Chapter Nine
Urban landscape as far as the eye could see. Giant towers of plascrete and glass, carbonsteel and titanemuim. Marvelous wonders that made the mountains look small and with millions upon millions of people living in, on and under them. With the setting sun, the shadows of some of the taller buildings stretched all the way to the horizon.
This was a developed world. This was what civilization was meant to be. All the advantages of a strong developed scientific base without any of the pollution or cancer that getting to that stage would normally cause. This was Belousov.
High over the city, a skycab carried two passengers. They had traveled far and long to reach this planet and once here they had spent even longer getting to this particular part of the city. The skycab descended amongst the buildings, falling into shadow as it went lower and lower. After a few minutes, it landed gently on a rooftop. The side opened, and the passengers stepped out onto the roof.
“Finally, we are so close,” said Georgi. “After all this time and all this money that we’ve spent on snoops and informants, we’re so close I can almost touch it.”
“Don’t count your missiles until they hit,” said Selinin. He was almost naturally always a dour fellow, but travel seemed to make him even less agreeable.
“Just think,” said Georgi excitedly. “Soon, we’ll be fabulously rich beyond our wildest dreams.”
“I’ve had some pretty wild dreams. And after all we’ve been through and all the money that I’ve spent on this little quest of yours, I’ll be happy to just break even.”
“Fine by me. I’ll pay you back for everything that you’ve spent and I’ll use the change to buy myself a planet or three.”
“You don’t think small, do you?” said Selinin as they started to walk down the stairs from the roof down to the sky lobby.
“Like I said, fabulously rich.”
“I’ve heard all this before. Personally, I’m starting to think that agreeing to finance your project was a bad idea. We’ve collected lots of hearsay, lots of ideas but no concrete leads.”
“We’re here on Belousov, aren’t we? We have the information that Bamey gave us, which was the big break we needed. And it took us all of three days to find this building. I’m telling you, the Narjus is here, in this building.”
The two entered an elevator.
“Well, since we’re so close, maybe now you can let me in on just what this Narjus thing really is.”
“The Narjus is what we’re seeking,” said Georgi with a wry smile.
The elevator doors closed and Selinin turned to face Georgi, a serious expression on his face. “When this elevator stops, I’m either going to get out with you or I’m going to go back to the roof and go home. I’ve expended a great deal of funds helping you chase your white whale, but I’m seriously considering cutting my losses and calling it a day. Now, what am I going to do?”
“What’s a white whale?”
“Don’t avoid the issue.”
Georgi looked at Selinin and weighed his options. Finding another backer when he was this close would be hard, but not impossible. But Selinin had shown faith and had helped him out enormously. It would be the height of folly to burn this bridge now.
“Okay, I’ll level with you. I have no idea.”
“What?”
“I’ve been following this for half my life. I was dumping some old data cores from an old station that was being refurbished and I happened across this little excerpt. I followed the information and ended up finding out that the Narjus was a clue or a key to a fabulous treasure. I haven’t found out what it is, but I do know that several planets have gone to war in order to try and get this thing. It’s been in and out of the spotlight for who knows how long and has changed hands over a dozen times, usually at the point of a knife. The last bit of data that I had led me to the Judges’ archives but I couldn’t get into that. That’s where Mr Bamey came into the picture.”
“And that, along with the information that we got from Natalene led us here, to this building?”
“Yes. And planetary governments don’t unleash the army for anything less than a few billion. So if several planets were willing to slam each other around in order to get this thing, it’s got to be worth a fortune.”
“And just what is this building?” asked Selinin as the elevator came to a stop.
“This is the hall of records,” said Georgi as he stepped out of the elevator. “You’ve come this far. Will you come a few steps further?”
Selinin hesitated a moment. He already had all the money he would ever need, so this wasn’t something that he was desperately in need of. But for all his wealth, his life was boring. He hadn’t even left his spacious mansion in over a decade before Georgi came along and pleaded for his patronage. And Georgi provided something his money couldn’t – a reason to go on living. With an overly elaborate sigh, Selinin stepped out of the elevator.
“Okay then, let’s go.”
As they walked into the reception for the Belousov Hall of Records, Georgi asked, “Seriously, what’s a white whale?”
