Chapter 3: What’s in the box?
The Swindler rocketed through hyperspace, making minute course adjustments to avoid navigational hazards. Riordan reclined on the couch on the rec deck, a half-empty bottle of cheap whisky, dangled from his hand. The far wall of the rec room was flat and painted stark white. A small 2-D projector mounted to the ceiling shined images on the screen. It was an old war movie about the last battle of the Insurrection and the fall of the UCIS. The last scene in the movie was playing, the battle between the UCIS Stardancer and the FRS Indomitable. The Stardancer was out of ammunition, assault shuttles, and ordinance, and civilian ships were still trying to flee the area.
The FRS were known for their lack of distinction between evacuating civilian vessels and military craft during a battle. To buy the civilians the time they needed to evacuate, Captain Jameson flooded the interior of his ship with deuterium fuel and induced a polarity variance between the sinistral and dextral hyperspace pulse capacitor coil assemblies. Just as the Stardancer impacted the Indomitable, it jumped to hyperspace. Everything within several thousand meters of both vessels disappeared in a burst of Hawking radiation and bright white light.
Riordan carefully capped the bottle of amber fluid and set it on the floor. He toggled the control on the arm of the couch, and the projector shut off. Riordan felt a change in the ship and the world flipped upside down for a moment. Feeling extra paranoid, Riordan programmed a few extra jumps into the Swindler’s course to ensure his security. He had three bodies in the shielded cargo area concealed beneath the floor of the deep freezer, and a mysterious container concealed in his hold. He hid them there and then sprayed water a few inches deep on the floor, mixing in some debris to make it look like it hadn’t been defrosted in a long time. He was alarmed when the insurance agent had inquired about the container, but he’d been playing this game long enough to keep his poker face up. Shielded containers were either used to protect specialized equipment or something illicit. Nothing else was asked for by serial number. If it wasn’t in his cargo bay, it was drifting in space, or taken by the pirates. It was entirely plausible that a medical device was inside the container, but then again, it could just as easily be something else.
***
"What is the difficulty, leftenant?" Captain Shepherd asked sharply from her chair overlooking the bridge. Her piercing blue eyes glinted like cometary ice chips.
"Ma'am, the ship keeps dropping out of hyperspace and then back in a few seconds later," the young female leftenant replied. "It's confusing our sensors' ability to locate our tracking device."
"Do you think he knows about the tracker?" Shepherd asked.
"I think he would have deactivated it, had he found it. His dossier says he used to be a military transport pilot until ten years ago, pre court-martial separation. Nothing in his file indicates any clandestine service or intelligence training," the leftenant replied.
"Where does his flight plan say he is going, leftenant?" Shepherd asked.
"He has deliveries to make in the Victoria system tomorrow and the Callumn system a few days after," the leftenant responded.
Captain Shepherd stared thoughtfully at the viewer as the tracking marker disappeared from the screen once again. She stood and paced the length of the bridge before looking over the leftenant's shoulder at the detailed tracking display.
"Crafty bastard. I'm sick of this game of 'chase the weasel.' Set course for the Callumn system. Get me a report detailing all known associates of Atticus Riordan, highest priority. I'll be in my quarters," Shepherd said, heading for the ladder to the lower decks.
The young leftenant looked over at the midshipman staffing the helm, "What's a weasel?"
***
Riordan stood over the mysterious case, staring down at the number pad and the small display screen. He had removed the case from the shipping container. It sat on the deck, mocking him with its mute reticence. He looked towards the deep freezer. Other than the party that hired him to steal it, the only people that would have known the access code are frozen solid. He glanced at the tools scattered around the case. The crowbar didn't work; the seam where the lid met the box was machined too finely. The brute force code-cracker wouldn't interface with the electronics in the lid to run through possible combinations to open the case. The reciprocating saw went through three blades before he gave up. He ruled out the plasma torch as it might damage the contents, whatever they are.
