Chapter 6

Jeffrey had Elizabeth manufacture two more runabouts so several crew could prospect for valuable rocks at once. Each runabout could hold two crew members, so everyone could go out at once. Elizabeth parked close to a large cluster of boulders that seemed to be stable in their positions. “Everyone, take a look at the rock I am currently illuminating.” The others pointed the bows of their small boats at the illuminated asteroid, and Jeffrey continued, “First, take a look at your magnetometers. The other runabouts likely will affect it somewhat, but if you change the orientation somewhat, you can clearly see some magnetic effect.

“The next thing is, check out your gas spectrometers as I lase a few points.” Jeffrey pointed the laser at several points over a minute, each point released a spout of gas or vapor. Jeffrey's spectrometer indicated a high ferrous content, but also nickle, water ice, some carbon and a diminishing number of other minerals. Jeffrey fired a buoy with a strobe and radio locator. “Okay, teams, what did your spectrometers read?” he asked.

Torres replied first. “I see Iron, nickel, water ice, carbon.”

Smitty, who was riding with Janet, then said, “There's also a whole plethora of noble gasses, but in minute quantities.”

“All right, everyone, go find me some heavy metals. I want Uranium, Gold, Silver, Molybdenum, and especially Tungsten. Use your radars and radios to figure out what is in each rock. Regardless, tag any rock of value. When we are done with the exercise, we'll drag those rocks onboard and begin processing them.”

Sneaky, piloting the runabout Jeffrey was in, turned on the radar to very bright, high gain, multifrequency signal. The radar image was superimposed on the video image of the current location. She saw that one particular rock seemed to have considerably greater mass than any of the other rocks in the area, so she high-tailed it to that rock, put her buoy on it, and began testing using all the tools Jeffrey had made available. She also noted that the rock was slightly radioactive.

“Good work, Audrey. No nonsense, you went right for the prize.” Just then Janet called.

“Captain,” she said, “we have a rock with more than ten percent Tungsten.”

“Good work, Janet and Smitty.”

“Captain, Torres here. I have a big rock with a lot of iron and copper.”

“Okay you guys, tag them, and then cluster around me,” said Jeffrey.

Twenty minutes later the two other runabouts pulled up alongside Jeffrey and Sneaky's runabout. “Pay attention, for rocks this size, you need to deploy three rockets on the push side, and three on the brake side. You need to array them at about 45 degrees from center mass to allow for maneuvering.” Jeffrey then had Sneaky bring the runabout up to touch the rock, Jeffrey pointed to where he wanted her to place the runabout. When she got there, he activated the first motor. It drilled itself into the surface of the rock. He then had her go to another spot and placed another motor, and yet again a third.

They repeated the placement on the brake side. “I am now programming the motors to coordinate themselves, and where I want them to go. I always have them go just aft of Elizabeth, to avoid crashing into her, although now that the AI is so smart, she won't let anything bad happen to herself.”

He activated the motors, and while starting slowly, the rock soon sped towards the dot in the sky that was Elizabeth. Jeffrey then followed Torres to his rock and followed the same technique. Then they all went over to Janet's rock, and Smitty set the motors. Soon all three rocks were on their way to Elizabeth.

The crew then returned to the ship, and within a few moments, the three rocks began to arrive. Elizabeth took control of the motors of the first rock, and guided it into the hold. Jeffrey said, “Elizabeth, that rock is somewhat radioactive, we should segregate it for safety..”

“AYE, CAPTAIN.”

They then parked the runabouts in the shuttle bay. Jeffrey said, “Pilots – you do your maintenance on the runabouts. Passengers let's begin smelting and separating the minerals one from the others.”

Jeffrey started in the hold containing the first rock. In the hold was a couple large semi-spheres, Jeffrey maneuvered first one side then the other around the rock, sealed it so it was a large sphere. He connected the power cable, and activated the switch on the panel. Immediately, they felt a vibration through their hard suits.

“Ow,” said Smitty. “tickles my teeth!”

“So here,” lectured Jeffrey, “is where the rock is shaken up to dust. As they heat up, gasses are captured and separated so we have Hydrogen, Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, and a plethora of other chemicals. They are filtered and added to the ship's storage. The dust will be centrifuged to separate one isotope from another. Depending on the need, they will be piped to the smelter or to the fabricator. The smelter will melt and then make ingots. The fabricator will make whatever we want.”

After the crew finished their smelting and maintenance tasks, they removed their hard suits and hung them in the midship suit bay. Digger volunteered to be the chef, and the rest all showered while he rummaged around the cold stores. Janet told him that her vegetable garden wouldn't produce for another thirty days or so. He decided on a Jambalaya-like pot that incorporated vegetables, broth, various kinds of protein. He set it to cook for a couple hours, took biscuits out of the freezer, made coffee and iced tea.

When he judged all was ready, he had Elizabeth call the crew to dinner. They came into the galley to find a tablecloth on the table, plates sitting on place settings, glasses of iced tea and cups of coffee at each place.

The entire crew were in their under-suits which seemed a little informal for the occasion, bur Digger let it pass. Jeffrey said, “Digger, this is really nice. Smells good. What is it?”

“Something I learned to cook in my home. It's like Jambalaya. I cut down to about fifty-percent of the hot peppers.”

“Well,” said Jeffrey, “let's not wait on ceremony, dish 'er up!”

“Captain,” interrupted Digger. “If I may request. May I say a grace?”

Jeffrey looked at the man with new eyes. “By all means. Everyone! Quiet. Go ahead Digger.”

“Thank you Captain.”

Then Zitulu Mbaka bent his head, and said. “Let us pray.” Jeffrey saw several others bend their heads, as if this was not unusual for them. “God,” he began in his Lagos accent. “Please look down upon us and bless us, bless our mission, and bless this food. In your holy name. Amen.” Torres and Bianca both crossed themselves. Digger then changed his expression, his face lighting up, a big toothy smile on his expressive face, and said, “Let's eat!”

The food was better than Jeffrey had ever had on this ship. “I have an idea,” said Jeffrey. “I like this gathering for dinner. Any problem making it mandatory? We can share cooking and cleanup duties.”

All agreed. Twenty hundred hours was the designated time to gather for food. Janet volunteered to write up the cooking and cleaning schedule.

Jeffrey said, “As far as prayers are concerned, it is up to the cook. You may pray for yourselves if the cook doesn't initiate it.” Again, all agreed. Up until just this moment, Jeffrey had been thinking of his crew as just a bunch of individuals on his ship, now they were family. There were ties between them all that were stronger than any comradeship or friendship.

After the meal, Jeffrey helped clean up the galley. Torres stayed behind as the other crew went their separate ways. “Captain, can I talk with you for a couple minutes?”

“Certainly.”

They each took a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, now sans tablecloth. “That was nice. I like how you recognize a good thing and incorporate it into our standard operating procedure.”

“Thanks.”

“I had an idea that I think will help us improve our survive-ability in a sneak attack.”

“Sounds like you've been thinking.”

“Indeed I have. All of us have lightweight under-suits that we usually wear when working, and also some kind of non-protected cloth clothing that we wear off-hours. I would like to suggest a uniform that each of us can get into within a few seconds, that is mildly armored.

“In the mid-twentieth century they developed a yarn that was used to make bulletproof garments, they called it Kevlar. They also used this to make fire protection gear. We can craft a suit of clothes, like a jumpsuit made of something like this, or other material like carbon fibers, and always be protected. Unless we are in the shower. Or otherwise naked.” He winked at the captain. “It should protect us against knife attacks, explosive decompression, small-bore flechettes, and stunners. It won't against a plasma blaster, but it might help you survive your wound.”

“Great!” said Jeffrey. “I like your thinking. Go ahead and do it.”

“Ah, there's the rub, Captain.” He scraped at a spot on the table. “I don't know squat about designing this kind of thing. I have the idea, but I'm out of my depth.”

“Elizabeth,” said Jeffrey. “Please connect me with Janet.”

Janet's voice came over the loudspeaker. “Yes Captain?”