“Anything to declare?” asked a bored looking official.
“Yeah, don’t go to Kuparinen, it’s a hole,” said Captain West. Unamused, the official gave Captain West a level gaze that normally made people break into a nervous sweat. West had been intimidating people since before the official was born and didn’t flinch.
“Okay, so you have no cargo, no paying passengers and no data chips to transfer. You also have what looks like a private army, a mess of apparently legal weapons and enough guns mounted on your hull to keep the King of Haapasalo from even thinking of sending a tax application in your general direction.”
“As I said, the weapons have been verified and we have all our documentation in order.”
“So, do you have anything to declare?” Someone could be transporting big vats of Gray Goo and as long as it was declared and they had the right forms it was all perfectly legal. By asking (repeatedly) if they had anything to declare, the official was giving Captain West the opportunity to legalize any suspicious cargo that might be borderline legal. Or to be more specific, the official was fishing for a bribe in order to look the other way.
“No. Nothing to declare.”
Sighing, the official continued. “Very well, nothing to declare. Your entire crew will need to remain here in the quarantine zone whilst customs goes over your ship and searches it for any contraband, proscribed flora and fauna or any other items listed on the register of barred items. Before the team goes aboard, I give you a final chance to declare anything that the teams might uncover that you may have neglected to mention.”
West was practically fuming. The official was basically doing everything except placing out a sign saying ‘bribe me’. Normally (as in: when he was carrying something illegal) he would have just paid him off and been done with it. But for once, everything on the ship was above board and legal. Plus, with the expense of mounting the rescue mission that wasn’t a rescue mission, he barely had enough money to make payroll, let alone be bribing low-level idiots here at Balga customs.
“Of course we have no problem with the fine men and women of your customs inspection teams going aboard my ship. But one of my men will go with your inspectors to ensure that they don’t try and plant anything on us, nor that they are tempted to remove any of our property.”
“You can’t obstruct us from performing our duties!”
“Who said anything about obstructing? We’ll be escorting. We’ll be more than happy to take any of your staff to any part of the ship, inside or out, that they wish to see. As I said, we have nothing to hide. But they will not be allowed to roam on my ship unescorted. Plus all my staff are qualified and licensed bodyguards and are all carrying state of the art weaponry.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not. I’m merely pointing out the obvious. You’re annoying and antagonizing a group of bored, armed fighters who are legally allowed to acquire and eliminate targets should they be deemed to be disruptive of the common good.”
The official had to concede the point. If they were carrying anything that they weren’t meant to, then the captain was either pulling a very dangerous bluff or he was the dumbest captain traveling the galaxy. And none of these guys looked like they’d follow a dumb captain.
In the end, he had only two options. To send them away without letting them enter Balga, or let them in. Finally he decided to just send one inspector aboard, the youngest and the most gun-crazy. The lad ended up spending more time asking the Boarders about their equipment than inspecting the ship for contraband.
After about three hours, the Kilkka and her crew were given clearance and allowed to enter Balga proper.
“Finally!” said Ken. “I thought that was going to drag on for ever!”
“Well, we may be in, but we’re still up the creek. Oxley, you see to getting our ship refueled and restocked. Ken, you see what you can dig up by way of contracts. Preferably something soft that pays a lot.”
Ken had a good laugh at that one. “Sure Capt’n, that’ll be easy to find.”
“Saer and Oligana, make sure you have all the ammo you need and that your gear is up to spec. If we look good, we should be able to get a good contract. If not, we may end up cutting you guys loose, so you may as well get some decent gear while I’m still picking up the tab.”
“Yessir. If we do part ways, it’s been good working with you. But I’m hoping that we can work together a bit longer. You’re a good captain,” said Saer.
“Thanks, that means a lot to me,” said West with a smile. He shook hands with both Boarders who then walked off looking for the nearest military surplus store.
“So where does that leave us?” asked Cyraianne. She and her sister, Kasia were getting ready to say goodbye as Kasia would leave the ship but Cyrianne would remain.
“It all depends on what Ken can find. We only need one halfway decent job in order to get us back on top. At the moment, we have enough cash left to pay everyone and remain docked for another four days. After that, it’s either permanent orbit or sell the Kilkka.”
