Torchship (3 page)

Malachi wasn’t discouraged. “I
expected some modification would be needed for your ship to do this venture. I
see it as a proof of concept and advertising for future regular trips. Some
beacons to extend the datanet will be the expensive end of those. So there’s no
need for the tourist fees to cover your shipyard bills, I’ll cover that out of
my capital.”

Schwartzenberger mentally
added a zero to how much Jones might pay for that little trip. “We can look at
how quick we can put a big viewport in and have the shipyard give you an
estimate.”

“Great! Once you get started
on the viewport I’ll send out some advertisements with the date for the trip. Won’t
get very many for the first time but they should give me good word of mouth. I
can judge the response and decide whether to invest in some datanet beacons.”

“You wouldn’t use a Disconnect
ship for a regular run?” asked the captain, not that he wanted to permanently
port on a Fusion world.

“Telling people they’ll be
off-net for a day cuts out 90% of my customers. These people want to tell their
friends about things as they’re doing it.”

“Huh. Well, it’s your
customers.” The captain picked up the contact card Malachi had laid on the
table. “We’ll get you that estimate as quick as we can.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to
hearing from you.” He stood and shook hands with the captain. “Good to meet you,
sir. Ladies, gentlemen.”

Everyone waited until the
purple flyer went out of sight before starting to chatter. Schwartzenberger
fielded Billy’s “Is this for real?” first.

“Yes, I think it’s real. There’s
a lot of bored rich people on this ball, and a lot of them got rich by finding
a way to get bored people excited. So our new friend may pull in a lot of money
by the time the fad runs its course. Now, the opportunity being real doesn’t
mean Jones is real. Bing, do some research on the guy, let’s see if he really
has the money. Guo, think about where we can have a window that can go back to
structure after our little trip. Mitchie, figure out a course to Kronos that
gives a few different views of the rings. Give me some time versus fuel
options.”

“Working it, Skipper.”
Mitchie held up her datasheet. Kronos’ rings turned slowly as an overlay
tracked the ship’s position.

“Good. Let’s get to work.”

***

Billy whistled cheerfully as
he entered through the open airlock. He stopped when he saw the hold. “Shit!
What are all the frigging lights on for? It’s the middle of the night!”

Guo shouted back “I’m working
here!”

“Okay, okay, just leave the
lights on quietly.” Billy walked carefully over. “You’re not working, you’re
staring.”

“I’m trying to figure out how
big a viewport we can put in the main cargo hatch. It’s the thinnest big
structural panel. Just have to avoid the wires and supports.”

Billy looked over the sketch
in the mechanic’s hand. “Wiggly. How are you going to get it in?”

“Welding,” said Guo. “Cut out
the panels, weld in some transparent aluminum, then reverse. That way we can do
most of it ourselves and not have to pay shipyard rates.”

“Oh, God.” Billy flashed back
to his last time sweating for hours in a welding mask. Unlike Guo, he wasn’t
going to have more important things to do. “Isn’t there an easier way to do it?”

“How? The only weaker spots
in the hull are too small for a decent viewport. We have to use the hatch.”

Billy looked at the cargo
hatch. A quarter of the hold’s circumference opened out as two doors. “Yeah…
but why cut holes in it?” he asked.
Cause that would suck
. “Just yank
out the whole hatch.”

“The whole thing?” Guo
pivoted to look over the entire hatch.

“Sure. We’re not loading any
cargo until we get back. Just tackweld a panel over the hole and we’re good.”

Guo paused to absorb this. “Tackwelds
wouldn’t hold the pressure. We’d need to put a reinforcing ring over the edge
and weld both edges. But that’d work, yeah. Just get the yard to bend some TAl
to the right shape and we can put it on.”

“Okay, I’m going to go sleep
off this head before I do any welding. G’night.”

“Good night.” Guo shook his
head as Billy wandered to the ladder.

