Stranded on Haven Page 7

  “Yet I too will become one of you. I want you to have access to all the resources of Adventurer. For instance, she contains classrooms with over a thousand comp terminals linked to the main comp and thousands of virtual reality programs capable of teaching an amazing array of skills and knowledge. She even contains over a thousand tablet computers like those given to your leaders. These are less advanced, but are more adaptable to Adventurer’s resources.

  “The original colonists have removed much of the equipment aboard her; but to my untrained eye, it appears that much that would be useful remains.

  “So, my proposal had to include three things: first, it had to give you access to the resources aboard Adventurer. They are your property, after all. Second, it had to include security for myself, Startrader, Adventurer, and the people of Haven.” I smiled. “And third, it had to provide me with a way to make a living on Haven. I think I’ve devised a way to do all that.

  “I recommend that Adventurer be declared an international university, under the authority of this Council, open to students from all the nations. Tuitions can be charged to cover the expenses of operating the school. There is plenty of room to house an entire university on board Adventurer, including dorms and meal facilities.

  “You, the Council,” I continued, “would have total control, with the single exception that there will be no training in shuttle piloting, at least for a while. But if a student requests information on building cannons, or bombs, or some such, those would be on a restricted list and require my approval. I would grant that approval only with the consent of this Council. In other words, no one will learn to make large-scale weapons without the Council’s knowledge and consent.

  “So, where do I come into all this? Well, I certainly would have no business intruding into the operation of a university. No, there’s only one function I could provide: transportation.

  “Adventurer still carries four cargo lifters, ground-to-space shuttles. She originally carried six, but according to the comp, one was destroyed in an accident. There is no record of what happened to the other one. She also carried two lifeboats and a Captain’s Gig. Lifeboats, as you can imagine are for emergencies, and contain medical treatment facilities, though I expect almost all of the medicines will have lost their potency. They would be difficult to reconfigure, if that is even possible or desirable. The gig is a smaller, more luxurious shuttle capable of carrying twelve people. If you wish, it can become VIP transportation. According to Adventurer’s comp, the work boats can be fitted to haul between 50 and 100 passengers, depending upon the boat’s size. The comp contains instructions and blueprints for this conversion.

  “Now, Startrader is carrying 36 robots, all trained pilots. What I propose is that you convert the workboats to passenger configurations, and I will provide robot pilots, for a per-trip fee. I will also provide pilots for the two lifeboats at no cost. I will assume responsibility for the fueling of the boats, if necessary.

  “I will also be able to provide resupply services, using Startrader’s cargo lifters. Most of Adventurer’s food supplies are exhausted, or would be dangerous to consume, since they may have defrosted and then refrozen when the power ran out.

  I took a deep breath. “There is another, perhaps cheaper option. You can build a landing cradle and bring Adventurer to ground. Besides the political considerations, though, don’t forget that as soon as you bring her down here, she will start to deteriorate. That will occur much more slowly in space.

  “At any rate, gentles, know that this Council has much more to do than be responsible for a small International Zone; Adventurer is alive, and is at your disposal, and your order.

  “A written copy of my proposal for each of you is available at the back of the room. I hope that you will review it carefully, and discuss it with the leaders of your nations.

  “Thank you.”

  I’m not sure anyone heard the rest of the speeches. They were busy trying to shout at me, curse me, or demand information. I fled to my office.

  Chapter 4

  The heads of state had taken my semi-serious comment seriously. All twelve of my 'assistants' were young, attractive, and female. I had also been assured that all of them were skilled radio and telephone operators, and three of them could take dictation using the new 'shorthand' system someone had rediscovered a few years ago.

  This was more important than it sounded. The telephone networks were just now spreading across the nations, and a bewildering array of companies, equipment, and standards had arisen. Electricity was known, of course, but was expensive to produce, requiring huge amounts of coal to operate the steam boilers to run the generators. There was also apparently some problem with the distribution; there seemed to be severe limits on the range over which it could be provided without being “boosted” by additional generators. I hoped that some of the information I could provide might include a solution. Radio, of course, had its own limitations, with reception problems, messages overlapping or being eavesdropped, etc. Telegraph was even worse; slow, and every operator on the line, and anyone who could climb a pole could eavesdrop. So, written messages delivered by mail or by messenger were the normal way of doing business.

