Part 23 (1/2)
”Yes, many freighter crew do that. I envy you, coming from such a world. I've always wanted to visit New Zarahemla. Especially the beaches. I hear they are beautiful.”
”Yes,” the captain responded, with the rest of his crew nodding their support. ”Absolutely beautiful. I love them. In fact, I was born and raised close to the water, right there on a bay. Practically lived on the beach. Went fis.h.i.+ng every day. I love fis.h.i.+ng. Are you a fisherman, Captain?”
The doctor shook his head.
”Anyways, I remember my father telling me over and over again about how he had this little cypress skiff that he would row out to his favorite fis.h.i.+ng spot, an oyster sh.e.l.l reef in a shallow, muddy bay that he would find by lining up a wind turbine with a gap between some trees. He'd catch redfish and speckled trout and a really tasty but hard-fighting little fish that we called a 'croaker' because of the noise it made. He'd bring the fish back and his mother would fry them up in this little cottage we had right on the water-beautiful place with a screen porch where we used to sit in rocking chairs and enjoy the breeze off the water. I've got a holocube of it right here. You'll see that it was really quite quaint the way they built them back then.”
As the captain was droning on, he opened a small locker near the Commander's Station as if to pull out a holocube. What came out of the locker, though, was decidedly not an image of a beach cottage. Just as he accelerated his motion to bring the object to bear, two sharp reports rang out, accompanied by the sudden appearance of two roughly eleven-and-a-half-millimeter circles in the center of the captain's forehead and an explosion of bone and brain matter from the back of his skull. As the man fell to the floor, all eyes turned in the direction of the two shots.
There, in his garish faux uniform, stood Dr. Ibrahim Sahin, holding a smoking M-1911 in a two-handed combat grip, with a look on his face that could almost be characterized as embarra.s.sment. By this time the Marines had the other crew members covered with shotguns, and Major Kraft was taking a small black pistol from the dead man's hand.
”CZ 535, nine millimeter, made on Bravo. Good little pistol, actually. Good thing you had the drop on him, Doctor.” He peered at the dead man's forehead. ”Nice grouping, by the way. You could cover both entry wounds with a one-credit coin.”
”Without meaning any insult to you, Major, I decline to accept the compliment, I'm afraid. I take pride in saving lives, not taking them.”
”No insult taken. Merely admiring a thing done well.” He turned to two of his men.
”Bind these two, and take them across to the c.u.mberland.”
To two others: ”Zamora and Ulmer, you two search the rest of the s.h.i.+p. Be careful.” He turned back to the dead man.
”Doctor, what was it that tipped you off? I had a vague feeling that these people were not what they said they were, but I can tell you were certain they were lying.”
”Quite simple, really. His ID cube said he was from New Zarahemla. What do you know about that world? Do you recognize the significance of the name?”
”Only that a lot of freighter crews come from there and that if a man from there is under your command in the corps, you generally don't have to worry about him being a drunk or a tranker. I have no idea where the name comes from.”
”Aaah. Well, it appears that you and our friends here share the same-apparently quite widespread-ignorance. Zarahemla is the name of a city and a republic mentioned in the Book of Mormon. New Zarahemla takes its name from there, as it was settled by an expedition funded by the Mormon, or LDS Church as they call themselves, and to this day virtually every resident of the planet is an adherent of that faith. The first name 'Brigham' is also very rare except among Mormons. Do you know anything about the Mormons, Major?”
”Very little, I'm afraid. I suspect I'm about to learn, though.”
The doctor smiled. ”I will try to keep my exposition short. First, their beliefs include a requirement that they wear at all times a highly characteristic type of undergarment as a constant reminder of their promises to G.o.d, somewhat akin to the wearing of a yarmulke, or kippah, by orthodox Jews, although the precise theological bases for the two are distinct. Our late captain here, as I could see from the way he was wearing his uniform, was clearly not wearing those garments. I am quite familiar with their appearance, as a physician who, from time to time, examines members of that faith.
”Second, the Latter Day Saints strictly avoid consumption of coffee or other stimulants. As you can see, there are two cups of coffee on this bridge. Third, their religion teaches them, quite accurately I might add from a purely secular perspective, that tobacco is not fit for human consumption. The woman had a pack of cigarettes among her effects.
”On top of that, not only did they not know the tenets of the faith to which they purported to adhere, but they were profoundly ignorant of the very world from which they said they came. Our supposed captain waxed eloquent about all the time he spent on the beautiful beaches of his planet when, according to every text and guidebook, their unfortunate geology is such that the land ma.s.ses rise from the ocean so steeply that continent and sea generally meet in towering cliffs and jagged rocks.
”All of their seaports are either artificial harbors created by building jetties and wharfs that extend from the land or by dredging rivers far inland to where the water level is closer to the elevation of the land ma.s.s, which makes him a liar, and a bad one at that. I am afraid that my recognition of that fact must have shown on my face, so Mr. Johnson-or whatever his name really is-was reaching for his pistol, thinking he might be able to take the boarding party hostage and convince our people to let him go. Remember, he thought I was the captain and accordingly believed that if he held me, he might have some bargaining power.”
