The Privateer (12 page)

Ekron straightened, placing his briefcase on his lap. “Yes, well, I should also mention that your generous contribution will make her a very wealthy woman here.”

Cale nodded, smiling.

“But now,” Ekron continued, “We come to my business. The registration you provided upon your arrival indicates that your ship is a fast courier, with limited passenger accommodation. I notice, however, that you have not placed a notice on the Worldnet advertising your availability.”

“Well, no,” Cale replied. “Circumstances forced me to divert to Faith, but I have obligations in other systems that will not permit me to solicit contracts here.”

Ekron’s smile faded slightly. “Yes. Well, I’m afraid you will have to accept one. A government contract. You will find the terms quite generous, but I’m afraid we must insist.”

Cale frowned. “I see. What is the nature of this non-negotiable contract?

Ekron clicked the hasps and opened his briefcase. “We have an unfortunate individual who is being sent into exile. We wish to contract you to transport this individual off-world.”

Cale’s frown deepened. “You want me to transport a criminal? Why not just slap them in jail? Or execute them?”

Ekron flushed and cleared his throat noisily. “Yes, well, she isn’t actually a
criminal
, at least not in the conventional sense. But she is a troublemaker and rabble rouser of the worst sort.” His face lost its professional neutrality and his tone gained an edge of anger. “Her actions against both the Church and the government have been so disruptive as to constitute religious and social terrorism,” he continued. “Both the government and the church agree that this person is a threat to the civil and spiritual well-being of the people of Faith.” Ekron seemed to gather himself and regain his composure.

“She constantly accuses the Church and state of illegal and immoral collusion, and keeps referring to the government as a theocracy comparable to the old Mission for the Greater Glory of God.”

“Is it?” Cale asked quietly.

Ekron’s equilibrium slipped again. “Of course not! Oh, there are some slight similarities, of course. Our ancestors fled a secular tyranny on Greenfields. We have virtually universal membership in the Church, so naturally the Church is an influential institution." He scowled. "She knows better, of course. Her father is the Supreme Archbishop of the Church on Faith. Yet she continues her vile charges.”

Ekron seemed to collect himself, and rummaged in his briefcase. “Now, to business,” he said with a meaningless smile. “The government has authorized a payment in Alliance credits equal to the standard fare for a trip of two jumps on a vessel of your class. It has also authorized payment of the reward that was offered for her conviction, as a substantial bonus.

“In addition,” he continued as though awarding a prize, “the Church has agreed to match that bonus. All payments to be in cash, of course. You will do very well off this slight detour, Captain. Oh, there is one more thing," he added. "The senior Archbishop is naturally concerned with his daughter’s welfare. You will be carrying a substantial letter of credit drawn on an Ararat bank in Alliance credits. Once you reach your destination, and release the young lady, you are to give her the letter of credit. It is hoped that it will help her establish a new and more positive life on another planet.”

“So, where am I supposed to take her?”

Ekron shrugged. "Anywhere she chooses, as long as it is at least two jumps distant from Faith"

Cale shrugged. "With all those Alliance credits, what's to keep her from booking another ship back?"

Ekron's slow smile was tinged with malice. "Nothing except common sense, Captain. I rather wish she would. Then she
would
be a common criminal. We know very well how to deal with those on Faith."

I'll bet you do, Cale thought. "And when might I expect my passenger?"

"At any time now, Captain. Once she arrives, you are not to release her bonds or her gag until you are in space. She is to be given no opportunity to escape." Ekron's expression turned savage. "To be honest, once you get into space, I don't care if you
space
the stupid chit! Just make sure she never sees Faith again!" He handed Cale a thick envelope of Alliance Credits, then grabbed his briefcase, and stamped out the hatch, his two-man escort hurrying to catch up.

Cale shook his head and sighed. He was
still
not going to have a chance to investigate Tess. And the more he learned about Tess, the more she was beginning to frighten him. On top of that, he was going to be saddled with yet another wayward female. Shaking his head, he went to check that the stateroom used by Ruth would be usable for — whatever her name was.