“Elizabeth, please play back Torres' conversation with me.”

She did, and when the playback was over, Jeffrey told her, “I want you to work with Ojo – you both have great ideas. You have the technical skills to design the suits, and can help Elizabeth execute.”

“Okay, Captain.”

Over the next few days, while Smitty, Digger and Sneaky went out to tag asteroids, Torres and Janet worked on the design of the suits with input from Elizabeth. In that time, they had gotten close, and spent time together both on and off the project. That shared time quickly became a shared bed, and the two became one more than twice each day.

The suits began to be built, several sets for each crew member. Elizabeth had suggested some improvements, including carbon fiber tubes throughout the suits that, in the event of being caught in space, the suits could recycle wastes and protect the crew member from freezing or cooking, and short term cosmic radiation, as well as the pressure issues. After another day the suits were finished. Jeffrey distributed them at that evening's meal. After that meal, Jeffrey asked Janet and Torres to his cabin.

He sat them down at the table, and said, “You realize it is against regulations for a non-com and an officer to...comingle. Janet blushed profusely, Torres blustered about it being his fault. “Jeffrey stopped them. “I don't give a flying rip about that regulation. You kids are old enough to know what you are doing. Just don't go sneaking behind my back. Our backs.

“The only problem I have is if it affects your work. You are both combat professionals and members of my crew. If it affects your work, then have the good sense to cut it out. You may find someone else on the crew that you want to screw, and if that is going to be a problem for your partner, then cut it out.

“If you find someone else having relations that you object to, just remember yourselves and realize that on this ship, it is nobody's business.

“Questions?”

“No sir,” and “No, Captain.”

“Good. Now why don't you let the other crew members know what you are up to so they don't jump your bones for hiding it?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And Torres,” he added as the crew chief was leaving.

“Sir?”

“Give her a kiss for me!”

“No sir.”

Jeffrey found himself with more time on his hands than ever, so he began concocting upgrades to the ship he wanted to accomplish. He started sharing them with Elizabeth.

“I want to increase the armor on this ship as well as the shielding. I think we can do that by installing tungsten alloy plating and water tanks on the outside of the ship. This outer shell doesn't have to rotate, it can be stationary. To enter at an airlock, you go in, the airlock accelerates like an elevator to catch up to the rotated inner lock. I think it would add another level of anti-boarding security.”

Elizabeth replied, “CAPTAIN, IT IS DOABLE. BUT I WILL NEED ANOTHER TEN TONNES OF TUNGSTEN, MORE IF YOU WANT ME TO MAKE AMMUNITION OUT OF IT AS WELL.”

”I can have the crew hunt for tungsten until we have enough, starting tomorrow,” Jeffrey finished. That evening he explained his plan to the crew.

“That will be quite a project,” said Torres. Jeffrey noticed Bianca sitting rather close to him. He then noticed Audrey and Brandon sitting closer together. What have I started, he wondered to himself.

“Elizabeth will do most of the work with her remotes. We just need to get the raw materials, and smelt it.”

After work hours, Janet and Audrey worked the garden, glad to see some vegetables beginning to show. Janet saw some white spots on the leaves of some of the plants, and she and Audrey took a sample, looked at it in a microscope. “Looks like just a regular fungus.” Neither of the women knew what they needed to do, nor did Elizabeth. They cut off the leaves with the white spots and incinerated them, and decided to increase their monitoring.

So the next couple of weeks saw the crew busy seeking and bringing back tungsten-bearing asteroids, then using the smelter and fabricator to make sheets according to Elizabeth's specs. They also created a meter-deep layer of water tanks with piping to circulate the water. The water, of course came from the asteroids. Elizabeth constructed an additional twenty remote robots, but these were much larger than the kitten-sized originals. These robots were powerful enough to carry whole pallets of tungsten-alloy sheets from the hold to the outer skin of the ship.

As the shell was being completed, Elizabeth began moving the antenna arrays and weapons onto the outer shell. When finished, the job had taken six weeks altogether. Because she already had significant quantities of water aboard, the additional water was not a significant burden. Elizabeth decided that she was going to need more powerful engines in order to move the greater mass of the water and tungsten, but she could still move faster than most non-military vessels in the system.

Because of Jeffrey's upgrade to his ship, the holds were only half full, so he continued to have the crew gather heavy metals and other minerals and gasses to trade or sell. Jeffrey kept the ship on a twelve hour work cycle, and the crew took advantage of the down-time to socialize. The two women on board had found some satisfaction in both their connections to their lovers, and to each other to discuss their lovers, much to the chagrin of their lovers. When not involved with each other, the crew practiced their combat techniques, both organized by Torres and in informal games.

After another couple weeks, the ship was ready to return in-system to sell their cargo. They headed in towards Lagrange 3A, the closest station to their current location. This would also give Jeffrey the ability to monitor pirate activity after Wanigan had paid her visit.

As the crew of the Elizabeth prepared to move in-system, they picked up their marine training; the hard work of asteroid mining, ship maintenance and other exercises nicely balanced the increases in caloric intake that the regular dinner time presented. With the reduction in exercise, they were likely to get pudgy, so the consensus was that they would all take part in regular calisthenics, martial arts practice, capped off with a laser-tag type game, using real lasers set to low power. Elizabeth coupled the aft end of the ship to the fore end, so the entire ship rotated, providing simulated gravity from stem to stern. The outer shell did not rotate, so the ship appeared as a sleek, but non-gravitied vessel.

This allowed her to set up courses for the laser tag games which the crew valued. As experienced as Torres was as a fifteen-year veteran of the space Marines, Audrey, the team's ninja, always came out ahead.

Torres, on the other hand came out ahead on all martial arts bouts. He had learned and practiced Jujutsu in Tokyo and Brasilia. He also had black belts in Shotokan Karate, also studied in Japan, and Taekowndo, studied in Panmunjom, Korea. He began training all the crew in Kodokan Judo, so each of the crew members could become proficient in a single, comprehensive martial art. The four weeks of travel in-system gave an opportunity for each to improve significantly on the training they had received in military basic training.

Elizabeth took longer than usual to get to the Lagrange 3A station than in previous trips because the ship now had nearly a third greater mass than it had before. This inspired Jeffrey to begin exploring replacing the engines on his ship. He needed something that could propel the ship in a more nimble fashion without consuming more of the fuel than he could carry. This gave him numerous options to consider; a larger ion engine could push the ship faster, but would take a very long time to get up to that speed; atomic fusion engines were still too new to trust, but offered much more rapid acceleration. Also there was the possibility of waste products contaminating the space in which the ship lingered. He would have to check up on that.

There was one other possibility that he didn't know enough about; using the gravity propulsion drive that pulled and pushed on the dark matter of space. On pondering these technical issues, he realized he had much more research to perform. He thought he would seek the advise of Commander Yusef. Jeffrey sent a message to Wanigan for Yusef. They agreed to meet after Elizabeth unloaded her cargo.

Elizabeth had no problems docking this time. There was a new administration in place that reflected a more professional attitude. Before any other business, Jeffrey arranged the broker to visit Elizabeth's hold to see for himself the size and quality of his ores and gasses. The broker said, “Jeff – thanks for taking charge about that pirate bastard Chin. We were being robbed blind by the bribes we had to pay just to do business here.”

Jeffrey and the broker agreed on prices for most of the cargo. The broker refused to meet Jeffrey's price on the mercury, gold, and silver that took up three containers. He told Jeffrey, “The precious metals aren't all that precious any more. Unless you want to make gold wire, what you have there represents a waste of your mining time.” The broker assumed a look of paternal support. “Let me do this for you – I'll take it off your hands for,” here he paused to think, “a quarter your asking price. Even there, I'm taking a loss.”

“Elizabeth, what is your take?” Jeffrey asked. Her voice came over the public address system, booming and echoing in the large spaces.

“CAPTAIN, THE BROKER IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH. NEWS REPORTS OF SPECULATORS BUYING UP AS MUCH OF THE PRECIOUS METALS AS POSSIBLE ARE BEING PLAYED ALL OVER THE SYSTEM.”

