Argonauts 1: Bug Hunt Read online

  “What spooked them?” Rade said.

  “I detected a transmission from one of the comm nodes at the Gate,” Lui said. Those comm nodes, also known as Node Probes, constantly passed in and out of the middle of the Gate, and kept the ships, bases, and cities in the current system linked to the InterGalNet via delay-tolerant networking.

  “Do we know the sender?” Rade asked.

  “I’m uncrunching the metadata now,” Bender said.

  Because of the nature of the InterGalNet, all ships would receive the same packets, regardless of whether the intended recipient was aboard. While the actual contents of the message were encrypted beyond breaking, the metadata itself usually remained in the clear, or was only mildly encrypted. Even so, it was still considered an illegal act to uncrunch that metadata, but Bender had a way to do it without getting caught.

  Bender looked up. “The sender is one Green Systems, Incorporated.”

  “Green Systems....” Rade pursed his lips. That was their current prospective employer.

  Interesting.

  “We’ve been given the go ahead to pass through the Gate,” Lui said.

  “Take us through before they change their mind,” Rade said.

  five

  There was a branch of SYD Bank in the adjacent system, so Rade had the Argonaut pass close to the station that housed it. Once in range, he initiated a realtime communication with the AI account manager.

  “This is Chuck, SYD Bank, how can I help you today?” Rade always thought of it as Suck-You-Dry Bank. That, or STD Bank.

  “Rade Galaal here, of Unlimited Universe Consulting Incorporated,” Rade said. “I’m calling in regards to the loan on the United Systems registered vessel Argonaut, Marauder class, registry number 549425. I sent in a reimbursement request from the payroll reserve account three months ago, and haven’t heard anything back. This is the fourth time I’ve sent in the request over the past year. Could you tell when I can expect the money?”

  “Thank you for calling, Mr. Galaal!” the AI responded. “Your business is so very important to us. Let me put you on hold while I look into this matter of utmost importance.”

  Half an hour later Chuck came back on the line. “Thank you for holding, Mr. Galaal. SYD reviewed your request just last week. It was rejected, because the included financials were more than thirty days old.”

  Rade gritted his teeth. “The financials were current at the time of submission. Maybe if it didn’t take you three months to review my request, your bank would realize that. Tell me this isn’t a trick on the part of Suck... SYD to delay giving me any money from my accounts.”

  “It’s certainly not a trick, Mr. Galaal. Thank you for your patience in this matter. Please resubmit a new request package, with up-to-date financials, and we will get back to you as soon as we can.”

  “Look, can you do a guy a favor?” Rade said. “I’ve never missed a monthly payment on my loan. I’m a good customer. And at the end of the day, these are my reserve accounts, and I need access to my money. There’s enough in escrow to pay my crew for the next eight months, if I can get the damn money out!”

  “My apologies, Mr. Galaal,” Chuck the AI said. “But I must ask again that you please resubmit a new request package with up-to-date financials. Please be aware that due to a high backlog of requests, it may take some time to review your package.”

  Rade sighed, then disconnected. He updated the financials on the package and resubmitted the request. He doubted the bank would come through for him. It was more important than ever that he signed on that new client.

  It took four weeks and two Gate jumps to reach Etalon Station in Beta Ursae Majoris system. When they reached the station, Tahoe maneuvered the Argonaut into the geosynchronous orbit specified by the station’s STC, or space traffic control, and then Rade loaded onto the Dragonfly with eight of their female guests, and four of his crew. The remainder would come in the second Dragonfly. Fret meanwhile would stay aboard as part of the first watch; Bax and the combat robots could have cared for the ship well enough in their absence, but Rade had a policy of keeping at least one human crew member aboard at all times.

  “Take us out, Shaw,” Rade ordered.

  Shaw piloted the craft from the Argonaut’s hangar bay and into the void of space. Rade felt the queasiness induced by zero G immediately.

