The Privateer 2: AN HONEST LIVING Read online

  "He could not forget, though, and eventually he summoned the courage to return. He pedaled the device, and he learned the story of Jumbo and of Valhalla.

  "The city's librarian, shocked and angered by the destruction of the much larger library in the capital, gathered some volunteers to help her remove as many of the library's volumes as possible, and hide them. As a precaution, they placed a chip into the reader telling the story verbally, and placed a basic child's reading text next to the machine. Then they locked the door, hoping to return when the situation calmed. They never did, of course.

  "Now, 75 years later, Raf is a hero, and my great-grandfather," Hiraf said, straightening with pride. "I must be the 'King's Wizard' and wear these absurd robes because the people are still uneducated and superstitious; but I prefer to think of myself as a student and a teacher. My family has served the king's for over 70 years, and our history is closely tied to that of the royal family. For four generations, our families have guided scientific development on Jumbo.

  "It is slow," Hiraf continued proudly, "because we must deal with many fears and superstitions. But our developments slowly trickle out, and now the entire continent is at varying stages of development, and ours is the strongest kingdom on the planet. A steam railway joins all of King Rajo's villages and towns, and makes it possible to visit all of them in only three days."

  He waved a hand vaguely. "The vehicle outside is the prototype of a steam truck, using wood for fuel. I have also been working on an airship," he continued. "The design is finalized, and closely follows the old books. But I have been unable to produce hydrogen or helium."

  Hiraf shrugged. "I know these gases exist, of course, and hydrogen seems simple to electrolyze. But I have been unable to figure out how to produce them in large quantities. The problem seems to be a power source called 'electricity'. I know of this power. It powers the library, but is too weak for the wholesale production of hydrogen by electrolysis."

  It had taken Hiraf over an hour to tell the story of Jumbo. The silly pointed hat sat discarded on the floor, and Hiraf relaxed in the comfortable couch. Mindful of their guest's level of sophistication, Tess prepared tea and cakes, but Dee served them. Despite his protestation of learning, they did not believe him ready to confront Tess's 'bots, or Tess herself, for that matter.

  Hiraf tasted the tea. He seemed unimpressed. Still, he sipped it politely as he said, "So now that I have bored you with my long retelling of our story, you know about Jumbo. It is your turn. What do you want here, star man?" The tone and expression were cheerful, but the eyes were shrewd.

  Cale smiled and shrugged. "Jumbo is not the only unhappy planet since the Fall of the Empire," he began. "The last 400 years have been increasingly chaotic throughout man-settled space. Hundreds of planets have lost the capability of space travel. Others have suffered economic upheavals, or wars, or other catastrophes.

  "We are scouts. We seek out planets that have been out of touch with the rest of man-settled space for centuries. We have clients who want to escape catastrophes on their home planets, who desire to settle on planets that have declined, like Jumbo. They wish to establish homes there, and to help those planets redevelop so that someday they may rejoin Galactic culture.

  "In this case, our clients are farmers, who love the soil, and its products. They are unhappy with the regimented, industrial culture of their home planet, and wish to establish a community on a planet that is pastoral and conducive to their way of life. We think Jumbo is that planet." He smiled. "So, you see, they want to do exactly what you are doing. We have come to Valhalla to establish communication, and in hopes that our people will be able to join with yours in this noble adventure."

  Hiraf's smile had faded as Cale spoke, and his expression was now serious. "I see," he said, "And I assume your people will bring with them much of the advanced technologies of their world?"

  Cale nodded, smilingly. "Of course. And they will be happy to share those technologies with their neighbors."

  "And how many of these . . . immigrants can we expect?"

  Cale grinned. "Over a thousand. But they'll all settle in one community; build their own town." He shrugged. "Jumbo has millions of hectares of untilled land, so you won't be crowded. They'll be able to teach you about electricity, and help all of Jumbo regain much of the civilization it lost."