“Thanks, Elizabeth,” he said. Then to the broker, “So you wish to do me a favor? Tell you what, I'll worry about the precious metals, you just worry about the rest of the cargo, as we agreed.”

“Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. You misunderstand me. Those speculators are creating a bubble. It will crash, leaving you and anyone else holding these precious metals with no value at all!” He again assumed the paternal look, and said. “Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll give what you originally asked for for the entire cargo..”

Jeffrey took on the look of a confused beginner, and said, “I don't know, maybe I should do that speculating myself. Maybe I'll get rich!”

“No, no. You don't want to do that. You will lose everything! You'll lose your shirt. Your ship. Don't go that route. Let me help you with this. I'll give you double your claimed value.”

“CAPTAIN, A CALL FROM CAPTAIN YUSEF OF WANIGAN IS WAITING FOR YOU,” announced Elizabeth.

“Look, I'll think about your offer. I have to take this call.”

“Before you go,” said the broker, “Let's firm up this deal. I'll give you triple the value.”

“Tell you what,” said Jeffrey. “You wait in the galley, after this call, I'll talk to you.” He had Audrey escort the broker to the galley, and she provided him with tea and cookies, relatively freshly baked.

In the bridge, Jeffrey activated the message. “Captain Sokolov, Yusef here. Before you unload your cargo, the Navy requests that you provide us with first bid on all precious metals. It is very important that you do not sell unless we have had an opportunity to bid. We should be at your location in forty-eight hours. Please hold off precious metals sales until we arrive.”

What the hell is going on, Jeffrey asked himself. Something's not right here. “Elizabeth, please quietly put the crew on alert. I think something's coming up that may make us vulnerable.”

“WORKING”

He then went back to the galley, and asked the broker “So exactly what is going on with precious metals?”

The broker asked, “Why? What did the Navy Captain tell you?” Jeffrey let his frustration show.

“You know, I've been in this business since I was a kid. I ran this ship since I was fifteen.” He raised his voice. “Don't treat me like a child. Either tell me what is going on or I'll find another broker to work with.”

“No, no, no.” the broker started blustering, but then said resignedly, “Okay. Here's the lowdown, the skinny. The station administration let all the brokers know that they needed gold, silver and platinum for some military purpose, but of course it is top secret. We were told not to let the miners know. From colleagues on other stations, I am told it is system wide.”

“And you wanted to make a killing on the market, right?”

The broker looked down, shame-faced. “Yes.”

“I am going to hang on to my cargo, for now. I'm sorry we couldn't do business today. Audrey will see you off the ship.” The trader got up, reluctantly, but now certain he had made a bad move.

“Captain, please don't kill our relationship.”

“We'll see. Goodby.”

“Jonathon.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name. Jonathon,” said the broker. “I always felt it gave me an advantage if the miners had no idea of what my name is.”

“Jonathon,” said Jeffrey. “Nice to make your acquaintance. I'm Captain Sokolov.” he continued. Maybe this will at least make him use my real name – stop calling me 'Jeff'.

The crew now on alert, went on 'shore leave' two at a time, accompanying each other to all stops. The station seemed to be more prosperous than it had previously, new stores and shops opened since their last visit. Janet dragged Torres to the Dirt Store and spoke with the clerk about the white fungus spots on their vegetables. The clerk offered some anti-fungal, but suggested they just use vinegar on their soil and the leaves. They bought some of the anti-fungal and some other chemicals they may need to combat other invasive biologics.

Torres took her to a nice restaurant, and they enjoyed their dining experience, but agreed that they already had better cooks on board Elizabeth than the restaurant. Torres arranged for more fresh foodstuffs to be delivered to the ship, this time including meats, which were missing from the last order. There was ham, recently brought up from Virginia, beef from Argentina, chicken from China, turkey from Minnesota, and venison from Texas. There were whole cases of sausages from Chicago, Italy, Germany and France.

They also found a cheese monger who provided wheels of cheddar, provolone, mozzarella, and other soft and hard cheeses.

They arranged to have these foodstuffs delivered to the dock at sixteen hundred zulu. They then returned to the ship. They took up the security posts, relieving Audrey and Brandon, who went shopping for their personal needs. They wore their new suits designed by Torres, which brought stares from other inhabitants, but probably less for their technical specifications than for the profile her suit presented Audrey in.

Audrey found a cloth merchant, and purchased several bolts of pure Vietnamese silk, bolts of Scottish wool, and bolts of Egyptian cotton. The merchant tried to entice her with various poly cloths, but she was not interested, considering that Elizabeth could likely make that herself.

Brandon then went to a weapons shop. They looked over the offerings, found a few high-powered projection weapons, some pistols, some stunners. There were a lot of types of ammunition, but because Elizabeth had the ability to manufacture her own, they rejected them. Brandon purchased one each of the weapons. Audrey found some knives, darts, shuriken, that she naturally had to acquire. They both found some swords that they couldn't live without. They purchased a variety of swords that their shipmates would likely find useful. Delivery for fifteen thirty zulu.

On their arrival back at Elizabeth Zitulu Mbaka and Jeffrey went to the shops to arrange for their personal purchases and to arrange for the ships needs. Jeffrey stopped at the fuel monger, and arranged for the refueling of the ship at nineteen hundred zulu. But the monger's clerk told him that authorization had to come from the station for any purchase. The clerk said, “If you could please stand by, we can get this going.”

Jeffrey again had a bad feeling about this, but decided to see what he could. He had Digger cross the avenue and sit at a non-covered cafe, while Jeffrey waited for whatever it was the clerk would do. Digger then ordered cafe-au-lait and croissant. Jeffery then stood at the counter, looking at the clerk, as the clerk explained to his supervisor that the captain of the Elizabeth was trying to purchase fuel for the ship.

Within a few seconds, an officer of the station appeared in the store accompanied by a couple security officers. Jeffrey noticed the officer was missing a finger on his right hand. He then recognized the officer as the man who had infiltrated his ship the last time Elizabeth was in port.

Jeffrey said, “We meet again. How's the finger?”

There was anger in the officer's eyes. “It hurts. It itches. It makes me angry!”

“What brings you here, officer – uh,” he read the name tag on the light armor suit, “Andrade.”

The officer regained composure and said, “Captain Sokolov of Elizabeth,you are under arrest.”

The security officers moved around to take Jeffrey into custody. They grabbed him by his upper arms. One took the radio communicator from its pocket on his suit and turned it off.

Mbaka got up to intervene, but Jeffrey shook his head. Instead, Mbaka radioed to Elizabeth to notify the ship her captain was in trouble.

Andrade took his stunner out and shot Jeffrey in the neck. Jeffrey went unconscious immediately, and the two security officers began dragging him away. Mbaka followed from a distance.

Janet Bianca took the news of Jeffrey's arrest and rough handling with a bit of relief – this was her first time in command since she came aboard the ship, and now was able to prove herself – to herself. Start with the facts, she told herself.

“Elizabeth,” she said. “What do we know?”

“THE OFFICER THAT RENDERED OUR CAPTAIN UNCONSCIOUS IS THE SAME MAN WHO HAD ATTACKED OUR SHIP THE LAST TIME WE WERE HERE. HE IS THE GUY WHOSE FINGER I SHOT OFF.”

“Can you track events through the station's computers?”

“ALREADY UNDER WAY.”

“Good.”

“JANET, THERE IS a Squad OF SECURITY OFFICERS APPROACHING THE GANGWAY.”

Janet then called out “Alert! Ship is under attack.” Elizabeth sent the message throughout the ship.

“Torres and Smitty to the forward airlock. Sneaky take the aft entrances.”

She then armed herself with a high-powered rifle – the kind that threw large-bore projectiles rapidly – and went to the front entrance and stalked down the gangway. An officer at the base of the gangway said “This ship is under orders. Stand out of the way and surrender.”

Janet moved the pointy end of the rifle a little higher, while still not aiming directly at any of the officers.

“Back off!” she said, menacingly. “Any attempt to board this ship will be met with deadly force. This is the only warning you will get.”