  Shaw fired a gentle burst of thrust, following regulation docking speed, and in twenty minutes the craft neared the station.

  “We’ve received clearance to dock in hangar bay twenty,” Shaw said.

  After landing, Rade waited the several minutes for the bay doors to shut and the external compartment to depressurize.

  “We’re good,” Shaw said.

  “Lower the ramp,” Rade ordered.

  The ramp lowered, and the clamps securing Rade and the others to their seats released.

  Shaw joined Rade in the main cabin, leaving her copilot, Harlequin, in the cockpit.

  Rade stood, and turned toward her. He beckoned toward the opening. “Age before beauty.”

  “Hmph. Beauty before beast. Come on, ladies.” Shaw led the way down the ramp and the women passengers followed her. Their scanty outfits had been replaced by fatigues, and their long flowing locks were pinned into tight buns. And though none of them wore any makeup, they were very easy on the eyes.

  None of them compare to Shaw, though.

  A shorter woman among the lot paused to blow Lui a kiss.

  “Good-bye, my love!” She gave him a doe-eyed, longing look. “I’ll never forget you, my precious chimichanga.”

  “Bye,” Lui said sheepishly.

  Rade glanced at him after the woman had gone. “Chimichanga?”

  “Err, yeah,” Lui quickly slid his gaze down and off to the side.

  “I think it has something to do with him being a foodie,” Manic said.

  “Are we sure Graavian will be able to find the women gainful employment?” Tahoe said. “I’d hate to think after everything we had to go through to free them that they’ll just end up as pleasurers.”

  “Graavian runs many businesses,” Rade said. “The pleasure club is only one of them. The women will have the option to do whatever they like. Hell, he’s even promised to give them temporary room and board if they don’t want to work at all, at least while they wait for their latest month of basic pay to come in.” He glanced at the others aboard the shuttle. “Well, I hear this station has an excellent strip club. Enjoy yourselves.”

  “Strip club? Screw that!” Bender said. “I’m heading for the officers bar. That’s where the real action is! Made to order flesh musicians, here I come! And I mean that in both senses of the word.”

  “I’m with you,” TJ said, joining him.

  “They’ll never let you in,” Manic called after them.

  “Yeah they will,” Bender returned, lifting a golden brooch connected to one of his larger necklaces. “It’s all about the bling, bitch!”

  Rade glanced at the cockpit. “Harlequin, stay with the shuttle. When Dragonfly Two arrives, I want you to watch over both craft.”

  “Yes boss,” Harlequin said. “Though you know I’d much rather go with the others, right?”

  “I know,” Rade said. “But we’re only partially on shore leave here. I’m on official business. And I’d rather have someone I trust in charge of the shuttles, rather than a generic combat robot.”

  “In a sense, I’m a generic combat robot,” the Artificial said.

  “No,” Rade said. “You’ve been with us through thick and thin. You’re not just an ordinary unit. Hell, you died for me once.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Harlequin said.

  Rade nodded. If the Artificial’s AI core hadn’t been backed up before the mission in question, Harlequin would have been lost entirely. While this wasn’t the “true” Harlequin, in the sense that the original Artificial had been left to die on an alien world, it did contain all the memories and personality that had made Harlequin, well, Harlequi
n. At least at the moment of the backup.

  Rade proceeded down the ramp with Tahoe. They left the hangar bay behind and took one of the elevators to the main concourse. Along the way, Rade turned to his friend and said: “Is your wife meeting you here?”

  “No, why would she?”

  “I thought she was on a pleasure cruise in the area?” Rade asked.

  “We had to cancel,” Tahoe replied. He gave Rade an accusing look. “Due to lack of funds.”

  Rade patted his friend sympathetically on the shoulder. “I’m about to remedy our funding situation. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck,” Tahoe said. “You need a miracle.”

  When the doors of the elevator opened, Rade parted ways with his friend. He had no idea what Tahoe planned to do on the station. He didn’t really want to know. What a married man did while he was aboard a pleasure-themed space station was his business.