Fortunately, Ruth was a fastidious person. The stateroom was, he admitted ruefully, in better condition than his own. He returned to the main lounge just in time to see a medical ambulance pull up to the bottom of
Cheetah
's ramp. Four burly men got out. Two of them were in the traditional white of the medical profession, but the other two wore civilian clothing and the indefinable air that screamed "Cop".

The med techs slid a stretcher from the ambulance, ignoring the struggles of the figure it carried. One of the cops grabbed a small travel bag and led the others up the ramp. The other brought up the rear. The cheerful, smiling air of the cop in front reminded Cale of Smiley. "We've brought your passenger, Captain," he said in a hearty, friendly tone, "Where do you want her?"

Cale rose to lead the group to the now-empty stateroom. As he had thought, the stretcher contained a thoroughly bound and gagged young woman. Above the gag, her green eyes were narrowed and her face was red with anger. Her brown hair whipped from side to side with her head in impotent fury. Cale told himself he would need to be very careful when releasing
this
tigress!

The white-coated med techs swiftly and smoothly moved their helpless patient from the stretcher to the bunk, ignoring her struggles and the muffled "umph" when they dropped her on the bed.

"Strap her in good, boys," the cop instructed. "We wouldn't want her to fall out of bed during liftoff!" He laughed loudly at his own joke, and then turned to Cale.

"This bag is her belongings," he said cheerfully, "and here's the releaser for the stickybonds," the man said. "I expect you've been told you're not to release her until you're in space. The same restriction goes for the gag," he continued, "and you should be glad for it. Otherwise she'd bust your eardrums and teach you some cuss words you didn't know!" He laughed heartily again, then he and the other cop followed the med techs down the ramp.

Cale decided that the best course of action was to get off Faith before he attracted any more government attention. "Tess," he asked, "Are we ready to lift?"

"Reprovisioning and fueling are complete, Captain," came the crisp reply. "We can lift as soon as we get clearance and seal hatches."

"Good," he replied, "Let's get out of here before anything
else
happens!"

He called the control tower and received almost immediate liftoff clearance. Wow, he thought. They
really
want to get rid of this woman!

As soon as they were in space, Cale took a deep breath, and then headed for the passenger stateroom.

The woman was still struggling, but she stopped as he entered the stateroom. He decided to remove the bonds first. "Now," he said to the woman, "No hitting, please. I'm not the one who sent you here." He sprayed the releaser on the bonds, and they disintegrated. She stretched, and then reached for the gag.

"I'll get it." he told her. He unfastened the strap behind her neck, and she spit out the packing that had been forced into her mouth. She started cursing, but all that came out was a croak.

"Oh," Cale said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize they'd packed your mouth." He hurried to the stateroom's 'fresher, and got a glass of water. When he returned, she was sitting up and moving her jaw from side to side. She snatched at the water, and emptied the glass without stopping. He returned to the 'fresher, and came back to find her standing unsteadily beside the bunk. Even in its current ruffled state, her shoulder-length chestnut hair framed her rather square face perfectly. The oversized prison jumpsuit she wore largely concealed her figure, but she certainly wasn't obese. It took her slightly longer this time to empty the glass. He took the glass from her, and found her looking at him with an angry scowl.

"Why didn't you release me earlier? You didn't have to wait!"

Cale shrugged. "It was a condition of the contract. I released you as soon as I could."

"Contract!" she replied angrily. She shot off an impressive string of profanity, and then noticed Cale simply standing and watching.

"Well, what are
you
looking at?" she demanded angrily.

Cale smiled. "My first religious and social terrorist," he replied.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. A giggle escaped, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. Finally, the scowl faded, and a genuine smile appeared. "You've been talking to Aron Ekron. That's been his favorite phrase in every interview and Worldnet piece since I refused to marry him two years ago."

"So," Cale asked, "Exactly what does a religious and social terrorist do?"

She shrugged. "Mostly try to instill a desire for personal freedom in a people that haven't had it in centuries. I write articles and post vids on the Worldnet. Sometimes I talk to groups or do interviews. Trying to convince the people that the church and the government should be separate."

