Stump://

Chapter 1

As a bounty hunter, Stump also learned that one should never seem like one had learned such a lesson. Especially here, where the upper crust of the station have gathered, as they do once a month, to show off their new acquisitions and brag about how much they have earned this quarter. It all made Stump sick to the stomach, but no one would ever know. He had to stay inconspicuous and on his best behavior for this client. Mr. Garrity had hired him on as security for this event. And if Mr. Garrity didn't like you for some reason, you'd never work on any of the system stations again.

Stump hated going out-of-system. It' dirty there.

So, for now, Stump just mingled with the uppity single women, gabbed a bit with some older gentleman who seemed to think he was a war vet from the Mine War over a century ago, and all the while kept his eye on the caterer in white who seemed far to aware of his surroundings.

And he had just checked his watch again. An expensive watch, one of the new dermal models. They get implanted in a comfortable spot on the back of the fore arm near the wrist with only the digital face showing. Most people don't notice them, but they leave an impression on the arm, like a lump under the skin. If you know about them, you'd see them every time. Speaking of time, he had just checked his watch again.

"Mr. uh, did you say your name was Rayman? Hello?"

"Oh, sorry. I must have gotten lost in your oceanic eyes, again, Ms. Laura." Stump tried in vain to retrieve the memory of what she had been saying, while using the only "high-class" compliment he knew to stall. He silently thanked the guy who created the False-Eye contacts he was wearing. They were programmed to point at the nearest person to you, creating the illusion of maintaining eye contact while you scanned the room. This way, Stump didn't have to wear his usual sunglasses, which would have made him stick out at this function.

Unfortunately, they did encourage people to keep talking to you. Like Laura Manchester, here. She was pretty enough, but talk to her for a few minutes, and you'd want to take a walk around the outside of the station. Without an Environment Suit. She would talk for an hour about Pop-Tarts if you didn't stop her.

Now Stump had to think of an excuse to leave their "deep" conversation about whatever it was she saw on the Public Access channel last night.

"M'Lady, I'm sorry, but I have just seen a man with whom I do a great deal of business, and I must go speak with him about, uh, business." She would never notice the obvious lie, but it was more for the benefit of whoever might be eavesdropping.

"M'Okay, tee-he." She was really the kind of person who made you believe that nature must abhor her head. In a struggle between the emptiness of space, and her vacuous head, she might just win. Stump hoped it was an act.

And so, having surgically removed himself from a potentially life threatening conversation, Stump weaved his way through the throng, occasionally doing the snap-and-point thing that was in fashion among the wealthy of this station. "Mr. Winslow, how's importing? Good!" snap-and-point. "Dale, this your newest wife? Fine acquisition!" snap-and-point. "Brent Harsow!" snap-and-point, "Been a while!"

When he was close enough, Stump activated his sub-vocal com. It measured the tension of the muscles of the jaw and sent a signal to the receiver, which would translate the signal into sound. If one was as good at using it as Stump was, they could speak without ever seeming like it. Stump, in fact, had perfected the art of talking to someone while sending signals over his sub-vocal com. Kate was on the other end, and she could make sense of the most jumbled garble.

"Kate, this is Stump"

"Well, duh! No one else can receive or send on this frequency, we're encrypted."

"I know, I just wanted to have your attention."

"Well, speak, freak!"

"I have isolated a potential security risk, run his photo; see if we have a winner."

Kate switched on her monitor, and slapped a few keys. She had always hated computers with terminals. Most androids like her do. It's the interfacing that's creepy. She swallowed her pride, though, and keyed the button cam up. Stump was facing sideways from the fellow, so Kate just got a monitor full of cleavage.

"Need I remind you, again, that the button cam only points one way? You need to turn so I can see him."

Stump swung his chest around and pointed it right at the questionable caterer. "The one on the right."

"Running it now."

Stump returned to the party, but took care to not loose sight of the man.

"Did you loose him?" chimed an all-too-sweet female voice near his ear.

Laura again. Great. He'd recognize the voice anywhere.

"Yeah, I think so." Stump felt a little defeated, right then. Okay, he felt a lot defeated; after all, his bluff had been called by the one person the universe could be jealous of for the abundance of space between her ears. "So, I think we were talking about jelly beans." Stump had retired to the thought of using her to camouflage himself again. He could try and glide along in a conversation with her again.

"No, we were discussing my oceanic eyes."

Oh, no. He had unwittingly used a reference that placed him as a planet native.

Very few people were from Earth, these days. Most of the population had migrated to the Stations, and a great deal of them ran cargo. There were supposed to be more people outside the system now than inside. So the people from Earth were highly looked upon when they visited this far out. And using a compliment like "oceanic eyes" had the effect of being the most gracious comment a planet-sider could make. And since planet-siders were notorious art lovers, people generally thought that they only appreciated beauty.

Of course, Stump had never been closer to Earth than a visit that landed him on the surface of Mars. And he was only there because his shuttle had mysterious mechanical problems. Ones that he had caused. That was, after all, his job at the time.

So now, he had unwittingly made a friend he would rather not have made. Shmoosing was a talent Stump seemed born with, and that made him highly valuable to his wealthier clients. He had met in meetings with thousands of the systems most powerful men and women. But this was only his third party event. The social rules change a bit from the office to the cocktail bar.

"So," Stump was stuck, now. He had to end this conversation and go find the man again. Realizing that he had made this huge error, he had lost the slippery server.

"So?"

"Um, yeah. So where does such a beautiful woman get such lovely eyes out here on the Rings?"

The station was on the rings of Saturn. There were only three stations out past Jupiter; Saturn Station, the Neptune Station, and System End. Saturn Station was built with an orbit that kept it slightly askew from the plane of the ring, so you could always see the reflective quality and the rainbow spectrum in the ice. It was a beautiful view.

"They're natural."

Oh, well, in that case... Stump wanted to think about saying something clever and insulting, but the vacuous I.Q. of this girl seemed to suck the wit right out of him.

"Try, 'Mine are died.'" Kate squelched a bit over the com, but Stump almost lost it anyway. As he desperately stifled a fit of laughter, Laura's father sidled up to them. Mr. Manchester owned the Manchester Shipping Corp. They almost exclusively supplied the stations out past Mars, and he was here on business with Mr. Garrity to discuss making Manchester shipping the only system supplier. Combined with Mr. Garrity's warehouses in the interior of the system, they could form an untouchable monopoly. You can understand why Mr. Garrity would higher one of the most notorious bounty hunters in the system as security.

I hope you can forgive me, Mr. Rayman, but I must steal my daughter back. Our shuttle is leaving." Stump felt that Mr. Manchester had good feelings about him, but he still hoped to never have to work for him. Stump spoke to him briefly about dehydration techniques earlier in the evening. As the two left the small convention hall, Stump silently wished them a one way ride out of his life. Smile, snap-and-point.

*****

"Stump! Can you read? Stump, come in!"

"Problem?" Stump knew it was a loaded question, and Kate would remind him later about asking androids loaded questions, but he was feeling much wittier now.

"Stump, I've been jammed for thirty seconds! Someone knows we're here!"

"What about the time-conscious caterer? Did you have a hit?"

"Yeah. Merc named Harley Didier. Specializes in big explosions. He is currently wanted, so if you pick him up, there's a reward." Kate was still sounding a bit scrambled.

"I lost him. I'll look in the kitchen, but--"

"No time, if he's gone, you're in trouble. Get Mr. Garrity out of there."