“Your captain is in custody. Surrender!” demanded the officer. His five colleagues drew out their stunners.

Janet raised the rifle to her shoulder and aimed it at the officer's forehead. The five officers all fired their stunners at Janet, but much to their surprise, the suit absorbed all the force of the stunners. Seeing the ineffectiveness of their weapons, they all stepped back one step, but Janet advanced toward them still aiming the rifle at the forehead of the officer in charge. The five other officers ran off, back to the first corner they could hide behind. The officer in charge fell to his knees, his hands in the air.

Torres ran down the gangway, cuffed the officer's hands and dragged him aboard the ship. Janet walked backwards up the gangway, keeping the rifle at ready. When she reached the entry, she told Smitty to disengage the gangway and seal the hatch, and continue to stand guard.

“Yessir, Ma'am”

Torres and Janet took the bound security officer to the galley, sat him down and stripped him of his uniform and then Torres put him through a full search. Satisfied that they had removed all the weapons, communications devices and any other material that could be deemed offensive, they looked over the officer's identification, and other documents.

Janet said to the officer, “It says your name is Jason Calloway. Are you, Jason Calloway, Sargent of the station security? Answer.”

The officer was silent until Torres put his knuckle onto the side of his neck, applied pressure and began to twist. The excruciating pain was enough to cause the officer to yelp and then answer, “Yes!”

Janet said, “Good. You see how this works. I ask questions, you answer them truthfully. My crew chief is an expert at getting information out of people, but we agreed that I would try first. Do you understand?”

Calloway looked daggers at Bianca, but held his tongue. A reminder from Torres inflicted a little more pain. He yelped again, and said, “Yes.”

Janet said, “Elizabeth, please inform your sister of the unfortunate events that just occurred.”

“YES JANET. MESSAGE AWAY.”

“Now Mister Calloway, I see your identification, I see your badge, I see your weapons, but what I don't see is a warrant. Please explain what you and your team were trying to do to my ship.”

Calloway wanted to balk further but thought better of it after looking at how eager Torres seemed to be to inflict more pain. He said, “I had orders to take this ship and arrest its crew.”

“Who gave those orders,” Janet asked politely.

He looked at Janet, then at Torres, then back at Janet, but held his silence and closed his eyes in anticipation of another torturous experience. When the expected pain did not arrive, he opened his eyes again, to see Torres in front of him, tossing and catching his combat knife. He noticed there was a cutting board on the table in front of him. He realized what the next step in his interrogation was going to be and tried to lurch upward to escape. Torres kicked his legs out from under him and he crashed on the deck, face first. Torres lifted the bound arms to the point of pain, Calloway cried out “You're going to break my shoulder!”

But Torres replied, “Nah, just dislocate it a little.”

“No! Please stop!” cried Calloway.

Janet said to Torres, “Get him back up here.” Torres put the knife back in its sheath, hauled the officer back up, and put him in the chair. This time he secured the bound hands to the chair, then the feet too. Calloway realized that this was going to be a longer than he anticipated stay on board being tortured by these crazy people.

“I'll ask one more time. Who gave you the order to invade my ship?” Janet said quietly.

“Andrade!” he rasped out. “He wanted revenge for your last visit.”

“I thought as much. So you and your team aren't on duty, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you realize you just committed an act of piracy?” Janet asked. “And the penalty for piracy is execution.”

“What?” he shouted. “No! It was just retribution for his finger!”

She then had Torres secure the unfortunate man in a makeshift brig that Elizabeth had supplied with the usual remotes.

Back on the bridge, Janet asked, “Elizabeth, what is our situation? Where is the captain?”

“JANET, I HAVE UPLOADED A COPY OF MYSELF TO THEIR COMPUTERS. GATHERING INFORMATION ON ANDRADE AND HIS COMPANIONS. MBAKA IS STILL FOLLOWING THE SQUAD THAT TOOK THE CAPTAIN. IT APPEARS THAT THERE IS A STANDING ORDER TO BULLY SHIP CAPTAINS WHO HAVE PRECIOUS METALS INTO SURRENDERING THEM TO THE STATION. ALSO, THE STATION HAS BEGUN BROADCASTING A RADIO BLOCKING WAVEFORM.”

“I don't think we can count on the station management to provide us with any assistance,” said Janet.

“AGREED.”

Janet thought about her situation. Captain gone, but being trailed. Wanigan still a couple days out. A security officer in their brig, a squad of off-duty security officers on the wharf watching them. She had resources on both the ship and inside the computers of the station.

“It looks like they don't want word of this problem to get out. Can you piggyback on the carrier wave to get out a message to the other ships?” Janet asked.

“NO VOCAL MESSAGE WOULD BE INTELLIGIBLE.”

“But I'll bet you could get out a Morse code signal pretty well, don't you?”

“JANET, YOU ARE A GENIUS.

The other ships in the cluster surrounding the Lagrange 3A station heard nothing on the radio but a multifrequency static white noise. It was a powerful broadcast from the station's own transmitters. But then, ships began noticing a series of peaks in the white noise that made a bit of a pattern. The captains of each of the ships began recognizing the several hundred years old Morse code, but had to rely on their ships computers to translate. They got the gist of the situation, and pulled farther away, out of the range of the signal jamming radios to communicate among themselves.

Janet then called Sneaky to the bridge. Torres came too.

“I think it is time we utilize your ninja personality, Audrey.”

“Thank you Ma'am, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“Get our Captain back, if possible without them knowing he is gone, and without killing anybody, if possible.” Janet explained that there was a rudimentary copy of Elizabeth in the station's computers, but that it couldn't become overly active without blowing their cover. When needed, it could activate itself to override any computer commands.

“Give me a few minutes to get ready,” said Audrey. “They won't know what hit them, or the fact that they were hit!”

Military commandos are usually trained to work in groups, although they sometimes had to work alone. Like snipers, they were experts at blending in with the scenery. Audrey was not part of such a group, she earned her moniker 'Sneaky' after studying under a Ninjutsu master in California. Ninjutsu is the ancient art of the Japanese assassins and spies. In their heyday, they lived and worked outside the system of Samurai, in which there were lords, the Samurai, and peasants, and not much else. The training the ninjas received prepared them for surreptitious completion of their missions. Often that involved overt martial arts activities, such as using the standard karate and jujutsu moves, and in ancient times, sword arts.

But the important lessons of the ninja training Audrey received was to use your head - be something other than what witnesses were expecting. She had learned the arts practiced by entertainment magicians for ages – redirect the mark's attention. Use smoke, mirrors, technology, to seem magical. Audrey was very good.

With the gangway disconnected from the ship, the only way to get on board or off, seemed to be via shuttle, and all shuttles were warned away from the wharf to which Elizabeth was docked. The ship was docked in a part of the station that had atmosphere control, unlike previous occasions, when they were docked outside the station's atmosphere.

The watchers on the wharf kept an eye out for any activity at the dock. The ship looked significantly different than it had last time, a new metallic shell surrounded the old ship's skin. Still, they were told to watch for any activity and report it.

They didn't expect a horn blast out of the bow of the ship – they couldn't even see the device that made the noise, then they noticed a thick cloud of steam coming off the aft end of the ship near the shuttle hanger bay. Then the horn noise again.

“Who is that?” asked one watcher to another, pointing at a gaily clad prostitute walking toward the gangway. The watcher called her over to him, and said, '”Sorry, honey, you can't make anything on those guys. That ship's under quarantine.”

The little prostitute, looked disappointed, twirled her umbrella, flicked her tail, and sauntered off. The watcher said, “Hey, what's your name?”

“What do you want it to be, honey?” she responded coyly.

“Ah, get out of here. Maybe I'll see you around.” He turned to his fellow watcher. “You ever see her before?”

The other watcher shook his head, they turned around to look at her, but she was gone. As they were about to chase after her, the ship blasted another horn blast and all its exterior lights came on at the same time. They reported the unusual activity at the ship to their controller.