Kraft nodded his head in admiration. ”At any rate, Doctor, you thwarted that plan. Let us see what Zamora and Ulmer found in their search and let our real captain know that the vessel is secure so that he can send over a prize crew.”
”Major Kraft says you double-tapped that freighter captain like a Special Forces commando, Doctor,” Max said admiringly.
”Traders often go to dangerous places and deal with unsavory individuals. Accordingly, most are almost always armed. I have used the Model 1911 since boyhood. I believe it to be the best fighting handgun ever fas.h.i.+oned by human hands, and I am very comfortable with it, which is why I had it with me, instead of the usual sidearm for the Romanovans. I did a bit of research and found that some Romanovan officers carry that weapon, so I decided to bring with me what I knew.”
”Always a wise decision when it comes to something on which you may be staking your life.”
The two men were sharing another companionable dinner in Max's day cabin, this one decidedly tastier than the last. The entree had been shrimp etouffee, served alongside various fresh-frozen vegetables and the usual fresh bread. All topped off with apple pie made with fresh apples.
”What of those other two we took off the freighter, the younger man and the cigarette-smoking woman?” asked Sahin.
”They are both neutrals, it turns out. The whole crew was from Hibernia. I put them aboard the prize and sent it back to Lovell Station. Since they aren't our citizens, we don't have jurisdiction over them, although we do get the s.h.i.+p. They will be turned over to the Igandii authorities, who Major Kraft tells me do have authority to try them under something called 'Jurisdiction by Estoppel.'”
”I'm certain I have never heard of it.”
”It's a great thing-perfect justice all the way around,” Max said. ”You see, if that s.h.i.+p had actually been Igandii, those two would have been under Igandii jurisdiction, pure and simple.”
”That is fundamental. But the s.h.i.+p wasn't Igandii, in reality. It had no true registry.”
”Exactly. Here's the part I really like. When they get hauled before an Igandii court, they are not permitted to argue that the Igandii lack jurisdiction, because they earlier masqueraded as an Igandii freighter. The are, essentially, forced to stick with their first lie instead of being able to argue the truth. Sometimes, the law can be a glorious thing. Not usually, you understand, not usually at all, but in this case, glorious.
”In any event, the Igandii take a dim view of those who falsely claim to be navigating under their flag. These two won't be executed, but they will spend several years in an Igandii prison, and the Igandii don't provide much in the way of luxuries in their correctional facilities.”
”What do the Igandii regard as a luxury, pray tell?” asked the doctor.
”Oh, things like... beds.”
”Alas, it can be a brutal galaxy.”
”It sure can. Although a good dinner can take the edge off the brutality. And there is at least some good news about the capture.”
”You are speaking on the subject of prize money?”
”One of my favorite subjects. This little freighter wasn't carrying gold, but she wasn't carrying potting soil, either.”
”And what exactly was the cargo?”
”Bearings.”
”Bearings? You mean those little metal b.a.l.l.s that they used to put in machinery before suspensive magnetic interfaces?”
”There's no 'used to' about it in the Navy, Bram. If you fill a s.p.a.cecraft full of suspensive magnetic interfaces, you fill a s.p.a.cecraft full of electromagnetic fields-fields that radiate into the surrounding s.p.a.ce, where they can be detected by the enemy. Naval vessels still use bearings. Lots and lots of bearings. There are probably half a million bearings of fifteen or twenty different sizes on this s.h.i.+p alone, maybe more. Wernher could tell you exactly.
”Not only do we use lots of bearings, but they are precision-manufactured, super hard, temperature resistant, low friction, antimagnetic, static dissipating, and have all sorts of other exotic properties. All of our bearings come from a small number of factories on Earth, Bravo, and Neue Bayern. G.o.d only knows where the Krag make theirs, but there are a few worlds in the Free Corridor that manufacture bearings to naval specifications, and one of them is Ras.h.i.+d V C, a moon in the same system as Ras.h.i.+d IV. Started as a mining colony, easy access to the rare earths and special metals used in these things-you know the drill.
”So, this freighter is stuffed to the brim with the highest quality precision bearings made to naval specifications. Worth a small fortune. Our share of their value will be a nice bit of change, as will the value of the freighter. The loss of those bearings will cut into Krag wars.h.i.+p production in a big way. We captured enough bearings to equip dozens of vessels. Maybe as many as a hundred. This is almost as big a blow to them as seizing all that gold.”
”I never thought I would say something like this,” Sahin said, ”but I am deriving a great deal of satisfaction from my small role in setting back the enemy's war effort.”
”It's a good feeling, no doubt about it. And your role is not small either. Like how you figured out those freighter rats were lying to you. There's not a man on board who would have sniffed out that lie the way you did. Major Kraft says it was a very nice piece of observation and deduction.”