A Brother's Debt (8 page)

“If you will follow me I’ll take you to the bridge so we can sort out the manifest and other documentation while your men make a start on their search.” Before he guided the Phard up to the bridge he closed the outer airlock doors, not wanting anymore rain to get in than had already. “I should warn you, some parts of the ship are not very clean or tidy at the moment,” he said over his shoulder as he led the way across the cargo bay and up the stairs to the upper deck. “I only inherited the ship from my brother a little over a week ago, and I have not yet had the time to sort everything out.” He felt the need to explain himself, not wanting the security officers to think he was responsible for the mess.

Chapter Fifteen

“Well, Phard, is everything in order?” Step enquired when the search had been completed. He had followed on the heels of the BSS officer and his men as they spent more than three hours going through the ship. At the start of the search he had been worried they would find the package he was carrying for Carboni, but after observing their search efforts for a while his concerns disappeared.

Though Phard Bruin was clearly an officious sort, who revelled in the small amount of power he had been given, he didn’t really know what he was doing. His comment about the engine room being the place most often used as a hiding place was obviously something he had been told, or had heard. His men made only the most cursory of searches, remarking a few times on the need for maintenance, and he lacked the experience to know they weren’t being thorough.

The response was a nod. “You are cleared to trade here Captain. I trust the next time your ship is examined it will be in better order than it is now.”

Step chose not to respond to the younger man’s comment. He could tell, from the disgruntled look on his face, the Phard had been hoping to find something illegal hidden away on the ship, or something not in order he could issue a fine for. Failing to do so had annoyed him, and the only response open to him was to remark on the messiness in the areas Step had not found the time to clean and tidy.

Most of the ship had drawn disapproving looks from the young officer during the course of the search. Not that Step was surprised; cleaning, tidying, and conducting maintenance on the bridge and in the engine room had taken longer than he had expected. Apart from those two areas, the only other area of Gambler’s Luck that no longer looked as it had when he first stepped foot on board the ship was the galley.

For as long as the ground-car remained in sight Step stayed at the top of the ramp, watching it move away, then he re-entered the ship and closed the outer doors. He had a lot to do, with the search finished, but first on the list was a check of Carboni’s package. The BSS officers had come close to the package a couple of times during their search, though they hadn’t found it, and he wanted to make sure they hadn’t disturbed it.

Descending to the lower level of the engine room Step made his way round to the other side of the main assembly. Attached to the assembly, near the bottom but in plain sight, was the package he was delivering for Carboni. Since he didn’t know of anywhere in the ship to hide it, he supposed it was something he would have to consider in case he was given anymore packages to deliver, he had chosen to disguise it.

The disguise had held up under the search, though that was more the result of the officers’ laxity than his creativity. He had even been advised that the part was in danger of coming off and should be replaced or repaired as soon as possible.

When he had satisfied himself that the package was still secure and disguised, if not as well as he would have liked, Step left the engine room. On his way to the bridge he detoured and grabbed an energy bar from the galley and tore it open. By the time he reached the pilot’s seat he had already consumed half the bar.

Stuffing the rest of the bar into his mouth he chewed noisily as he opened up a coms line. The first thing he did, since he wasn’t capable of speaking just then, was to leave messages for the recipients of the packages he had agreed to deliver. In each case the message was the same; he let them know he had arrived with their packages and they could collect them from the spaceport’s collection centre, where he would be taking them just as soon as he had sorted a few other things.

It didn’t take him long to complete those messages, though it was long enough for him to finish the energy bar he had filled his mouth with. Since his mouth was empty, and he could talk again, he put a call through to Carboni’s local business to arrange collection of the two cargo containers he had brought from Jum Palt.

The coms unit beeped to indicate he had an incoming transmission as he was dealing with the rest of his cargo, on which he had realised a profit of just over one and a half thousand credits, a much better figure than he had expected. After he had completed the call he was already on Step accepted the incoming call, wondering as he did who could be contacting him; he half expected it to be the BSS again.

“Good afternoon, Captain Velkin, forgive me for contacting you out of the blue like this, my name is Grange Dollier. I am an acquaintance of Ettore Carboni and would like to discuss some business with you.”

The mention of business from an acquaintance of Carboni’s didn’t please Step. He was unhappy enough with the job Carboni had given him, and the thought that there would be more before his debt was repaid, without being asked to do jobs for his friends as well. He had enough sense to realise an outright refusal wasn’t a good idea however.

Until he repaid Carboni he had little choice about certain things in his life, if he wanted to continue having one.

“How can I help you, Mr Dollier?” Step asked, keeping a lid on his thoughts and schooling his features so they revealed nothing. It was a trick he had learned in the navy to avoid letting superior officers know what he felt about the pointless or dangerous missions they ordered him on.

“I prefer not to discuss my business over an unsecured coms line; I’m sure a navy man like yourself can appreciate that.” Since a response seemed to be expected of him Step nodded. “Good. Why don’t we meet at my restaurant, we can have a bite to eat while we discuss business.

“No need for you to worry about trying to find it, I’ve sent a car to pick you up, it should be there shortly.” With that the connection was cut, leaving Step sitting there, feeling a little like the air had been knocked out of him. Even if he had wanted to decline the invitation he had been given no opportunity to do so.

Once he recovered Step pushed himself up from the pilot’s chair. Based on the clothes worn by Grange Dollier his current outfit wouldn’t be suitable for his restaurant, not that his other clothes were much better, nonetheless he was sure he could find something a little more presentable.