  Hiraf set his cup carefully on the table, and retrieved his hat from the deck. He rose, quickly followed by Cale and Dee. "You understand my position, of course. I am here as King Rajo's representative. I am to report to him what I have learned." He started for the lock. Tess opened it, and he began to enter, and then stopped.

  "Sire Rankin, Lady Rankin," he said, turning. "I should not do this. It is not part of my instructions. But you have greeted me politely and treated me with courtesy and respect, despite your great power. So, I tell you this. I will report to my king that you are the most dangerous enemy we have ever encountered. You are enemies of my family and of my king. If you import a thousand 'wizards', what will become of the people of Jumbo? I will tell you. We will become slaves or worse. I must recommend to my king that he use every method in his power to destroy you before you can bring this curse to our land.

  "So, flee, star man. Fly high and far. Do it before my king can return with his army. And never approach our domain again!" He turned without another word and left the ship.

  Cale was stunned. He had not seen that reaction coming. Judging by her expression, neither had Dee. "What happened?" he asked of no one in particular.

  Dee's shocked expression faded to a rueful smile. "I'd say your sales pitch fell flat," she said.

  "But . . ." he began, but Tess interrupted. "Cale, he advised us to flee, and I concur. He has told us what he will report, and that we will have until he reaches the palace. I suggest we prepare to lift."

  Cale snorted. "It will take them half an hour to even get that . . . sillymobile moving," he said. "We have plenty of time."

  "I disagree," Tess responded. "All that is necessary is for Hiraf to order those soldiers to move a bit closer, and we will be effectively pinned to this spot. I cannot lift if a human may be injured, and I seriously doubt you would do so manually. And Cheetah is not a lifeboat. You cannot simply singe them. Given enough time, even their primitive artillery will eventually penetrate my hull."

  Cale looked startled. "Artillery?"

  "Yes," Tess replied. "Apparently among his family's 'discoveries' has been a simple, low-order explosive called 'gunpowder' or 'black powder'."

  Cale's expression turned pensive. "You're right, Tess. I couldn't cook those soldiers, even though they want to kill me. By all means, let's get out of here. Jump us to orbit; we need time to think about this.

  "Yes, sir." The rumble of the lift engines spinning up began even before she finished speaking.

  "Okay," Cale said when they were once again orbiting alongside the lifeboat. "Somehow I managed to blow that. But I'm still not quite sure how."

  "Well," Dee said wryly, "Aside from telling him that you were going to put him and his king out of the business their families have been running for four generations, I can't think of a thing."

  "And," Tess added, "Perhaps telling a man whose family's welfare is based upon the high level of their learning that you wanted to bring in more than a thousand people more learned than himself may have been a minor factor."

  Cale raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Y'know, it's funny, but I don't remember either of you jumping in to save the day."

  Dee flashed a guilty grin. "Hindsight is 20/20," she said. "It never even occurred to me until after he left."

  "Nor me," Tess added. "But I should have seen it. I have been studying humans for over 400 years. You tried to appeal to his apparent mission to help his people back up the ladder of civilization, completely forgetting about his personal and selfish interest."

  Cale shook his head. "Water under the bridge. The thing is, what do we do now? We can't land those colonists anyw
here within range of King Rajo's power, and he's the strongest king on the planet."

  "I don't think approaching the nomads is an option, at least not until we know more about them," said Tess.

  Dee looked troubled. "Well, I'm not interested in going back and telling our clients their only option is to stay away from all other humans,"

  Cale shook his head, "Neither am I. If I were a prospective colonist, that would be a deal-breaker for me. No, we can't just give up."

  A gloomy silence fell.

  "The problem is," Cale began after a few minutes' thought, "We just don't know enough. We thought the advanced state of Valhalla's development would make things easy for us. Well, there is no 'easy', and there are no shortcuts.

  "Tess, did you get any footage of the people at Valhalla? I don't mean the soldiers; I mean people standing around, or just moving around on their usual business."

  "As a matter of fact, I have quite bit of footage. Once Hiraf entered Cheetah, people gathered around. At a respectful distance, of course. They scattered as soon as he exited."