He wracked his brain trying to think what else he had that might open the case. ‘I could use the hydraulic press, squish it from the corners and try to pop the lid that way,’ he thought, ‘but the case was built for strength.’ He only had one choice now, his buddy Jaisen Folyn, the only person he knew that could get into this case. There was one problem, Jaisen married a doctor and went legitimate five years ago after their last job. He now worked as a high-end locksmith and security specialist on Vesta Station in the Callumn system. Since he had deliveries there, it was convenient.
***
"…So, there we were, standing in the middle of the cargo bay, wearing nothing but our safety harnesses and a smile! You should have seen the inspector's faces!" Riordan said with a hearty laugh.
"He's exaggerating, Hun," Jaisen assured his wife.
"Oh, I doubt that. I know you," Glori said to her husband with a laugh. The trio was sitting at a table in one of the nicer eateries at the orbital station that services Callumn Prime. Dinner came and went. They were finishing up with drinks before they called it a night.
"It's always nice to meet a colleague of Jaisen's, but if you will excuse me, I need to utilize the facilities before we leave," Glori, resplendent in a black gown that set her dark brown skin aglow, stood and headed toward the back of the establishment.
"Leave? Already?" Jaisen asked.
"I have an early shift," she replied over her shoulder.
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Jaisen watched her hips sway as she walked away. He turned to Riordan, his face suddenly stony. "Why are you here, Atticus?" Jaisen hissed at him.
"What makes you think I'm here for something? I was in the system and stopped by. Can't I look up an old friend?" Riordan scoffed.
"What makes me…?" Jaisen started counting on his fingers, "Trinity, Haven, Victoria; almost got shot that time! Galorndan; spent a week in lock-up! The time in the Leshan asteroid belt; should I go on?"
Riordan leaned back in the luxuriously padded booth and raised his almost empty glass to a nearby server. "I responded to a distress call a few days ago. It was a cargo ship ferrying medical supplies to Besitera. Pirate attack. I tried to help," Riordan shrugged and polished off the last of his drink.
"And?" Jaisen inquired.
"I salvaged what I could," Riordan said.
"You mean you kept some. What of the crew?" Jaisen asked, looking around. Riordan responded with a negative shake of his head.
"Atticus, I'm married. I have a good job now. I don't do that stuff anymore. You shouldn't have come," Jaisen finished as his wife approached.
"Shouldn't have what, Jaisen?" she asked sweetly.
"Shouldn't have stayed up so late, I have an early departure window tomorrow," Riordan answered for him, "It was nice to finally meet you, Glori."
***
Riordan let the door request go unanswered three times before he opened the outer airlock door. Jaisen was dressed in an old army coat and a watch cap. He was carrying a well-used duffel bag.
"Could you look any more suspicious? You look like a crook from an old holo-vid," Riordan said with a laugh.
"Yeah?" Jaisen replied, eyeing Riordan up and down, "You look like some roguish smuggler from an old 2-D sci-fi flick. Permission to come aboard?"
Riordan stepped back and waved Jaisen aboard with a flourish of his hand. Riordan secured the airlock door with a length of heavy chain. Just in case. Jaisen cracked open the door to the freezer and looked around.
"How is the shielded storage I installed for you working out?"
"Great! That's where I hide the bodies," Riordan said, glancing in that direction.
"Sure. What do you need me to open? That is why you came to me," Jaisen said.
Riordan led him over to the case concealed under a tarp behind some pallets. Jaisen whistled as Riordan removed the gray carbon fiber lid concealing the shiny surface.
"This is some top-of-the-line tech, Atticus," Jaisen said, "You salvaged this from a cargo ship ferrying medical supplies?"
"Not exactly. It was brought onto my ship and left in the airlock when I was trying to rescue survivors," Riordan replied.
"How come you weren't able to rescue any?" Jaisen asked as he removed equipment from his duffel bag.
"Deus vult," Riordan says, shaking his head, "They didn't get the airlock sealed in time," he left out the part about murder.
“That’s rough, man. I’m sorry,” Jaisen said. He spent a few minutes examining the container from every angle. He ran some scans. The model of scanner he used was far more sophisticated than anything Riordan had seen.