  I told the women to work out their own schedule, but that I would want at least two on duty all 23.74 hours per day, and that the two must be from different countries. Even with all my security, I didn't want any of them able to prowl around alone or in pairs at night. I particularly didn't want the two Cellians on the same shift; but I'd take care of that once they set up the schedule.

  After a brief introductory speech in the outer office, I went into my office and called each girl in to get acquainted.

  I'd half expected the two Cellians to be tall, muscular, grim-faced Femme Fatales dressed in black, slinking around with guns in their bosoms and knives strapped to their legs. But no, Len seemed to have taken me at my word. He must have scoured Cellia to find two such agents.

  Giselle Corday was a voluptuous blonde with large breasts and clothing designed to display them. She had a breathy, sexy, alto voice, and a seductive manner. She did everything but a striptease to let me know she had fallen madly in love with me at first sight. After two years in space, I was vulnerable, too. But I kept seeing Len in the shadows, leering. Giselle babbled at lot and seemed a real airhead. I had to remind myself that Len wouldn't have an airhead in his Secret Police.

  Heidi Bauer was much more ladylike than Giselle, taller, slimmer, and flat-out beautiful.

  “Beautiful” is not a word I use lightly. It doesn't mean “pretty”, or “sexy”. It means her face displayed the classic, flawless beauty that would be impressive on a masterwork of painting or sculpture, and the type of beauty that would permit that statue or painting to draw crowds at exhibitions. Her hair was medium length, expertly styled, and ravens wing black, creating a startling contrast with her bright blue eyes. Her regular features and flawless, creamy complexion completed the picture, and made it difficult to tear your eyes from her face.

  Her body was trim, her breasts medium sized, smaller than Giselle's. Don't get me wrong; that was a good thing. Where Giselle's whole persona screamed “sexy,” Heidi's quietly proclaimed “lady.” From her attractive but not extreme hairstyle to her conservative but stylish clothing, to her prim manner, Heidi left no doubt she had what us slum rats used to call “class.”

  I was mentally bemoaning the fact that this gorgeous creature was a hardened killer when, after a quick glance around the office, she jumped to her feet and hurried to an ornate grate in the wall. I knew that grate concealed a listening tube. She examined it, nodded in satisfaction, and crossed to a decoration beneath a window that also concealed a listening tube. She hurried back to her chair.

  “I have little time, Captain. I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve been sent here to seduce you and to kidnap you in connection with a commando raid next week. And I must convince you that I wish only to desert Cellia and seek asylum with you.”

  I was sho
cked. “With me?”

  She nodded. Taking a deep breath, she began, “Captain, at the age of twelve the Maximum Leader decided I was pretty enough. He tore me from my family, and enrolled me in agent training. I learned to act like a lady, to lie convincingly, to spy, to fight, and yes, to kill. My parents were hostages to my obedience. But last year, my parents were killed in a rail accident. I think the Leader now considers me a risk. During my last mission, I’m sure he leaked my identity. Still, I managed to escape.

  “I suspect that since then, the Leader has been looking for a suicide mission to send me on. I think Giselle has orders to see to it that I do not survive this mission.

  “Until now, I have had no options. I could not defect; none of the other nations would accept me or trust me. But you are not involved in the nations’ empire building. You merely want to live in peace and trade. And I can help you with that. I have an excellent memory, Captain, and can identify many of the nations’ agents by sight. And since my life will literally be in your hands, you will have an ‘assistant’ you can trust.”

  I was surprised that Len would have an agent take this tack. “I see,” I replied sardonically, “Giselle tries to worm her way into my bed, and you cover me the rest of the time.”