It didn’t take him long to clean himself up and change into his best outfit, but by the time he had the car Grange Dollier had sent for him was waiting. A little nervous he locked up the ship and settled into the rear of the car, which immediately set off across the spaceport to the exit.

Chapter Sixteen

The drive lasted for almost thirty minutes, long enough for the car to reach the other side of Barth City by Step’s reckoning, and when it came to a stop he climbed out. Step assumed they had reached the restaurant, though the driver didn’t say; he hadn’t spoken a single word the entire drive. Almost before he had closed the door the car sped away, leaving him in front of what appeared to be a rather seedy diner. It wasn’t anything like he had expected based on Grange Dollier’s appearance on the coms screen.

Uncertainly Step approached the entrance, and when the doors swung open before him he walked through. On the other side of the doors was a surprise. While the exterior looked like a diner that was in decline, inside was a restaurant whose lobby was decorated richly enough that it was worth more than Gambler’s Luck had been when the ship was new. Step didn’t even want to think what the rest of the furnishings, when he saw them, were worth.

He mentally calculated that he could have paid off what he owed to Carboni, and walked away with a healthy profit, with just a couple of the paintings from the lobby.

“Do you have a reservation, Sir?” the very attractive, and well-dressed young lady standing to one side of the main room’s doors enquired, showing not the slightest concern that his outfit was clearly far below the standards of the restaurant.

“The name is Velkin; I am here to meet Mr Dollier.”

“Yes, Sir,” her demeanour didn’t change in the slightest when she heard he was meeting the owner and he got the impression it was not unusual for Grange Dollier to meet all kinds of people at his restaurant. “If you will follow me I will show you to his table.”

Step was more than happy to follow her, the outfit the young woman was wearing clung to her body in all the right places and presented a very appealing view as he walked behind her. The view was so distracting that a couple of times he almost bumped into tables, avoiding them just in time.

“Mr Dollier, your guest has arrived,” the young lady announced, coming to a halt next to a table in a booth whose position, and design, ensured no-one could approach without being seen, and any conversations taking place in it would remain unheard, except by those involved. “Mr Velkin, this is Mr Dollier.”

“Thank you Hilary. Mr Velkin, please have a seat.” Grange Dollier didn’t rise, he merely gestured to the other side of the table, where Step dutifully sat.

“Can I get you anything, Sir?”

“Another bottle of Dom Lyon ’89, I trust that will be suitable for you, Mr Velkin. It is a good year, though not the best; the finer vintages are so difficult to acquire out here in the frontier sector.” Dollier looked politely across the table at Step, who could only nod, never having had the opportunity to drink Dom Lyon before then, not even a lesser vintage. “If you will permit, Stepanovich, may I call you Step?” again he could only nod, “I shall order for you. I would like you to taste the very best my chef can offer.” With that he directed a series of rapid orders at Hilary.

Step assumed the young woman had an excellent memory, for she made no attempt to record the order she was given, but he was more concerned with why Dollier was treating him to such an obviously expensive meal and quickly put from his mind the question of whether she would remember everything that had been ordered.

The wine arrived first, and Step was enjoying his second glass when the food was brought out by a waiter who disappeared as rapidly as he had appeared. Throughout the meal Dollier maintained polite conversation on a range of subjects, seeming to know just what to talk about to allow Step to contribute without being out of his depth.

“I trust you have enjoyed the meal, Step,” Dollier said when they were finished.

More full than he could remember being Step pushed away his dessert plate, surprised that he had found the space to fit the slice of apple and cinnamon tart with vanilla ice cream, and nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mr Dollier, it has been, without a doubt, the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” As at the end of every course a waiter appeared to take the finished dishes away, almost before he had laid down his spoon. There was no sign of any waiters nearby, and Dollier made no gesture to summon anyone, yet the moment a course was finished a waiter appeared to whisk away the dishes, and supply the next course seconds later.

“I will make certain to pass on your compliments to the chef, I am sure he will be most gratified.”

If the man across the table from him was being insincere Step couldn’t tell. Several times during the meal he had found himself wondering about Grange Dollier’s words, they sounded sincere, and he seemed genuinely interested in their conversation, but Step’s instincts told him something wasn’t quite right. Not least of which was his being treated to a meal that, based on the restaurant, would have cost him well over a hundred credits if he had been paying for it.

“When you contacted me, you said you are an associate of Mr Carboni’s, and you have some business I might be interested in. Do you think we could discuss that now?” Step asked, wanting to find out what was going on, aware they had been there for more than an hour and he still had things to do before he could leave the planet and begin his journey to Onegal 3 to make his delivery.

“Of course, but I feel I should correct you on one thing. I said I am an acquaintance of Mr Carboni’s, not an associate. We do not conduct business together, if anything we are rivals, though the business I wish to discuss with you does involve him.”

Step’s instincts screamed a warning to him as Dollier spoke and he had to fight the urge to get up from the table and make for the exit straight away. His instincts had never led him wrong before, in fact they had saved him on any number of occasions, and he was sure they were right just then. Nonetheless he remained at the table, deciding it was best to find out exactly what was going on before he said or did anything he would regret. “What business would that be?”

“Mr Carboni has entrusted you with the delivery of a package, a package you are to deliver to a Mr Fesa on Onegal 3. I would like to buy that package from you for twenty five thousand credits.

“Surely you agree that is a more than fair price for such a small item,” he said when Step didn’t immediately respond to his offer.