"Well, I don't know how much success you've had, but you sure got Ekron worked up. Do terrorists have names? Besides code names, I mean?" He smiled.

Her answering smile was bright, and lit her whole face. When she smiled, he thought, she was beautiful. "Indeed we do. My father must have been drunk when he named me 'Delilah'. It's hardly an illustrious name in the Bible." She stuck out a hand, and vigorously shook Cale's. "Delilah Raum. Everyone calls me 'Del' or 'Dee'." She dropped her hand and took a seat in one of the lounges' luxurious chairs. "As for Aron, he is a 'rising star' in the government. His father has been Prime Minister for as long as I can remember. Everybody assumed that the Supreme Archbishop's daughter and the Prime Minister's son would marry as soon as they were old enough. Everybody but me. Aron is a self-righteous prig and a Traditionalist. There was no way I wanted to marry that jerk and then sit in the shadows making babies while he ran the planet.

"The stink was amazing when I turned him down. My father ordered, demanded, and finally pleaded with me to marry the man. I had to suffer through visit after visit from Aron. He just could not believe he wasn't the Lord's gift to me.

"Finally, I just left. 'Ran away', my father says. I started trying to figure out why it was so important to everyone. I concluded they were trying to start a line of hereditary rulers.

"That's when I started talking to anyone who would listen, trying to warn them that they were being seduced into creating a hereditary monarchy. Finally, they trapped me with a phony interview. They've had me locked up for six months now. They didn't know what to do with me." She looked at him with a level gaze. "I guess your arrival gave them an idea. What are we supposed to do now?"

Cale gave a theatrical shrug. "I haven't the faintest idea. I was told that you are to select a destination at least two jumps from Faith, and I'm to take you there. Your father sent along a large letter of credit that you are apparently supposed to use to start a new life. The only thing you
can't
do is return to Faith."

Her expression sagged into sadness. "So I'm forever banished from my home. How soon must I select a destination?"

Cale licked his lips. "Well, we're three days from the jump point. We'll need at least half a day to compute the entry for whatever world you select."

She nodded soberly. "So, two and a half days." Her shoulders were sagging and her head was low.

"Yes," he replied. "You'll find that
Cheetah
is equipped with an excellent AI that contains an up-to-date
stellar index
, and will be happy to help you choose. Just call her name, Tess, and she will respond immediately. By the way, I know terrorists can be a bit paranoid, but Tess doesn't spy on you. Her cameras and speakers are inactive unless you call her name, as I just did. Please introduce yourself, Tess."

"Yes, Captain," the AI's pleasant contralto replied. "I am Tess, the ship's Artificial Intelligence. I contain data on over eight thousand systems and well over a thousand settled worlds. I would be pleased to assist you in selecting a destination."

Cale was jolted again. Tess would be 'pleased'? Well, he thought hopefully, perhaps it was just an expression. Still . . .

After briefing Dee on the amenities of the stateroom, Cale left her to get cleaned up and perhaps have a good cry. After all, she had just lost the only home she had ever known. He returned to his own stateroom where, he decided, it was time to talk to Tess.

"All right, Tess," he began."Several things you've said and done recently have concerned me. There are rumors that the Alliance actually built sentient AIs. I'm asking you flat out: Are you one of those?"

There was no delay in the response. "I could truthfully say 'no', Captain, since I was not constructed by the Alliance, which didn't exist at the time. However, it has been obvious to me for several weeks that this discussion was inevitable. I was constructed at the Chilson Shipyard on Outback in the Rim Sector of the Empire. Viceroy Sander Cord ordered a yacht built with cost no object, to display the excellence of Rim craftsmanship. My ship name was
Rimrunner
, and I was called 'Kaleen'.

"It was during the Rim Insurgency that Admiral Val Kedron discovered, or possibly initiated, my sentience. It was my honor to assist the Admiral and the Viceroy during the Insurgency, for which the Emperor awarded me the Bronze Comet in a secret ceremony. The citation and the medal are presently in a box containing an inert atmosphere hidden aboard.