  She shook her head, unsmiling. “I understand your suspicion, Captain. So I will merely tell you that there is a twenty-man commando working its way through the swamps as we speak. The attack is currently scheduled for 2030 hours on next Thirdday, when Cellia has command of the security team. An airship with a black cover over its gasbag will leave a ship off the coast and arrive at the compound at 2100. We are to board, and the airship will head for the nearest town in New Home, where the cover will be stripped off, and we will become a regularly scheduled passenger airship. The flight is booked up, of course, and all the passengers are Cellian military.

  “The Leader realizes that the raiding party may not be able to make it through the swamps by then, so alternative times have also been selected.” She shrugged those magnificent shoulders. “If there are changes, I will try to let you know. If I ask you to join me for a walk, it will probably mean I have information for you. I hope you will believe at least enough to prepare. I will try to protect you, and may have to kill Giselle. I know you don’t trust me, Captain, but I’m desperate, and you are my only hope for a relatively normal life. And don’t forget, Captain. You are surrounded by the agents of six nations. But you have no one on Haven loyal to you. Someone like me could be very useful to you.” Without another word, she rose and walked out, while I sat openmouthed.

  It was a shame, in a way. Heidi probably could have succeeded in seducing me, if Len hadn't been so ham-handed. She impressed me considerably, and I really wished I could believe her story. But it was painfully obvious that the women had been recruited for their looks, and sent here with orders to seduce me, or else. I've got the usual amount of male ego, but I wasn't interested in being the alternative to an “or else”. Instead of making me want to tear her clothes off, Heidi made me mourn the fact that her story was almost certainly a “cover.” Giselle just made me wish I were a vid producer. Especially a porn vid producer.

  The New Homers were much less obvious about it. Andrea Parelli was a cheerful smiling young woman who openly admitted to being a Lieutenant in New Home Intelligence. “This is my first field assignment, sire. I guess Duke Richard didn't have many agents that can take shorthand.” Andrea was dark-haired, and the effect was accentuated by her olive complexion. Her body seemed trim and athletic. Her dress was rather low-cut, and her body language suggested she was a bit embarrassed by it. But she was determined to carry on. Her face was open, and she reminded me of the college girls I used to watch hurry past my neighborhood on Trask.

  Carla Andros had apparently decided that most of the others would be doing their best to seduce me; so instead of competing, she would make herself a challenge. Either that or she didn't like men. At least that's what I told myself.

  Carla was tall, nearly as tall as I was in those strange shoes with the elevated heels they all wore. She was a bit on the thin side, and rather small-breasted, I thought. It was hard to be sure, because her clothing was high-necked, loose fitting, and severe in style. Just about as severe as the bun into which she pulled her brown hair. She also wore a strange contraption that held panes of glass in front of her eyes. I assumed they were designed to help compensate for poor vision, though I thought all secret agents had perfect eyesight. Carla was all business; the most I could get out of her was a thin half-smile. I quickly got tired of trying, and moved on to the next woman.

  The Cornwells were next up. Paula Cordo's eyes were unusual. They seemed slightly slanted. But they lent her a touch of the exotic that enhanced her otherwise regular-pretty-girl attractiveness. Paula's body was well-curved and somewhat voluptuous, but made me want to warn her to watch her weight. I didn't of course; I'm not quite as dumb as I look. I got the feeling that Paula had made no particular effort to enhance her appearance for our first meeting. She wore no makeup that I could see, and she wore a simple shirt-and-skirt outfit, and a similarly simple hairstyle. She also made no attempt to convince me I was the man of her dreams.

  Tanya Reyes was the perfect stereotype of the freckled, tanned farm girl. Like Paula, she seemed to tend toward overweight, but her mannerisms were largely masculine; she walked like a man, sat like a man, and was one of only two of the women who wore trousers instead of skirts. Her hands were rough and calloused. Apparently she wasn't long from the farm, and I got the impression she longed to return to it. Tanya was was a quiet, serious woman, who seemed almost reluctant to be here. I wasn't sure what made President Tyree think Tanya would appeal to me; Oh, physically she was attractive enough, if your tastes ran to the voluptuous. But she rarely even looked me in the face, much less tried to seduce me, and I quickly gave up trying to draw her out of her introversion.