  "Do you think your 'bots could sew up some clothing like theirs for us? They don't have to be perfect, just good enough to pass casual inspection until we can buy or steal some real ones."

  Dee rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. We talked about this. You want to try to actually move among these people. It won't work, Cale. Look at the trouble you had with Hiraf – and he was educated in the 'old' way of talking."

  "I can provide clothing that resembles those of the people," Tess replied, "but I cannot synthesize the rough fabrics themselves. Close examination will reveal the differences. And I can only produce the outer garments. We do not know what undergarments, if any, are worn."

  Cale shrugged. "If they strip us to our underwear we're already in trouble. Judging by Hiraf's robe, I suspect most of the material is homespun. Just make us outer garments that look as crude as possible. Dee's right about the speech, though. How is that translator program coming?"

  "It's nearing completion," Tess replied. "It will help you understand their speech, but it will not help you speak. Translators are designed to be worn by both parties, so that each can speak his own language and be understood by the other."

  "See?" Dee insisted. "You'll get yourself burned as a witch, or something, speaking Standard. Forget it!"

  Cale sighed. "I can't, Dee. We can't go back without even trying to get information on the farmers and even the nomads. We have to know what the colonists will be facing."

  Dee's face clouded, and it seemed she was about to erupt, but suddenly she sagged in her couch and sighed deeply. "You're right. I hate it, but you're right. We have to try. But I go with you, and we both go armed. Agreed?"

  Cale brightened. "Agreed. But that still leaves the language problem. Tess, is there any chance you could use your translator program to program a hypnogogue?"

  Dee groaned. "Oh, God, I hate those things. Hypnotic learning always gives me a headache."

  "It seems possible, Cale," Tess replied, "but it will take several hours to convert the program and ready the hypnogogue. And I cannot guarantee complete reliability. I suspect you will have an odd accent."

  Cale shrugged. "We'll be impersonating itinerant traders, so maybe that won't be too much of a problem."

  "We hope." Dee added.

  Cale grinned. "Fervently!"

  "I will have packs made for you," Tess said. "What about trade goods?"

  Cale shrugged. "We can't take much from off-planet," he replied. "But I would like to have a couple of good quality ceramic knives, and maybe a few trinkets that can prove we're from off-planet if necessary. We might grab a few cook pots and things from the space station. But I think we'll have to get most of the stuff on-planet."

  "We really don't have time to raid a city," Dee protested. "Besides we might get caught!"

  Cale shook his head. "I had something else in mind. Tess, in your maps, do you show any ruins that are so far from the occupied areas that they are unlikely to have been looted?"

  "There are a number of them," Tess replied. "Comparing the old maps with our own, I have power broadcast stations, scientific stations on both continents, and even hunting camps."

  "Forget the hunting camps," Cale said. "The buildings are usually made of native woods, for 'atmosphere' and wouldn't last 500 years. A power station sounds good, if it hasn't been looted. Lots of high-grade, heavy metals, suitably weathered. But that means people would go to a lot of trouble to loot them. A scientific station might be our best bet."

  "I'd bet nobody looted a station on South continent," Dee said, "And we're unlikely to be interrupted by unfriendly strangers there."

  Cale grinned. "True. Unfriendly animals, however . . . "

  That night they both slept under the hypnogogue, and both awoke with roaring headaches. They practiced conversing in 'modern Jumbo' until Tess pronounced herself satisfied.

  "Now, all we have to do," Cale said, "is figure out how to deliver us inconspicuously to the edge of civilization in a spaceship or a lifeboat that roars like a volcano, and produces a fire trail that can be seen for miles."

  Tess produced a sound suspiciously like a snicker. "That is true. Cheetah is many things, but subtle is not one of them, especially in atmosphere. And primitive people are typically very careful observers of the world around them. I doubt there is a human on Jumbo who does not know there is a spaceship on Jumbo, or at least that there are mysterious lights appearing in the sky, and strange, loud noises."