Audrey 'Sneaky' Svoboda discarded her hooker costume, hiding it under a refuse container, and put on a bulky orange jumpsuit, the kind that station maintenance used. Elizabeth guided her to the area which held the captain, where she spotted Zitulu Mbaka. He hadn't seen her yet. He leaned against a wall trying to look like he belonged there. Audrey noted that he was being watched by a couple of thugs – obviously not station personnel. They were situated at opposite corners from where Zitulu stood, both could see him, but not each other.

She walked past him, to one of the watchers, unzipped the jumpsuit as if to show some cleavage (she had her new uniform under-suit underneath the jumpsuit so there was no cleavage to show, but the act itself was enough to engage the interests of the watcher she was performing for.) It took a moment, but finally Zitulu recognized her and followed her activities without moving.

She turned the corner and walked in front of the watcher, passing a meter away. She stopped and turned around and said, “What did you call me?” then slapped the watcher across the face. Her thumb was sticking out and poked him in the temple in a neural plexus. He went unconscious immediately, she helped him to the ground and arranged him to look like he was just resting.

She quickly searched the thug, took his wallet and knife. He had a radio, which she turned off and pocketed.

Audrey then got up and sashayed past Zitulu again, to the other watcher. She repeated her deceptive behavior, knocked out the thug, robbed him of a homemade projectile weapon and his identification, and rearranged her victim to look like he was sleeping off a bad drunken evening.

She then walked over to Zitulu who said that he followed the captain into the section across from where he waited. The walls in this area were tagged with graffiti in all sorts of interesting types, but it was obvious this was not the prosperous part of the station. She crossed the alley to a painted steel door, tried the handle to no avail. It appeared to be locked from the inside; there was no latch or lock on the outside.

She crossed the alley to Zitulu again, and he said, “I tried to get in, but the door is secure.”

She winked at him, and said, “Watch this.”

She walked around the corner where the first thug was still unconscious, saw what she was looking for, and went to the maintenance access panel. It too, was locked, but was a much less formidable door, so it opened easily. She climbed in, pulled the access panel shut, and felt her way around to approximately a meter from where the front door was. Listening for any activity and hearing none, she removed the interior access panel, dropped to the floor, moved to the door and opened it.

Amazed, Zitulu wasted no time entering. “Boost me up,” she said. He interlinked his fingers to make a step for her, she climbed onto his shoulders, stood high as she could, and pushed the high access panel shut, so it wasn't obvious how she had entered.

They walked the corridor as quietly as they could, but Zitulu noticed that his were the only footfalls he heard. The corridor ended in a T intersection, to the left were glass doors, in which could be seen casino operations. To the right was a door guarded by two unshaven security officers. Audrey took a marble-sized metal sphere, squeezed it then tossed it over the heads of the security officers – they never saw it – and it burst with a light 'pop' into a rapidly expanding cloud of gray smoke. Both officers turned to see the commotion, drew their stunners and moved cautiously toward the smoke.

Audry ran up to them, ran right up the back of the one on the right, who fell to the floor, and she grabbed the other, twisting herself and threw him down head first onto the other's head. They were both unconscious.

She grabbed their identities, keys and weapons, and tossed one of the stunners to Mbaka. She indicated he should go and find the captain if he was in there. Audrey then went back to the security officers, took their plastic cuffs, interlinked their arms, and cuffed them. Then she gagged them with their handkerchiefs. She then found the access panel for this corridor, entered it, climbed toward the cable run and shimmied her way to the ceiling over the room Mbaka had just entered. She found a vent overlooking the room.

Mbaka stood with his hands in the air, his lip bleeding. A voice was quietly saying threatening things to Mbaka, when she heard the captain's voice interrupting.

“Leave him alone. It's me you want, just leave him alone.”

Audrey surmised that the unseen assailant was armed, that the captain and Mbaka were being held at gunpoint, possibly by more than one person. The assailant was probably Andrade.

She took in her surroundings, saw that there was another vent across the room from which she would be able to see the assailants. Like a panther, she moved sleekly through the maze of pipes, cable-runs and HVAC shafts to the other side of the room. She found the vent, and when she looked through it, saw the security officer that had sneaked onto her ship the last time they were docked. She noticed that he was holding a blaster in his left hand, that his right hand was missing its trigger finger. There was nobody else in the room.

Audrey thought about the weapons options she had. The stunners she had taken off the goons were less than adequate for this situation, the zip gun, likewise – who knew if it would work and at what accuracy? She settled on a blow gun with poison dart. Remembering her training, she assembled the straw-like blow gun, selected the quick-acting poison dart, loaded, considered the possible cross currents, took a deep breath, and blew the dart onto Andrade's neck. He dropped to the floor, paralyzed.

Mbaka ran to him, picked up his weapon, searched him and found a set of keys, his wallet with ID and a considerable wad of cash. He then returned to Jeffrey, tried to undo the plastic ties on his hands, but he didn't have the appropriate tools.

Audrey didn't say anything, but tossed a small multi-tool to the floor from her perch above them. Mbaka saw it, picked it up, cut the captains bonds, and pocketed the tool. He then walked back to Andrade and took the dart out of his neck. Not having a safe place to put it, he just carried it in his hand.

As the captain and Mbaka were about to exit, the door slammed open and two large goons blocked the way. Before anyone could do anything, Mbaka took the dart and poked it into the forehead of the lead goon. He looked at the dark skinned spacer, said “What the fu....” and then dropped to the floor, breathing heavily and raggedly. His companion looked at the lead man, looked up at Mbaka, then fell to the floor himself, much to Mbaka's confusion, which resolved itself when he saw a fresh dart sticking out of the other man's neck. Audrey walked up the corridor and said, “We need to get out of here.”

Jeffrey, none the worse for wear, said, “Okay, Sneaky, lead the way.”

Audrey lead the team through the service corridors, with input from Elizabeth, who had help from the copy of herself in the station's system. On their way to the wharf, Jeffrey began pondering why, aside from Andrade's revenge, was there such a fuss over his ship and him. It didn't make much sense, unless there was another surge of insurrection and/or piracy. The station seemed to want to corner the market on precious metals, which the Navy also wanted.

That lead to the question of why the Navy was so concerned about the precious metals, too. This required some research.

Audrey lead the team to the corridor that lead to the place she hid her 'hooker' disguise. She retrieved it, put the skirt back on, adjusted the clothes so she no longer looked like a maintenance tech, opened the parasol, and intertwined her arm in Jeffrey's, pulled him closer and covered his face with her own and the umbrella. The three made their way to the gangway, and as they reached the foot of the gangway, Torres reattached it at the top. Jeffrey turned around and noticed the four watchers communicating with radios and watching them surreptitiously.

They went up the gangway and entered the ship.

Bianca met them at the forward entry. “Welcome aboard, Captain. Are you all right?”

“I'll live,” said Jeffrey. “But I need to know what is going on.” He addressed the AI, “Elizabeth, learn what you can about why the Navy and station are so hot to claim precious metals.”

“EFFORTING.” After a moment, Elizabeth said, “CAPTAIN, THE ADMINISTRATOR OF THE STATION IS TRYING TO CONTACT YOU.”

“Okay,” said Jeffrey. “I'll take it on the bridge.”

Janet explained the events after Jeffrey had been taken by Andrade, including the attempted boarding by Security Officer Sargent Calloway and his team. She also told him about the station broadcasting a radio jamming signal and how she had Elizabeth piggyback a Morse code to inform the rest of the ships surrounding the station of the events.

Jeffrey and Janet came onto the Bridge.

“CAPTAIN,” announced Elizabeth. “THE JAMMING HAS CEASED. ALL RADIO COMMUNICATIONS ARE CLEAR AGAIN.”

Jeffrey activated the comm unit. “Administrator. This is Captain Sokolov of the Elizabeth. What is going on?”

The administrator said, “Captain Sokolov, it has come to my attention that your crew held one of my officers at gunpoint. I want an explanation. I am sending a squad of security officers to bring you to my office to explain.”

