“Greetings, Captain,” the pre-recorded voice said. “I am Vice Director Silva, and I have important information for you.”
Brooks felt his heart nearly skip a beat. He knew who Silva was – one of the leading members of Sapient Union intelligence.
Brooks had never seen the man before; his height could not be told from the screen, but his face was broad and average, creased with deep lines, his hair a distinguished silver. He did not seem like he’d stand out in any situation – certainly a plus in his line of work.
“We have concluded our study of the data and hardware you recovered from the colony of New Vitriol. From it, we were able to determine several key details.
“The mercenary going by the name Hoc Rem is now under the alias of Joh Dak – and we have strong evidence that he is currently in Gohhi.”
The man’s face clenched, his next words delivered in the same calm, precise manner, but a sense of displeasure entered into them, even if vaguely. “While we have assets in the system, none are in a position to pursue Rem at this time. In addition, we have evidence that the man’s life is in danger. He is connected to several deeply-embedded criminal enterprises on the behalf of his masters, and he has made many enemies among the locals. We are unsure of the precise nature of the threat against him, but have a high confidence that an attack against his person will be launched soon. Even if Rem survives, he will flee, and we will lose a golden opportunity.”
Silva paused, nodding towards Brooks. “You are given clearance to send in a Response Team to locate Rem. If possible, you are to bring him in – alive. We will not permit him to go unpunished, but you may tell him that we are willing to commute his sentence – and protect him from his enemies. With any luck, this will be enough to get him to come willingly.”
Brooks felt a roil of emotions. Hoc Rem had bloodily killed in front of Brooks’s eyes, and tried to kill him and members of his crew in several different ways during their time on New Vitriol.
Only luck had prevented that. The man was dangerous.
Silva had a few final words.
“Under no conditions are your personnel to engage in open conflict. The repercussions would be more damaging than they are worth for Rem’s information. We have a team inbound who will assist in this, with cooperation from some elements of Gohhi’s true power structure – including an information broker who goes under the name of Vermillion Dawn. As time is critical, we will need to know his location if we are to stand a chance of taking him alive.”
The man leaned back in his chair. “I have heard that you are capable, Captain Brooks. I hope it to be true.”
The message ended, and Brooks leaned back to consider his plan of action.
There was much that Silva had not said – such as who it was that Hoc Rem was working for, or even what form of criminal enterprises he might be involved with. There were thousands of factions in Gohhi, ranging across the political spectrum, and across every known religion and philosophical system. Among many were extremists who might be willing to kill a man like Rem if he crossed them.
And some of whom would want to kill him, as well, Brooks knew. His history with the place had been from many different angles, and sometimes it had been messy.
But he felt a genuine sense of excitement, as well. Gohhi was a place that was ever in flux with time, and many things would be different from what he had known. But he still knew how her heart worked; the way power shifted and flowed, the ways the money moved, and the ways a life might be taken. Most importantly, he knew what sort of people would know all the names of the current players.
He was going to be busy.
----------------------------------------
“Captain Brooks, you and your vessel are welcome,” the sweating, bloated man said.
His name was Gedhen Hullmus, Acting President of the Human Merchant Welcoming Committee, as he had already said several times. The man seemed to relish his title with a fervor that Brooks found disconcerting.
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“Thank you,” he told the man.
The formal introductions and welcoming had become an overbearing tradition in Gohhi, where the most valued trade partners were granted extreme courtesy, while being charged inordinate fees that Brooks knew Ham Sulp suffered conniptions over.
It wasn’t that the fees couldn’t be talked down, of course. But the Gohhians always found new, inventive ways to charge a fee or fine or service charge or . . . something. It was complex enough that Dr. Y had once told him that he believed they had several powerful AIs actively working on developing them constantly.
“We are honored to be here,” he continued. “And I hope that the friendship between the Sapient Union and the Gohhi Independent Trading Platforms will continue indefinitely.”
Hullmus’s eyes glittered. “Of course, of course, don’t we all hope for that? Of course we do! Now, Captain, as Acting President of the Human Merchant Welcoming Committee, I am also able to present you with some fantastic special deals for your docking fees-“
“We have our requirements on here,” Brooks said, offering a data card. He’d already duplicated and sent it to the Gohhi automated systems in physical card form. The data cards were laser-carved with the data, unchangeable, as at times digital data had been found to be altered to bump up fees and rates.