“Ouch,” said Kasia. “I know how much the ship means to you. Thanks for coming for me, even if it looks like you didn’t need to.” She gave West a quick kiss.
“I want to thank you as well,” said Cyrianne. “But I won’t be kissing you since you’re still my Captain.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked Kasia.
“I’m going back to my old job at the bar. Technically I never left, but we’ll see what Antonio says. Good luck Captain,” said Kasia, and with that she walked away.
Cyrianne and West watched her go. A few moments later, Yoshi and Franco came out as well.
“Sorry Captain, but we’ll be leaving you at this port,” said Franco.
“No problems guys. Did you collect your pay?”
“Yes,” said Yoshi. “Peter settled with us a few minutes ago.”
“Will you be signing up with another ship?”
“No,” said Franco. “I need to get back to my studies. It was fun riding with you guys, but I can’t do this for the rest of my life.”
“And my dad lives here. I was mainly just looking for a ride home,” said Yoshi.
“Okay guys, look after yourselves,” said West as he shook hands with both of them. “If you need references, just list my name, in case I’m in the area.”
“Thanks Captain,” they said, and walked off the ship.
“And now we’ll need to hire some new kitchen hands,” said Cyrianne.
“Only if Ken gets us a contract,” replied West.
The pain was incredible, yet exquisite.
Johnny was on his back, breathing deeply. He was back in the hotel room with the rest of the band in post-show languor. He could barely hear over the ringing in his ears, his hands hurt from playing like he’d never played before and his left ankle hurt from a miss-timed jump that had landed badly. At the time he’d barely felt it, but he was feeling it now.
Most everyone was just lying where they had landed. They had done three encores, which had been unheard of on this tour. Rabid had managed to come down before the end of the show and had been able to take over again for the last few songs, much to the delight of the audience.
Johnny was a little miffed at that, but it was only in passing. He was majorly euphoric from the experience, and having been able to play on the stage to a packed house had been the greatest experience of his life.
“How are my boys and girls?” asked Ordovus, beaming from ear to ear. The reviews were being sent out and the show was already an unmitigated success by any standard. He was greeted with a faint chorus of appreciative cries from the exhausted band members. “You’ll have about half an hour to lie still and recuperate, then we’ll move you onto our transport where you’ll be able to get some proper sleep.”
“Oh no, the ship,” said Johnny as he sat up. He checked his comm – no new messages, no missed calls. “Oh good, they aren’t ready yet. It’s been an absolute blast, but I have to go.”
“Thanks for stepping up,” said Rabid. “Ricky was right, you are a great screamer player.”
“Thank you,” replied Johnny, honored at being praised by the man he’d been replacing himself. “But there’s no way I could do this for a living. You sir, are a god.”
“You really rocked man,” said Ricky. “Look after yourself, we might meet up again somewhere.”
“You guys are awesome,” gushed Johnny. “Thank you for asking me, Ordovus.”
“It was Ricky that wanted you,” said Ordovus, maneuvering Johnny towards the door. “Captain West will be starting to think that we kidnapped you if you don’t get going. Please make sure to give him my thanks for letting you stay.”
With that, Johnny walked out the door, still calling praise and thanks as he walked away. Ordovus went back to organizing the pack up. The second stage crew would pick up the stage and most of the scenery in a few days. The first stage crew was already busy setting up the other stage at their next stop. On this end, all he had to do was make sure that all the band members and their various instruments were on the ship before they left. The earlier threat of leaving people behind was an idle one, since all of them were accomplished musicians and would be hard to replace.
Looking around, Ordovus decided that he’d let them rest only fifteen minutes. If they got too relaxed here, he’d have difficulty getting them onto the ship. In the meantime, he went looking for the girls that where here earlier. Maybe they’d want to join the band for the next leg of the tour.
Bamey slowly regained consciousness. He knew that he didn’t want to, but couldn’t remember why. Through a haze of furry thoughts, the pain returned. He almost fell unconscious again, but was brought to full consciousness again by an infusion of fresh drugs.
“Do you remember where you are?” asked the man with the steely gray hair.
“No.”