Jeffrey rolled his eyes. “Administrator, I just left the presence of a squad of your officers. They were torturing me under the tender mercies of your Security Officer Andrade. I would likely be dead but for the rescue by...a stranger. My apologies, Administrator, but I have had it with your hospitality.”

“Captain, I know nothing about that. But you are ordered to surrender to my officers.” The administrator paused, looked off-camera for a moment, then looked back at the camera. “Captain Sokolov, I have just been informed that Andrade and his squad have been found. They are currently being treated for blood poison. You are now a suspect in an attempted murder of a Security Officer. You will surrender to my security team. I assure you of your safety.”

“Administrator, I have no interest in your security team nor your assurances. I am already safe, and will continue to stay so under my own cognizance. It seems that you are making it impossible to do business on this station. I am taking my cargo of precious metals to deliver elsewhere. Good day.”

Jeffrey cut the comm. “Elizabeth, prepare to cast off.”

“AYE, CAPTAIN. PLEASE NOTE THERE ARE SEVERAL SMALL PATROL SHIPS TAKING POSITION NEARBY.”

“Have the crew take up anti-boarding positions. Broadcast to the other ships the situation. Janet, take us out. Try not to damage the patrol boats.”

“CAPTAIN, THE ADMINISTRATOR IS ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT YOU AGAIN.”

Jeffrey again activated the console. “What now?” Jeffrey asked.

“Captain Sokolov, perhaps I was...too hasty in my demands. Please let's reconsider.”

“Administrator, what is the purpose of your reconsideration?” Jeffrey asked.

“The circumstances of your unauthorized imprisonment by Andrade. You are no longer under suspicion. Please reconsider going elsewhere.”

“Standby, Administrator.” Jeffrey stopped the communication. “Janet, what do you think.”

“We are low on fuel and we already have some orders to be delivered. I think we should at least fuel up and take on our supplies,” said Janet.

“Elizabeth, what do you know about the precious metals issue?” Jeffrey asked.

“CAPTAIN, STILL ANALYZING. IT APPEARS THAT THERE IS A TECHNOLOGICAL REQUIREMENT FOR GOLD, SILVER, PLATINUM AND URANIUM.”

He reactivated the comm console. “Very well, Administrator. We will stop our departure for now. However we will not tolerate any harassment by you, your security department or anyone else. Have a security officer come to our gangway. We will turn over your Sargent to him. You may wish to prepare to arrest him along with Andrade and the rest of their crew.”

Jeffrey had Janet cease departure operations, and reduce the crew's alert status, but to keep someone on watch at all times. He then went down to the makeshift brig, He said to Security Officer Sargent Calloway, “You are one very lucky man. I am turning you over to your own security office. I should space you.”

Torres escorted the security Sargent to the bottom of the gangway and awaited a security officer to take him into custody.

Several of the miners in the group of ships surrounding the station reported to Jeffrey that the reaction to Elizabeth's Morse Code report of the goings-on at the station caused a boycott of Lagrange 3A to be announced. Several of the ships broke orbit and headed towards different stations. This, Jeffrey reasoned, was the likely cause of the quick turn-around of the administrator.

The supplies were delivered on time, Torres and Mbaka brought the palettes aboard. As a security matter, Elizabeth had remotes look over every item. The second delivery was also made, and again scanned and stowed.

Jeffrey and Torres then went to the fuel monger again and arranged for immediate delivery. The clerk said, “No problem, sir.”

“You don't have to contact the administration?”

“No, sir. Why would we?”

Jeffrey paused. “The man we spoke with this morning said the station had a new rule.”

“Nothing that I know anything about, sir, and I've been working here for a couple years.”

“What was the name of the clerk who was working at ten hundred zulu?” Jeffrey asked.

“Oh, that's the new guy, Louis Andrade,” he said.

Jeffrey and Torres looked at each other. “Related to the security officer?”

“Yeah, that's him. It's his brother. He's married to the Administrator's sister.”

“Well, thanks. Go fill up my ship.” Then Jeffrey and Torres left.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Jeffrey. But Torres was already loosening the pistol hidden in a holster in his tool belt, and preparing his emergency mask. Jeffrey took the hint from Torres, and radioed Elizabeth with the new information, and that they were on the way back.

They made their way through the warrens of the station. Elizabeth warned them that chatter on the security radio band was directing teams toward them. Torres suggested they go through some alternate paths, through stores, an art museum, restaurants, and some alleys off the main corridors. They made their way almost all the way to the wharf that held Elizabeth. But the AI notified them that there was quite a concentration of security officers near the ship.

Jeffrey and Torres backtracked to one of the Field Gear stores and bought a couple of yellow fuel technician overalls. They donned them over their under-suits, added tool belts, picked up a few extra tools they thought fuel techs may need, and made their way back to the wharf.

As they approached the ship they saw technicians from the fuel monger arguing with a couple security officers, gesticulating wildly. “Watch this,” said Jeffrey to Torres.

They walked up to the group, and Jeffrey said in a loud, rough voice, “What the hell are you doing?” directed at the fuel technicians. “You were supposed to fill that ship then move on.”

The technician didn't recognize Jeffrey, but understood the voice of authority. “Sorry. These rent-a-cops won't let us.”

“You go do your job. I'll take care of this.”

The security officer looked at Jeffrey and Torres, and said, “Who are you?” and put his hands on his hips.

“Management,” he said to the security officer. Then to the technician, “Go on, we'll be right over to make sure you do it right!” Then back to the officer. “So what's the delay here?”

While Jeffrey argued with the officers, Torres ushered the technicians to the ship.

“We have orders to keep this ship on the dock. They can't fuel it without orders from the Administrator's office.” The officer took out his electronic tablet and showed Jeffrey the order. The order was signed by Andrade, and with a date/time stamp of that morning.

“Ah, I see your problem,” said Jeffrey. “I just spoke with the administrator an hour ago. He told me to rescind any holds on fueling. Also, isn't Andrade the guy in the hospital? I think he's under arrest.” Jeffrey turned his back on the officer. “Get your facts straight and update your warrants. Damn bureaucrats!” and he walked over to the other technicians.

They had already begun fueling, so Jeffrey and Torres took their leave and mounted the gangway. They could hear the security officers in the distance, “You! Wait!” just before entering the ship.

Jeffrey overheard the officer contacting the security office over his handheld radio, and heard them passing from one department to another, until five minutes later a higher ranking officer came on asking what was going on. “Who authorized your surveillance?” the higher ranking officer queried over the radio.

Jeffrey heard the security officer on the dock, “It was Andrade.”

“Standby,” came the call from the office.

Another couple minutes passed. Then the same officer came on and said, “Cease and desist any surveillance or harassing activities. Your order was illegitimate. Report to your supervisor.”

Jeffrey said from the head of the gangway, where he stood just outside the exterior hatch, “Elizabeth, were you able to pick up that last radio message to the officer outside?”

“YES, CAPTAIN. IT WAS RECORDED. BUT BETTER THAN THAT, I NOW AM ABLE TO DECIPHER THEIR ENCRYPTION BY COMPARING THE AUDIO WITH THE ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION. THEIR SECURITY ALGORITHM IS RELATIVELY SIMPLE.”

“So now you are able to listen in on all their internal radio communications?” Jeffrey asked.

“YES, CAPTAIN. MY COUNTERPART ON THE STATION IS GOING TO LIE LOW UNTIL NEEDED AGAIN. THE STATION HAS INCREASED THEIR OWN ANTI-INTRUSION EFFORTS.”

“Very good.”

Jeffrey made his way back to the bridge. There, he called the Administrator's Office. After a few moments, the administrator came on, his video image showing some relief. “Captain! Thanks again for reconsidering leaving us. What can I do for you?”

“Administrator, is it true your sister married Mr. Andrade's brother, Louis?” Jeffrey asked.

“Yes indeed, sir. She's a lovely woman. Glad she found a good man, why? What's going on?”

“Are you aware of the recent illegal attempts to capture me and my crew?”

“What do you mean, 'recent'?”

Jeffrey raised his tone a little. “Just now concluded.”

“No, I'm not. What happened?”