***

Bing entered the captain’s
cabin without knocking. “He’s for real, Alois. He spots fads, popularizes them,
then sells out at the peak. Or goes bankrupt. Done each about half a dozen
times. Last one was a bust. Probably has a silent partner putting in the money
for this one.”

“I don’t care if he makes a
profit as long as we do.” He put his book down gently and picked up a
datasheet. He re-read his proposed letter carefully. A tap sent it off to
Malachi Jones. His mind cleared, he let Bing start going over the ship’s
inventory with him.

They were only a quarter into
it when the sheet chimed with a call from Malachi. “Hello, Captain! Thank you
for the quick turnaround. I’ve deposited the funds for the modification and the
half down for the trip in your account.”

Schwartzenberger’s poker face
almost slipped. “You’re welcome, sir, and thank you.”

“Those animations should help
too, thank you for sending them. Well, I have to round up some customers. Please
keep me posted on how the mods go, Captain.”

“Of course, sir. Good day.”
The sheet went dark again. Schwartzenberger leaned against the wall. “Holy shit.
He didn’t haggle at all.”

Bing smirked. “How much did
you soak him for?”

“Enough to charter a luxury
liner for that long.”

“Well … hazard pay. We’ll be
off-net. Fuzies get all rabbitty when there’s no rescuebot standing by to pull
them out of the fire.”

“Maybe.” The captain laughed.
“He paid it! Even if he stiffs us on the second half, we’re a couple months
ahead now.”

“Instead of three months
behind?”

“One behind. Hauling that
tokamak shell here was a nice run. We just started to lose ground with not finding
a run back out to the Disconnect.”

“Oh, what were the
animations?” asked Bing.

“Mitchie did some tourist’s
eye views of Kronos. Something to catch their eye. Her idea. Sharp kid. She’s a
lucky find, almost as lucky as this tourist job.”

“Yeah, she’s sharp. But I’m
still not easy about the job. It’s just too good.”

“We’re not getting asked to
smuggle anything. I don’t care if they’re money laundering. If they’re hiding
from cops they’re only getting a week of it. So I don’t care what the catch is.”

“You admit there’s a catch
then.”

“There always is. But the
money’s good.”

***

Guo pivoted the chair toward
Mitchie. She grabbed its leg and butted it up against one of the pop-up
handholds in the cargo hold floor. A bit of wire held it firmly in place. Guo
finished with his end and gave the whole thing a firm shake. “That’ll hold. I
guess it’s safe enough. I’m just amazed we can get away with it.”

Mitchie laughed. “Disconnect
ships are death traps, Guo. The Fusion thinks anyone setting foot on one
deserves to be out of the gene pool.” She hushed as they heard voices from the
personnel lock. “Skipper, they’re here.”

The captain wiped his hands
on his polishing cloth. He tossed it to Billy. The deckhand gathered up the
cleaning supplies. He headed for the storage cabinet, thankful the synchronized
wiping game was over. The captain put on his best smile to welcome his guests.

Bing and Malachi led a gaggle
of groundhogs into the hold. “Hello, I’m Captain Alois Schwartzenberger, master
of the
Fives Full
. Welcome aboard. I hope your time here will be
entertaining and educational. You’ve met my first mate, Shi Bingrong. Here’s
the rest of our crew. Guo Kwan, mechanic. Michigan Long, pilot. And William
Lee, deckhand.” Billy welcomed them with a blinding smile. Or possibly that was
just for the three teenage girls. “For your safety you’ll need to stay in this
room for the trip. When we’re maneuvering you’ll have to belt yourselves in to
your seats.” He waved toward the patio furniture Malachi had delivered that
morning. “We have a variety of drinks and snacks available for the trip. Bing
will stay with you here, please ask her for anything you need. Thank you for
coming with us. We’ll be ready for lift-off in about twenty minutes. Crew, to
your stations.” Mitchie and Guo headed for opposite ladders.

Schwartzenberger detoured to
grab Billy’s shoulder. He whispered, “They’re underage. Touch them and it’s the
airlock.” The smile went away.