  Rade’s senses were assaulted by the sights and sounds of kiosks and fast food outlets. Digital overlays crowded his vision, thanks to the shared augmented reality programs the various purveyors beamed his way when he stepped within range of their outreach sensors. Rade dismissed the virtual images as quickly as they arrived, and after a while became so sick of the intrusions that he disabled the shared capability entirely. The station seemed much more austere without them, but at least he had some peace.

  He reached the enlisted bar and gave the hostess his reservation. The Artificial in question appeared to be a woman in a black cocktail dress, showing ample cleavage. It looked completely lifelike, and the only way he knew it was an Artificial was because of the rotating virtual symbol his Implant overlaid above the woman’s head. He’d programmed his Implant to automatically read the public profiles of anyone in range, and to display that symbol if the profile indicated the person was Artificial.

  “Has my guest arrived yet?” Rade asked.

  “Not yet, sir,” the hostess told him in a sultry voice.

  Rade bit back his usual response to “sir.”

  “Arnold will show you to your seat,” the hostess said.

  A robot appeared momentarily. This one reminded Rade of an over-sized trashcan on treads, with a small extended visor on top serving as the head. The HLEDs on that visor offered a rough digital representation of a face: eyebrow lines, two green dots for eyes, nose line, mouth line. The job of the hostess was to reel in the customers with its looks, and now that that part was done, the cheaper robots could take over.

  The trashcan escorted Rade to one of the seats. “Would you like to order anything?” A disembodied voice came from somewhere in the center of the trashcan.

  “Yeah,” Rade said. “I’ll have a mojito. And a side order of silence.”

  The two digital lines on the visor that represented the brows curved outward; Rade guessed that was supposed to indicate confusion. “A side order of silence?”

  “That means do not disturb.”

  “I understand, sir.” The robot wheeled about and departed.

  His drink arrived a moment later, served by a flying drone with a tray attached to the top. Rade accepted the cocktail and took a sip.

  “How is it, sir?” the floating tray asked.

  “Fantastic.” He waved the robot away and then settled himself in for the wait.

  He pulled up Green Systems on his Implant and navigated to their InterGalNet site on the VR web. He had viewed it often during the past few days. The site touted Green Systems as an industrial manufacturer that focused on Aerospace and Defense, Engineering and Industrial Products, and Metals. A quick search of the trademark office told him the company owned several patents, with at least four related to the streamlined production of magnesium ion batteries, including a means to optimize the ion distribution of the substrates and thus triple the charge capacity. Considering those types of batteries were basically used in every robot in existence, those patents alone would have made the company worth billions.

  Movement drew his attention away from the virtual overlay. Someone had sat down at the table, though the newcomer’s face was currently obscured by the VR browser. Rade dismissed it and his breath caught.

  Seated before him was a woman of extreme beauty. Shaw might be cute as hell, but this woman was in an entirely different league. Flawless skin, chiseled cheekbones, perfectly aligned features. Her long dark hair reached to the middle of her back. She wore tight-fitting black fatigues that accentuated her breasts, with a small circular gap in the fabric above the solar plexus that showcased a very small amount of cleavage, not enough to be offensive but just enough to tease.

  She was far too perfect to be real.

  Sure enough, a floating icon above her head indicated an Artificial. He tried to think of her as an “it,” but that didn’t work. With some Artificials he could do it. Some, like Harlequin and this woman, he could not.

  “I thought I told the hostess I didn’t want to be disturbed,” Rade said. “I don’t have the time, nor the money, nor even the interest, to entertain a flesh musician.”

  She smiled fleetingly, but remained seated, merely staring at him.

  Rade had a sudden worry. “Don’t tell me you’re my contact from Green Systems.”

  “I’m your contact from Green Systems...” she said.

  Shit. He took a long sip of his drink.