  "I thought we were going to use the lifeboat," Dee said.

  Cale shook his head. "I thought so too, at first. But while the lifeboat is smaller than Cheetah, and not as loud, she still produces a fire trail and roar. That's probably how the nomads were able to track us. If a fire trail ends anywhere near a town, the people will be looking for strange happenings associated with it."

  "The flitter in my cargo hold is nearly silent, and does not produce a fireball," Tess said. "But we are a long way from the inhabited area. It would take weeks to get there in a flitter; and of course, it would run out of fuel before making it across the sea.

  "My suggestion," she continued, "would be to gather your trade goods here, and perhaps make a trader's cart that can be disassembled and stowed in the flitter. Then, you can occupy the flitter while I fly us across the sea and to an isolated area. If I am not seen to ground, my flight will become just another isolated incident; but if I open my cargo hatch, we may be able to jettison the flitter, and you can fly it to walking distance of a town, assemble and load your cart, and become traders."

  "It sounds dangerous to me," Dee said.

  Cale was frowning. "Yeah, me, too. Tess, you may be a hot pilot, but I'm just average. I don't think I'd like to fly a flitter out a hatch and into an airstream of hundreds of miles per hour!"

  "The timing will be tricky," Tess admitted. "But I estimate the chances of success at over 70%. I will approach land in a horizontal attitude, similar to that of an aircraft. When we reach the proper point, I will slow to minimum, and use my attitude jets to reverse my attitude and kill nearly all my forward velocity, and then adjust to a vertical orientation, with my cargo door open, facing behind. For just a moment, I will be hovering on thrust alone. At that moment, I will eject you on an opposite trajectory into nearly stationary air. Once you are clear, I will apply thrust and boost for a low geocentric orbit," she said. "This will require additional fuel usage, but I have adequate reserves. I will monitor you with my cameras and maintain contact via ultraradio. Should an emergency develop, an approaching fireball should discourage it."

  "Can you really do that, Tess?" asked Dee. "I mean, don't you have to orbit to slow down and stuff?"

  "This is not the first century A.E., Dee," Tess replied primly. "First, the velocity required to maintain position will not be extreme. Second, the ablative qualities of my hull are state-of-the-art."

  Cale snickered. "State of the art four hundred years ago."

  "True,
" Tess replied in a more normal tone. "But the state of the art has not progressed much."

  Cale grinned. "Okay. If you can do all that, you really are a hot pilot! The hottest!" He turned to Dee. "This will be more exciting than any carnival ride ever built!"

  Dee just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Men!

  But no one could come up with a better option, so the next morning Cheetah descended to the empty wildlife station.

  The station was grim. It had been a wildlife research station, protected by a force field powered by the broadcast power grid. When the grid went down, so did the station's protection. The station had no intercontinental transport of its own, and in the chaos, no one had come to retrieve the residents. Even after 500 years, the signs of a desperate struggle for survival were everywhere. Weapons lockers gaped emptily. Doorways had been barricaded and brown stains, claw marks on walls and furniture, and old bone fragments testified to the station's last days.

  But the Empire built to last. The plascrete buildings were beginning to crumble slightly, but only beginning; they still protected their contents. Piles of rusty metal marked the final resting places of iron and steel weapons and implements, and most of the plas artifacts had turned to dust. But there were enough stainless and alloy implements, and even glass and ceramics, to make any local a rich man.

  While the humans collected and sorted their finds, Tess's 'bots were busy. A stand of trees had grown up around the station, and the 'bots were cutting them down and turning them into a reasonable facsimile of a trader's two-wheeled cart Tess had observed at Valhalla.

  One huge tree, probably already large when the station had been active 500 years ago, was felled and sliced by laser to make solid-wood wheels a hundred and fifty cems in diameter. Other 'bots cut the huge trunk into usable pieces by laser, and treated the green wood to stabilize it. Then still others came behind with knives and axes found at the station, hacking and scarring the now-aged-looking wood to make it look hand-hewn.