“Do you remember who you are?”
“Jackson. Jackson Myers.”
“No, that was the alias you used when you arrived. Do you remember your real name?”
Bamey thought for a moment. He was wide awake, but couldn’t think straight. He tried rubbing his head but was annoyed to find that his arms were tied down. “Schultz. Bamey Schultz.”
“Better. Do you remember where you are?”
“My office.”
“That’s where you were. Do you remember where you are now?”
Bamey looked around. It was a dull gray room that he hadn’t seen before. A large mirror dominated one wall and there were four or five other people in the room. He was in an interrogation room of some type. There wasn’t any blood on the floor that he could see, so he was pretty sure that he wasn’t being tortured, at least not physically. Then he saw the judge’s seal on the steely haired man’s chest and some it came back to him.
“Police. Station. Balga. Police station on Balga.”
“Very good. Do you remember who I am?”
Bamey looked at the steely haired man. He was a Judge; of that there was no doubt. He vaguely recalled having been told the Judges’ name at some point, but he couldn’t recall what it was. He shook his head and instantly regretted it.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Killed Albano. You. Killed him.”
“That was an accident. The troops were under orders to take you alive, but someone didn’t think that that included your staff.”
“Dead. He’s dead. So am I.”
“No Mr. Schultz, we are not going to kill you. We want information from you, that’s all.”
“Why are you torturing me?”
“We’re not. You tripped on the way in and hit your head. The medic sedated you and fixed a fracture in your skull. That’s why your head hurts. And you’re on some rather powerful painkillers, that’s why you can’t think straight.”
Bamey tried to process what he was being told. The Judge could be telling the truth, or he could be telling a barefaced lie. And if he’d tripped, what had he tripped on? They could easily have beaten him up and then had the medic fix him up so they could beat him again.
“Why are my arms tied?”
“Look at your arms.”
Bamey looked down. His arms were not tied down; he just had a lot of difficulty moving them. He was looking right at his hand and telling it to move, but his fingers barely wiggled.
“What do you want to know?”
“Better. Do you remember who I am?”
“Not important. What do you want to know?”
“I want to know if you remember who I am.”
Bamey’s head was starting to clear. He looked at the Judge again. The man wasn’t familiar on any level and he didn’t recall having met him anytime before. There was a name though, but the name didn’t match. The name belonged to someone else and he was getting them confused. Now he was pretty sure that he remembered the Judges name, but it didn’t seem right and he didn’t know why.
“I don’t know. What is your name?”
“You know my name.”
“Judge … Leshem,” said Bamey, saying the name of the only Judges’ name that he could recall. Even as he said it, it felt right but wrong at the same time.
“That’s right. I’m Judge Lesham. Why were you investigating my grandfather?”
“Your what?”
“My grandfather, who was also named Leshem and was also a Judge, why were you investigating him?”
It all came back to Bamey now. Judge Leshem, or more accurately, Judge Jordi Leshem had been the one that had tracked and probably captured Asoye. This Judge Leshem must have been alerted when he had downloaded the data on his grandfather.
“I wasn’t. I was tracking the Narjus.”
“The what?”
“The Narjus. The last case that Judge Leshem was working on when he disappeared was a missing artifact called the Narjus. Allegedly, a thief named Asoye Terekado had stolen it along with some other stuff and your grandfather was either about to arrest her or had already done so when something went wrong.”
Judge Leshem looked at the other men in the room. A few glances passed between them.
“Who else have you told this information?”
“Gerogi Karpov and Selinin Zhurvolova, Zhuronomo … Zhur something.”
“And where are they now?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where?” asked Judge Leshem, leaning in close to Bamey.
“Probably to Belousov.”
“Why would they go to Belousov?”
“That was the last known location of the Narjus, of Asoye and of Leshem. There are no other records anywhere after his final report. Maybe she killed him and went underground. Maybe he married her and they settled down somewhere. Maybe he arrested her and their ship crashed somewhere. Maybe they were both killed in a regular street mugging.”
Leshem straightened up. He looked worried but determined. Bamey could almost see the gears working away in his head. He briefly wondered what the Judge was thinking about when Judge Leshem nodded to the man standing behind Bamey.
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