. Finally, he looked up.

  “I am going to be straight with you. You have things that we need and we are happy to trade. I will make sure that you get a fair deal. However, the most valuable thing that you’ve got ain’t something that you are going to want to trade. You’ve got the only working hyperdrive in the system. Ain’t no use to us if you go off getting yourself captured.”

  Gregor and Jax stiffened, glancing at each other. Nitrauw noticed and made a calming gesture. “Nah, it ain’t going to be like that. You don’t know me and ain’t got much reason to trust me, but we got a basic rule here. Most folks are independent types - a lot of them have their own ships. The rule is that stalk can’t take a man’s ship from him and I ain’t going to make no exception here. Wouldn’t be right and besides, I wouldn’t be the leader here for long if I tried it. I figure that we need to work together and so we need something that works for both of us. I know what you have and maybe have an idea of what you might trade. Also got an idea of what you are going to be hurtin’ for. So, cards on the table. What do you want if you are going to call this home and work with us? I will tell you if it is too much but reckon that you need a deal as much as we do. One ship in a hostile universe? No way to make that sound like a good thing.”

  Gregor visibly relaxed, followed by Jax. However, it was Meilin who spoke first, her smile noticeably brittle. “Thank you, Mr Nitrauw. I believe that I will need to discuss this with the rest of the crew. I am hopeful that we can come to some arrangement.”

  Nitrauw nodded. “Yeah, me too. You can go back to your ship if you want or there are quarters here that you can use. They ain’t all that fancy, but they are clean and ready. Welcome in the mess hall, but you are going to get a passel of questions if you go in there. Probably best if I assign you a steward or two.”

  “Would those be armed stewards, then?” asked Jax.

  Nitrauw shook his head. “Don’t reckon you will need that. The quarters are in the management area and most station personnel ain’t got access to this part of stalk
. Stewards ain’t armed either, only peacekeepers. I can assign you all one of them, but ain’t no-one going to bother you.” Nitrauw ignored the glare that Meilin was giving to Jax and showed no offence. He pressed a button on his desk and spoke into a microphone. “Johan, double up to my office please.” He turned back to the crew. “You need me, you call me and I will make time for you, soon as I can, but I have a mess of work waiting for me, a lot of it caused by you. I’m going to get back to you on that manifest, but that won’t be for a while. Take your time getting back to me too. Nothing is going to be changing until we both agree.” There was an awkward silence until Johan came in and led the crew out.

  The quarters that the crew were taken to were worn but better quality than the crew had expected. They were also hopelessly out of fashion and had been for well over a century. Johan had warned them that the comms in the suite were down and had been for longer than he knew. They certainly looked like they hadn’t been used in many decades. He had left them with a handheld comms unit that was hooked up to the Klondike’s network although he referred to it just as “stalk.” The suite had a communal area and three bunk rooms with multiple cots. After Johan left, they sat around the brushed steel table on low benches that followed the suite’s aesthetic of industrial chic. The style came back around every now and then with small changes.

  Jax broke the silence. “So, who reckons that this place is wired for sound and vision?”

  His PDA answered, the voice clearly Fumi’s. “Just you. I have checked, and there is no network traffic in or out of there. The comm that the old guy—”