��Sea Stories & Curiosa��

Windward Passage
Arth Orbit
Starport Central

�What do you mean she�s on Arth? She just entered the system,� said the watch officer. His name was Howard, and he�d been working traffic control so long that he remembered when it was jets and tilt-rotors, not star ships. He reached over the operator�s shoulder and hit a series of keys. The screen flashed. The information didn�t change.

�I don�t know what to make of it,� said Zap, a Veloxi traffic controller. �I have no record of her leaving the system. According to the real time roster, she�s parked in a private lot just outside Restoration City.�

Howard picked up a red telephone. �This is Control,� he said. �Yeah, run a diagnostic on the traffic computers. We let a bird slip.� He paused to listen. �No, I don�t know when. Run it anyway. Right. Thanks.� He hung up the phone and folded his arms, looking at the part of the display screen that named the inbound ship�s owner.

�Biggs Hilsfar, huh?" said Howard, frowining. "Damned cowboy.� He sighed, having no alternative. "Okay, send the hail.�

Zap keyed the transmitter. �Belfast Windfall, Belfast Windfall, this is Starport Central Traffic Control, over.� The reply took a moment.

�Starport, Windfall, five-by-five, over.�

�Windfall, Starport. I have you on an inbound path, bearing two-seven-eight, mark three-four,� said Zap. �Standby for lane brief and customs query, over.�

Howard shook his head and went for his third cup of coffee that morning.

Arth Orbit
Starport Central
Outer Docking Ring

The outer ring smelled of machine oil and steam from dirty water. It was teeming with the longshoremen, robots and utility skiffs that did the muscle work of interstellar commerce.

Arella and Biggs were watching as Hal Jellico boarded an outbound freighter. He turned and waved one more time before disappearing through the docking collar.

�He did great work out there,� said Arella. �I�m not sure we would have come through without him.�

�That�s why he�s two hundred fifty thousand richer,� said Biggs. �But you�re right. He�s a solid contractor. Old style.�

He and Arella turned back toward Belfast Windfall, which was docked down the way.

�What did you do with Vern?� said Biggs, weaving a course through the beat-the-clock bustle of late afternoon.

�He and the two Thrynn are buried in shipping dunnage on the surface of the fourth planet of Folia,� said Arella. �They�ve got an entire planet to themselves. The one we killed in the computer core had the map key strapped to his back.�

�So they snuck off the ship and picked up the case while you were waiting for the G�Nunk to leave,� said Biggs. �Tricky.�

�Plenty,� said Arella. �They thought they were going to pull the thing off completely. I think that�s why they locked Biss in the utility closet instead of killing her. We were extremely lucky in that respect,� she said. �Ux figured out how the Thrynn stowed away in the first place.�

�Outer hull?� said Biggs.

�No,� said Arella. �Bio scan would�ve found them immediately. Vern managed to hide them in one of the cargo pods. It was full of biologicals. Genetic components. Animals. Plants. Food.�

�Smart kid,� said Biggs.

�Computer scans recorded the Thrynn, but counted them as biological cargo,� said Arella. �Ux has fixed the problem. Won�t get us again.�

�So I don�t have to clean out that cargo pod after all?� said Biggs. Arella laughed.

A cool, professional, female voice echoed through the docking ring. It was a recorded reminder to observe air lock protocols. The announcement blended into the rest of the noise. After a short walk, Biggs and Arella arrived back at the Belfast Windfall and made their way to the observation deck.

�Let�s have a look,� said Arella, rolling the Lowar key map onto an antique drafting table. She taped down the four edges.

Biggs opened a leather attach� case and carefully picked up the map key. It was roughly square, and a subdued bronze color. He handed it to Arella.

�So we hold it like this, about thirty centimeters above the map,� said Arella. Three lights came to life on the key and Arella let go. �There.�

The key floated independently and projected three red laser beams that ran across the surface of the map like miniature spotlights. After a moment, the beams came together and focused in on a system far into the territory upspin of the Leghk Sector.

�Just a minute,� said Arella. �There�s more.� The top of the key, still floating over the map, opened. It projected a holographic display of the star system in question. �That planet there,� she said, pointing to the fifth orbital position.

�That�s where we find the loo-loo lizards?� said Biggs.

�That�s the place,� said Arella. �Have you figured out how we�re going to do this? Are we going to harvest the things ourselves or sell the location?�

�We�re going to sell,� said Biggs, settling onto one of the couches. He smiled. �And we�re going to rake in the cash.� Arella leaned into the drafting table.

�I�m guessing we could net ten million,� she said.

�In our sleep,� said Biggs.

�You know, I�ve been thinking,� said Arella. �I might take my share and make a down payment on a ship of my own. I�ve been looking at the new Wyltakin class.�

�Not a bad idea,� said Biggs, taken back a bit. Arella had been one of his crew for a long time � she was more daughter than anything else. He fumbled for something to say. �A few courses and you�d be ready to take on your own ship full time. Sure.� He paused, uncomfortable. Then he decided to shift the subject. �I�ve got a confession.�

�Is that so?� said Arella, a conspiratorial smile coming over her face.

�The new line of ships isn�t so bad.�

�Are you serious?� said Arella, her eyes widening. �This, from Mister Ain�t-Broke-Don�t-Fix? From the guy who hasn�t had a nice thing to say about the new line of ships since they were in the design phase?� Biggs didn�t say anything. �You�re not thinking of buying one are you?�

Still nothing.

�You are! I don�t believe it!�

�I�m serious,� said Biggs, slightly hurt. It was a sensitive topic. �I�ve been thinking about it,� he said, a look of deep consideration settling on his face. �Maybe a Pretender.�

�You mean a Challenger?�

�Whatever.�

�Very well, indeed,� said Arella, unable to resist salting the wound. �Had I not heard it with mine own ears," she continued, glee dancing in her eyes, "I�d deny it before the magistrate.�

Biggs re-evaluated: less of daughter, more of a pain-in-the-neck niece.

Arella looked at her watch. �Come on, boss. We�ll be late. We�re having dinner on the inner ring. Everyone will be there.�

�Inner ring?� said Biggs, his face lighting up. �I feel richer already.� He stood to go. �Now look: about this new ship topic,� he said, letting Arella fill in the rest.

�Don�t worry,� said Arella, laughing as they walked down the ramp. �I won�t say a word. As far as I�m concerned, you�re planning to ride this chunk of patch work and spare parts until it disintegrates.�

�Good,� said Biggs, rapping his knuckles on the underside of the pockmarked hull. �Because I just might.� Together, they walked down the concourse toward the upscale inner ring of the spaceport.

Dinner was waiting, and so were their friends.

-fin-

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