Bing shepherded her charges
into the seats. They promptly split into groups. An expensively-dressed teenage
girl named Bobbie was celebrating her birthday. A couple of friends and a
relative made it a party. An astronomy professor dragged three graduate
students with him. One tourist wasn’t in either group, an accountant named
Mussa.

The birthday girl claimed the
seat closest to the center of the viewport. Her two friends took the flanking
seats. Her uncle hung back, waving the other tourists ahead of him. Billy found
himself drafted to help secure the professor’s recording gear to the deck. A
brief argument led to Bing ruling in favor of giving humans a better view than
machines. The professor settled his grad students to the left. The birthday
party’s chaperoning uncle played “After-you-sir-no-after-you” with the
remaining tourist until he took the front row seat and the uncle got the back
row one “away from the giggles.”

With everyone seated Billy
began the safety lecture. Bing faded to the back of the hold and pulled out her
comm. “Mitchie, we’re ready to go.”

“Good,” replied the pilot. “We’re
ten minutes into our launch window.” The private chat clicked off as Mitchie
came on the PA. “All hands, lift-off in three minutes.” The aeroturbines
started whining as they spun up. Several of the passengers clapped their hands
to their ears. Bing added earplugs to her list of things for next time.

“All hands, brace for
lift-off.” Bing reached out to the wall to steady herself but needn’t have
bothered. The pilot wasted fuel to give them a slow, gentle ascent. Billy walked
among the passengers to check their comfort. The seats’ fabric had stretched a
little, but no one looked alarmed. As
Fives Full
cleared the spaceport
the pre-dawn city came into view. Familiar landmarks distracted the tourists.
Easy
money
, thought Bing.
As long as there’s no catch for us.

Demeter System, En Route
to Kronos. Acceleration 10 m/s
²

Fives Full
boosted at ten gravs, close to what humans had felt
on ancestral Earth. The tourists had all grown up on gentle Demeter and felt a
third heavier than they were used to. The crew used that to encourage them to
stay put. Billy served lunches to their seats. Bing chatted a bit with each,
answering all the usual groundhog questions.

Six hours into flight Bing
commed the captain. “Sir, they’re stable enough to handle free fall when you
want to do the cool-down.”

“Guo says we’re good for 80
minutes before we hit the limit,” answered Schwartzenberger. “I’ll make sure
you get plenty of warning.”

“Thanks.”

In a bit Mitchie activated
the PA. “All hands, stand by for free-falling in thirty minutes. Free falling
in three zero minutes.”

Bing stepped in front of the
passengers as the announcement ended. “To keep our torch operating at peak
efficiency we have to let it cool off periodically. We’ll be deploying the
cooling wings, don’t worry if you hear a rattling sound. You won’t be able to
see them from this window, which is a shame because they’re gorgeous. We’ll be
coasting until the torch is ready to fire again. This gives you all a chance to
practice zero-gee maneuvering before we get to Kronos. We’re going to start off
simple. Billy is rigging a net in front of the window. When we’re free-falling
I’d like each of you to go end to end a few times. But first let’s take a
chance to make bio stops while we still have acceleration.” The younger people
all leapt up. Uncle John trailed after his charges.

The professor went to check
on his equipment. “How did you get all this high-tech gear on board?” asked the
ninth tourist. “All they let me have was a dumb-reader.” Bing turned away to
hide a resentful expression. The uneditable library he waved around would fetch
real money on a Disconnected World.

“Oh, it’s licensed for
off-world use,” said Professor Tsugawa. “The Astronomy department developed it
for unmanned observation missions. It has separate processors for
self-monitoring. If any code goes corrupt it detonates a self-destruct charge.”
His interlocutor turned pale. “Well, this is a prototype, so it just has an
alarm to tell us to disassemble it.”

“Oh. I guess that’s more
trouble than I’d want to take. I just hate to miss out on a whole week of work.”

Professor Tsugawa shrugged. “I’m
not getting much work in either. I wanted to bring a datasheet for organizing
the data we collect but they’re all net-bound.”