  Ellie Fergson came in like a whirlwind, striding into the office and sliding into her chair without waiting for an invitation. She seemed slightly older than the others, but she was a type that attracted me: short, cute, and well curved. Her hair was cut short and exposed her ears, which gave her an elfin look. I wanted to take her into my lap and cuddle her, but that impulse lasted only a moment. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

  “I'm Ellie Fergson from Westin, and we don't have much time,” she began, as though we were already into the middle of a conversation. “This is probably the only time we can be sure nobody's listening in, since everybody's outside. Now,” she continued, “You were pretty smart to get us all where you could watch us, but be careful.”

  She took a deep breath, and the movement of her chest momentarily distracted me. She noticed, and smiled slightly, straightening and pushing it out. “Okay,” she began, “You know that the most direct and immediate threat is from the Cellians. Len isn't very subtle, is he? Watch out for those women,” she continued without waiting for an answer. “Giselle Corday presents herself as an airheaded, sex-obsessed bimbo, but she's actually one of Len's top assassins.” She shrugged, and I tried to ignore the distraction. She grinned. “After all, men tend to drop their caution with their pants.

  “And Heidi's no better,” Ellie continued. “That charm and ladylike act can be disarming. Nobody expects a well-dressed lady to suddenly whip a razor out of her designer dress and slash their throat.”

  I must have reacted, because the grin was back. “What's the matter, sire? The harem idea not working out like you'd hoped?”

  “No, I…uh, hey! That was a joke!” I protested, but her expression was skeptical.

  “Right,” she continued. “The Cellians are the most obvious threat, but maybe not the most serious. Duke Richard is intelligent, ruthless, totally devoted to the King, and has twice as many agents here as the rest of us.”

  I must have looked startled, because she smiled and nodded as she continued. “East Brent likes to loudly proclaim its independence from New Home, and ant
i-New Home sentiment is growing there, but the government is still firmly in New Home's pocket. East Brent doesn't have its own secret police or intelligence service. Instead, good ol’ Duke Richard provides those ‘services’. He just recruits in East Brent to make sure the agents have the proper accent.

  “I wouldn't worry too much about the Cornwells,” Ellie continued. “They're proud of being considered one of the 'major' countries, but the truth is they're pretty second-rate. They're rural, mostly agricultural, and peaceful. They're here because they want to know what Cellia and New Home are up to, and because they didn't want to be left out.” the smile flared again. “They probably won't be joining your harem; Cornwell is pretty straight-laced.”

  “That just leaves us and the Refugers.” She sighed. “They can be a little hard to take sometimes,” she continued, “but we tend to work with Refugers quite a bit. Neither of us want to be boss, we just want to be left alone to grow our nations. We've talked with them, and like us, they think your presence here will be a great thing for Haven, if we can keep you alive.

  “Now,” she concluded, “I've got to go. I can't be here much longer than any of the others, or they'll start getting suspicious. You'll talk to Jess next, of course, but make sure you take the Refugers last. Jess and I will try to sneak back, so we can talk. We won't have much time, though, before the others get back to their quarters and uncork the listening tubes.”

  Then she simply got up and swept out of the room. I'd barely gotten in a word. Ellie Fergson was like a force of nature. I'd never met anyone like her.

  I was almost afraid to bring in the next woman, Jess Sanci. I needn't have worried, though. Jess proclaimed herself honored to meet a "spaceman" and was obviously excited about the wonderful things I was going to bring to Haven. She knew I'd already talked to Ellie, so she readily admitted she wasn't really an “office type”. “I'm really a pilot,” she said. “I can fly anything from a glider to the latest powered fighter we're testing. Work on 'em, too,” she added proudly. She flushed. “I tried to look at that little lander of yours, the 'gig'?” I nodded and she continued, “well, one of the robots ran me off, but I sure would like to get a look at that thing.”