  “Just kidding!” The woman stood. “I have the wrong table.” She made to go, but then turned around and said “Gotcha!” before sitting back down again.

  Rade shook his head.

  Damn Artificials.

  Though if he was honest with himself, the behavior reminded him of something Shaw would do.

  “I find my beauty puts people on the defensive, Mr. Galaal,” the woman explained. “It forces me to find creative ways to defuse that tension.”

  “I see,” Rade told her. He was just glad she wasn’t making a big deal over him confusing her with a flesh musician.

  “I am indeed your contact,” she said, extending one hand. “Emilia Bounty at your service. CTO of Green Systems.”

  “Rade Galaal.” He shook her hand. “I hope you’ll excuse my earlier comment.”

  “No need to apologize. It’s understandable in a place like this.”

  “Bounty?” Rade said. “That’s a unique last name. Don’t think I’ve ever met a Bounty before.” Artificials certainly liked to take liberties with their names.

  “Never?” she said. “Well, I suppose you’re familiar enough with the word itself. Being a bounty hunter and all.”

  “We only hunt bounties when other work is slow,” Rade said.

  “Mercenary work, you mean?”

  “I prefer the term security consulting,” Rade said. “So, I hope you don’t think this is rude, but, do you mind if we dispense with the smalltalk and get down to business? I’m a bit pressed for time.” While not really true, throwing that phrase out early in the conversation usually helped prod the client into business mode. “Your message was lacking a few details, to say the least. What can Unlimited Universe do for you?”

  “Unlimited Universe Security Consulting Incorporated,” the woman said. “In business for five years. In possession of one Marauder class starship. Your team, your ‘Argonauts’ as your site calls them, consists of eight human employees, with another three available on call as necessary, eight robots, and one Artificial. The customer satisfaction rating on Security Nation is four and a half stars out of five for your company. You had a fairly long streak of four and five star review ratings, until the scathing one star left by your latest employer. Apparently you destroyed the entire west wing of his palace.”

  “I’m sure you would know,” Rade said. “Considering that you helped us smuggle the human prisoners he was trafficking out of the system. Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “You’re very welcome,” she said.

  “How did you know we were there?”

  She smiled widely. “I keep myself very well informed of galactic happenings that co
ncern me.”

  “I see,” Rade replied. “You’ve got a few hackers, you’re saying?”

  She continued that enigmatic smile.

  “So you know all about my team,” Rade said. “I know nothing of yours. Nor what you want.”

  “My vessel, the Amytis, will be arriving in a few days,” she said.

  “What sort of vessel is it?”

  “It’s a transport, Ptolemy class,” she said.

  “That type of ship has no armaments, correct?”

  “That’s right,” the woman said. “We’ll need your Argonaut to provide escort. You see, we’ll be traveling through Sino-Korean space. In an area that has seen an upswing in privateer activity of late.”

  Rade frowned. “While my ship can hold its own against one or two privateers, if we face anything more than that, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  She nodded. “Understood. However, I believe it’s better if only one ship provides escort. I want to keep a low profile. Let our attackers think that whatever we are carrying isn’t valuable enough to justify hiring a small army of ships. If I employ more mercenaries, excuse me, security consultants, to escort us, we’ll draw the privateers like bees to honey.”

  Rade furrowed his brow. “You mean bears to honey?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “I think.”

  “What sort of cargo are you hauling into Sino-Korean space?” Rade asked.

  “I am not comfortable revealing that information at the moment,” she said. “Though rest assured, it is nothing illegal.”

  “You’ll have to share your manifest with the Gate Authority whenever we make a jump,” Rade said. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “I do,” she replied. “I’m not planning on revealing our real cargo to them, either.”

  Rade sat back. He extended his noise canceler around her. “You know that’s illegal, right?”

  “Oh please, Mr. Galaal. You alter your manifest and ship registration information all the time.”

  “Yes, but it’s still illegal,” Rade said. “And it’s going to cost you more to employ my services. An extra two thousand.”