“Where did you get that, isn’t that restricted tech?” Riordan asked.
“It’s a perk of the job. I landed a government contract about a year ago. I have a license for this and a few other toys that would have landed me in lockup when we ran together,” Jaisen replied.
“Do you think you can get it open?” Riordan asked.
“Can't say yet. I can tell you this though; it has an advanced power cell capable of powering this unit for years. It's mechanically locked and magnetically sealed. The only way to get this thing open is through the keypad electronics. That's the next step. I'm going to try and brute force the pass-code. Did you touch the keypad at all?" Jaisen asked.
“I know better than that,” Riordan replied smartly.
Jaisen lightly dusted the keypad with a white powder.
“What I am doing now is trying to see what numbers have been pressed the most,” Jaisen said. He picked up a small light unit and shined it on the keypad. The dust glowed green in the invisible light. He lightly blew the dust away. Nothing.
“They must have wiped it. It would have made things easier if we knew what numbers they were pushing,” Jaisen said. He carefully placed electrodes on the surface of the container. He plugged the half dozen leads into his testing unit. The display lit up.
“This explains why your unit wouldn’t interface with the electronics. It’s encrypted; all of it, everything.”
“What does that mean?” Riordan asked.
“What it means, buddy, is that whatever is in there, has a high value to someone. Only that someone can access the contents. Without the proper code, no one gets in. Hell, it might even have a tracker built into it. Let me run a check," Jaisen said, pulling out another device. He fiddled with it for a few moments holding it in different directions. He moved it near the case, and then away.
“Atticus, you might have a problem. Are you running anything, transmitters, telemetry, anything like that?” Jaisen asked, the concern clear in his voice.
“No, the only thing that should be running is my network connection to the station. Why?” Riordan replied.
***
Captain Mareion Shepherd stared at the view screen on the bridge of her warship. Shepherd positioned her ship at the far extreme of their sensor range from the station to avoid detection. They’d been waiting for Riordan's ship for two days. The bastard was flush with credits and took some time in the Victoria system enjoying himself. Shepherd was confident that Riordan wouldn’t be able to open the case, if he had it. There are only a few in this sector of the cluster that could. One of those men was on Vesta station. Riordan had filed this flight plan before the staged pirate attack. So, while it was unlikely that he had planned to take the case here, it was always better to err on the side of caution.
"Prepare the Team. Use the shuttle we confiscated smuggling contraband in the Ionian system. Kill Riordan, retrieve the case, detain the locksmith, and continue with your secondary mission," Shepherd said to the steely-eyed man standing next to her chair.
“What about collateral damage, Sir?” the man asked.
“What about it?”
***
Jaisen led Riordan to the ladder at the back of the cargo hold, the instrument held out before him.
"It’s coming from up there," Jaisen said. "Has anyone been on the Swindler since you acquired the case?"
"Yeah, the insurance agent, a federal police search team, and the guys that collected the salvaged goods," Riordan replied.
Jaisen scanned as they ascended the ladder, his forehead furrowed in thought. He narrowed the bandwidth the closer they got to the emission. He scanned the small command deck with negative results. Riordan tried to ask something, but Jaisen covered his mouth and pointed to Riordan’s ears. It could also be a listening device. Riordan nodded his understanding. Riordan’s small quarters behind the command deck checked out, and they moved up to the recreation deck. The signal was stronger. There, against the galley wall, sat the Food Preparer in all its brushed stainless-steel splendor.
Jaisen pulled a panel remover from his pocket and stepped toward the device. Riordan grabbed his wrist, mouthing NO! Jaisen shrugged him off and pointed to the display on his device. A few moments later, Jaisen soundlessly removed the front panel and set it on the outdated burnt orange carpet. He produced a small flashlight and shined it around in the guts of the Food Preparer. After a few moments, he motioned for Riordan to look for himself. There, nestled up against the bottom of the production area plate, a black module the size of his fist was held in place with EVA tape. Wires ran from the module and were spliced into the power harness.