He offered the card, and Hullmus now tried to stall, not wanting to take it, because once he did it would be official.
But Brooks pressed, politely, and eventually the man took the card, his anger evident behind a still-friendly smile.
Brooks was still offering generous terms, however, especially skewed towards the benefit of Hullmus and his patrons. That would help it all move smoothly, and with the repairs they required and the medical needs of their wounded, he did not want to risk them twisting his arm by holding up supply shipments or something similar.
Of course, they would anyway, but not nearly as hard if their eyes were already sparkling with unexpected profits . . .
“Well, Captain, never have I been as happy to be the Acting President of the Human Merchant Welcoming Committee, as today was a most wonderful day – to meet a living legend! Please, allow me to commemorate the occasion with a holograph. I am sure that copies will sell quite handsomely, and I would be happy to share the profits-“
“No,” Brooks said, drawing a line. His likeness was not going to be used for any sales.
“Of course, of course, but this way, we do have documents for you to sign, and our Human Arts and Entertainment Council – of which I am Elected Representative – would love to introduce you to several opportunities . . .”
Damn.
Brooks followed the man into the next room, signing each document with his Captain’s code, carefully scanning each one. He caught and pointed out a few minor mistakes that would have raised their fees by a small but noticeable margin, then finally signed.
He’d hoped this would be the end, but Hullmus, without pause, began to regale him with an offering of their arts and cultural events.
Most of them were far from his interests – musical events by perfect holographic singers and dancers with proportions and features impossible on a real person, movies whose best thesis seemed to be the power of childhood friendship, and other such trivialities.
He declined, but the man had one last card to play.
“Also, as part of our Outward-Reach Arts Program to bring in non-human artists to comment on humanity, we have a special deal with the Qhenber Theatre Troupe, presenting their latest smash-hit Ussa and Usser: A Tragedy of Ancient Earth.”
Brooks paused. He’d actually heard of the Qhenber Troupe. They were a prestigious group, and the play of Ussa and Usser had been garnering a lot of attention.
Not all of it good – as great as many of the Qlerning playwrights were – there was always going to be a controversy about making so serious a play about another species’s history.
“. . . could even do a special performance solely for your crew, if you would so wish. For only a nominal fee we could even-“
“We’ll accept,” Brooks said. “Send my information to the Qhenber Troupe and ask them to contact me. Tell them I want them to perform Ussa and Usser on board the Craton.”
“I am certain they will be deeply honored, Captain. If you seek other entertainment beyond them, however, there are several pleasure guilds who-“
“That will not be necessary,” Brooks cut him off harshly. “Now, as to the work we need-“
“Ah, yes!” Hullmus exclaimed. “Conveniently, I am an acting chair on the Construction Guild!” He bowed again, grinning. “In the capacity of Third Chair With Honors, Twice-Crowned Richest Guild Member, may I offer my services in this regard.”
“How very convenient,” Brooks replied dryly. “I forwarded data on the work needed to your people, I believe.”
“Which was received most solemnly,” the man said, his mirth replaced with an equally-fake seriousness. “Shall we begin negotiations?”
“Such negotiations will be handled by my Chief Engineer Cutter, as he is most familiar with the work required,” Brooks said.
The man’s face faltered, and Brooks knew what he was thinking.
“Here he comes,” Brooks said, as the Beetle-Slug entered the room.
He suppressed a smile at the man’s concern.
An alien mind possessing a flawless memory and ability to calculate numbers easily that even a human auteur would struggle with was not an easy negotiator.
“Greetings,” Cutter said. “I have prepared lists of work broken in hour ranges, difficulty of labor, locations and team sizes – adjusted for human norms. Along with current costs of all such resources and fees associated with procurement and transfer.”
Hullman swallowed. “Well, of course. Though you know that prices can fluctuate on a dime-“
“Considered,” Cutter said. “Prices in list adjust on the fly, checking commodity prices three times per second to ensure reasonable accuracy. Shall we . . . negotiate?”
Brooks stepped back. “I will leave you two to your work.”