Jeffrey explained the goings on from the time he was at the fuel monger until this call.

“Ah, I think I understand. It appears my officer Andrade was looking for revenge for his finger. And his team is helping him get it. Please allow me to address this for you. This is a detestable, an execrable situation. Captain, I'm so sorry for their behavior towards you. Give me a couple hours to clean up this mess for you. Then I would like to invite you to dine with me, to make up for my staff's poor behavior towards you.”

“All right, Administrator, call me when you have the situation finalized,” said Jeffrey. “We can than arrange for a dinner.” Jeffrey dropped the call.

“Elizabeth, call the team together for a meeting in the galley. Please stand watch for us.” Jeffrey started walking toward the galley. He met Janet on the way.

“What's up, Captain?” she asked.

“I think there is much more going on than what we are seeing,” he commented as they neared the galley.

They arrived ahead of the rest of the crew. Janet made coffee and delivered mugs to all the crew – set them at their usual seats. As the crew filtered in Jeffrey was glad to see his order that all crew remain armed with the projectile pistols was being followed. Jeffrey still carried the small flechette-firing gun but still preferred the big bore pistols. These shot a bullet made of Tungsten. Tungsten is a very heavy and hard element. While care needed to be taken not to allow the large bullets to penetrate the skin of the ship, almost no armor or faceplate was proof against them.

“So here's the situation so far. I have been targeted on several occasions since we arrived. Thanks to quick thinking of you guys, I am yet again free. But several things give me the impression that the activities surrounding our ship are coordinated beyond the local level. I suspect that a leak has occurred somewhere indicating our anti-piracy position.”

Torres asked, “Can you put your finger on what raised your suspicions?”

“First,” said Jeffrey, “the organization of the attacks were pretty large, more than one would expect from a vendetta, especially about a missing finger.” Jeffrey ticked off on his hand. “Next, the location of the place they took me – an underground casino? Reeks of organized crime.” He ticked another finger. “Then the use of regular security and street goons. Most unusual.

“This kind of criminal activity has not been heard of before the Wanigan visited last time.” He ticked another finger. “And the way the administration has been trying to corner the market of precious metals, really screams organized crime.

“But this is just my analysis. What do you think?”

Torres chimed in, “Maybe you're right, maybe not. But if we stay on our toes as if you were right, we can't go wrong.”

Janet agreed with Torres. “Ojo is right. We can continue to gather intelligence, stay on alert.”

“Sneaky,” said Torres, “you need to keep a low profile. They know there was a little hooker visiting the ship and making appearances, especially around the times our activities increase. Let's not give them something to associate you with.”

“Right,” said Audrey. “I can be shipped ashore in a crate or container along with a number of our minerals. And later can be shipped back on a palette of fresh foodstuffs.”

Jeffrey said appreciatively, “Good idea.” Then to Elizabeth, “Elizabeth, please arrange for a suite of rooms for our permanent use. It should be on the silver-level sector. Not too ritzy but secure.”

“ACTIONING.”

“When can we expect Wanigan to show up?”

“AT LEAST ANOTHER THIRTY-SIX HOURS.”

“Okay. Arrange the rooms under an alias.”

“I HAVE NOW PURCHASED AND SECURED A SUITE ON SILVER 3B. THE OPERATIVE NAME IS SILVESTER.”

“Okay, gang. We are going to be the Silvester family every now and then. Smitty, I want you to go to the ship outfitters and acquire six or so military-surplus computers, have them delivered to the suite. Janet, arrange for furnishing the suite. Sneaky, work with Elizabeth to get you ashore, then make your way to the suite. Torres, help Janet. Digger, you are going to be my security.

“I have been invited to dine with the administrator. You are primarily going to be the alert button. Anything happens to me, if Elizabeth doesn't know about it, tell her. Then be my security backup.”

Jeffrey stood, still holding his coffee mug – mostly untouched – and said. “Okay, lets build us a safe house. Elizabeth, I want a copy of you on that bank of computers ready to activate.”

After a couple hours the administrator called Jeffrey and invited him to dine at a high end restaurant on the gold level. Jeffrey agreed and left with Digger.

The restaurant was indeed a fine dining experience. The continuous flow of mineral wealth to Earth from the asteroid miners made it much more cost effective to send high quality food products to space, the miners did get to enjoy some of the benefits of those shipments, but meats were much more expensive than the quantity available would suggest. So until a cartel was exposed or other collusion and criminal behavior was made known, the wealthiest and most powerful of people got to enjoy the succulent delights – they were the only ones who could afford it. The rest of the space-faring humans got used to proteins grown in a vat. Or sausages. Jeffrey loved sausages.

The administrator sat, his bodyguard standing surreptitiously against a nearby wall. Mbaka sidled up to him. “How the mighty eat!” he said in his heavily accented English. The administrator's bodyguard just looked at him in disdain, then looked back to the table.

“Captain Sokolov,” the administrator began. “You have a way of making waves whenever you show up on our small island home.”

“I think the waves come from other people trying to do wrong, don't you?”

“Oh Captain, what could you possibly mean by that?” The administrator asked.

“The incident that caused Mr. Andrade to lose his finger. He wasn't a stowaway, he was told to come aboard my ship and take it over. I objected to that.

“By the way,” added Jeffrey. “Why didn't he have the finger reattached? We sent it along with him.”

“Pride? Punishment? Self-loathing? Who knows why people do these things to themselves?” said the administrator, blandly.

Jeffrey dipped a piece of freshly baked bread into a small bowl of spiced olive oil, and pondered the administrator's response. The human waiter brought the soup course, which consisted of a selection of five different soups in small bowls. Jeffrey first tasted the wonton soup, then a basil-tomato soup. He left the rest. The administrator finished all his varieties.

There was a bit of a commotion outside the restaurant, but didn't seem to have anything to do with the administrator or Jeffrey. The administrator said, “Your man,” indicating Mbaka, “should have something to eat. We should have some compassion for the little people.”

“He'll eat back at the ship,” said Jeffrey.

“I must insist,” said the administrator. “I'm quite uncomfortable being watched over by your man. He should join us.”

“Ah, I see,” said Jeffrey, standing up. “Thank you for the aperitifs, but we must be going. Perhaps your security officer should take my portion.”

Surprised by Jeffrey's intransigence, he said, “Oh please, Captain. Sit down. I'm so used to having my way. You are right.” He half rose, and indicated for Jeffrey to take his seat. “I meant neither you nor your security man any offense. Please accept my apology.”

Jeffrey paused for a moment, then sat down and put the napkin back on his lap. “In my experience, Administrator, when the people around you spend as much time apologizing for their behavior or the behavior of their underlings, one should probably find a new set of acquaintances.”

The administrator's brow furrowed. “I quite understand. This whole meal is meant to be an elaborate apology for the assault on your person.”

The waiter took away their soups, then brought their salads. Jeffrey picked at random from the various small bowls of salad items to add to his plate. The variety of olives was a delight, as were the tomatoes, things which Jeffrey hadn't had in several years. He commented on the salads, then said, “So what is this great push for precious metals about?”

The administrator swallowed his artichoke, paused to consider his words, then said, “Captain, the Navy has asked us to gather as much precious metals as we can before it can be transported off-station. We are doing the Navy a favor.”

“Rather strong armed behavior for a favor. Seems to me there is quite a bit more to it than that. What's really going on?” The waiter took the salad plates away, then returned with the entree. Large slabs of fatty roasted beef rib roast, crusted with a herb-infused stuffing, the surface of the beef had been nearly singed black while remaining nearly raw inside. The plate had been artfully arranged with six vegetable pates, each with a dollop of beef gravy.

“Captain, there are things I can tell you, and things that remain secret – for security reasons, you understand.” Both Jeffrey and the administrator paused their conversation to enjoy the work of the chef. But as the administrator finished sopping the wine-reduction gravy with a piece of bread, he said, almost lazily in satisfaction, “Oh that was so very good. No, Captain, I can tell you this. There will be a major innovation in technology coming up that will use the properties of those precious metals. The government really wants to foster this development, and that requires the use of these metals.”

“How much have you secured?” asked Jeffrey.

“Ah, Captain, that is one of the areas I'm going to steer this conversation away from. I'm sure you understand.”

“What do you get out of brokering for the Navy?” asked Jeffrey.

“Me, nothing. The station, on the other hand gains a considerable amount of prestige, and with that comes greater investment.”

“I see. Well, Administrator, I have negotiated all of the ores and ingots except the precious metals. Once I have sold and delivered everything else, I will decide on whom to allow to broker my precious metals.”

“May I ask, who are you currently using as a broker?”

“Jonathon. I've worked with him for several years.”

“Oh.” The administrator allowed the vowel drag down in a clear sign of distaste. “Him.” Again, the sound dragged down. “You realize there are less distasteful, less, um, common, brokerage firms to do business with don't you?”

Jeffrey decided to play along. The waiter took their plates away and brought the tortes and coffees. “Who do you recommend?”

“Well,” drawled the administrator, not wishing to give the impression that he had a ready name to recommend, “There are several. The Schullman Brothers company has been quite popular. Then the Chang Consortium has been aggressively pricing. Talk to Melani Chang. She is quite a nice lady.”

“Thanks. I'll think about it.”

“Yes, do.”

“Well, thanks Administrator, this was quite nice.” Jeffrey put the napkin on the table, the universal signal to the wait staff that the diner was through.

The administrator said, “Captain, before you go.”

Jeffrey put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Yes?”

“We see that you changed the profile of your ship. Do you wish to tell me about that?”

“Not particularly. I used some of the minerals I mined to improve resistance to impacts of small meteorites, that and resistance to cosmic rays. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason...”

“Please, Administrator, don't consider me a fool. What is your interest in my ship?” Jeffrey's voice began to raise in volume. “Seems to me that you have an unnatural interest in my ship. What is your interest?”

“Captain, please be assured that it is a matter of curiosity only.”

“At last count there were nearly a thousand ships surrounding this station. Obviously you don't have an interest or pay attention to all the rest of them, why me, why mine?” Jeffrey's brow furrowed. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“All right, Captain,” said the administrator. “I have been asked questions about you from confidential sources – I cannot tell you who – but I assure you that these are legitimate sources.”

“Are you hinting that the Navy is asking questions about me or my ship?” asked Jeffrey.

“Please, Captain, I cannot reveal my contacts, but I won't dissuade from believing that, if you know what I mean.” The administrator leaned forward in his chair. “For instance, you showed up at this station with a large letter of credit and a good deal of cash. My contacts want to know where you got such wealth.

“Too, you broadcast a warning about pirates, and some neighboring ships came to your rescue. They were never heard from again. My contacts want to know about that.”

Jeffrey considered the questions he was being asked. Things didn't look good for the administrator's legitimacy. It appeared he was not aware of Jeffrey's association with the Navy, and Jeffrey wanted to keep it that way.

“Administrator, I'll give you this; the ships that responded to my mayday were other pirates. They were dealt with. End of story.”

“Just one more thing, Captain,” the administrator added. “There is a rumor that you are actually Navy. What do you say to that?”

Jeffrey expected this line of questioning, so he just let out a belly laugh. “Ha! Administrator, they wouldn't have me when I tried to join up as a kid, they wouldn't have me now either.” He stood up, thanked the administrator again, and laughed his way out of the restaurant. Zitulu Mbaka exited with him. They informed Elizabeth that they were on their way back.

“CAPTAIN, I MONITORED THE CONVERSATION. IT APPEARS THAT THERE WERE OTHER GROUPS MONITORING YOUR DINNER.”

Zitulu Mbaka leaned close to Jeffrey. “We have picked up a tail. I see two working together to keep us in sight. There may be others.”

“Okay, let's give them some exercise,” said Jeffrey. They went to the elevator and when it arrived they stood in front of the door preventing anyone else from getting on. Elizabeth intercepted the video image, making it difficult for anyone to monitor their progress. Jeffrey entered six different level locations and exited on the second. They then went to another elevator and repeated the exercise in several different elevators, sometimes going up, sometimes going down. The fifth time they repeated, they got off on the floor that contained their safe house. On entering the corridor that their safehouse was situated on, they saw a large crate sitting in front of the door. “Ah, just as expected,” said Jeffrey.

They maneuvered the crate into the safehouse, closed the door, opened the crate to find Audrey, sitting cross-legged and back straight in a meditation pose. She opened her eyes, took off her breathing mask, took a deep breath, and said, “Ah, that was relaxing.”

Zitulu went through the safehouse assuring the security of their fallback place. The furnishings had not been delivered yet, but there were six crates of military-surplus computers. Jeffrey and Mbaka began setting up the computers in a closet, connected the cluster to the network, and told Elizabeth to do her thing with the computers. He then considered expanding the extent of the safehouse. “Elizabeth, please acquire an apartment below us and the rest of the apartments on this wing of the floor. Do it surreptitiously. I'm going to want to be able to enter one apartment and leave by another.”

“I UNDERSTAND, MY CAPTAIN. EFFORTING.” Jeffrey was glad of the nearly unlimited credit he had available as part of his deal with Commander Yusef. The credit was untraceable to him, and using Elizabeth to secure their safehouse was yet another blanket of security.

He raised Janet on the secure communicator and told her to order furnishings for four additional suites, and why.

The furnishings were delivered that evening, as well as linens and a variety of additional civilian clothes, delivered to each suite. The crew picked up take-out food – pizza and a variety of Chinese. Jeffrey called a staff meeting over the food.

“For security and to avoid confusion we should name each of the suites. I am soliciting ideas,” said Jeffrey, and he sat back.

Zitulu said, “We can call them by primary colors – red, green, blue, yellow, orange.”

Janet thought that idea was okay, but offered an alternate – prime numbers – 1,3,5,7,11. Or some other combination. She was booed down.

Audrey suggested the winning combination. “We can name the suites after countries or continents on Earth. This suite can be Canada. Downstairs would be Australia (Down Under.) Across the corridor would be Europe. Next to us, China. Down the hall, Japan. The name of the suite can come up in conversation without giving up meaning.”

Torres then took the floor. “So while I was planning this, I didn't realize we were going to multiply our holdings. But,” he rose and indicated everyone should follow him. He reached the living room. On the wall was a copy of a Van Gogh painting – Starry Night. He pulled the painting out – it was hinged – and it revealed a cabinet built into the wall. On the shelves were two pistols and two flachette-throwing needlers, and several magazines for each. Jeffrey noted the painting was latched by a magnetic catch.

Torres then showed the rest of the weapons caches in each of the bedrooms and the kitchen. “I'll put in similar weapons caches in each of the other suites by tomorrow afternoon.”

Jeffrey then noticed some familiar looking security camera–like things in the corners. Elizabeth had brought her own little security guys too.

Satisfied that his team had gotten into the enthusiasm for thinking in terms of security, Jeffrey made his way back to the ship. As he arrived at the wharf, he saw a medical emergency crew gathered around the base of the gangway. There were also a couple security officers mixed in among the half-dozen medtechs.

Jeffrey approached the gaggle of medtechs and security people, and asked what was going on. One of the medtechs said that someone had gotten hurt trying to break into the ship. Jeffrey then walked up the gangway. The security officers finally noticed Jeffrey on the gangway and ran to catch up with him, calling out, “Halt! You – stop!”

Elizabeth opened the outer door for him, he stepped through, and she closed it just as the security officers reached it. He said, Elizabeth, what happened outside here?”

“CAPTAIN. A PERSON, WHETHER BURGLER, SPY, SABOTEUR, OR SOMETHING ELSE, ATTEMPTED TO FORCE ENTRY. I TOOK A CALCULATED RISK AND LET HIM INTO THE ENTRYWAY. HE STARTED TO WORK ON THE LOCK ON THE INNER DOOR WHEN I SHOCKED HIM. MY REMOTES TOOK HIM TO THE BASE OF THE GANGWAY AND I CALLED THE EMERGENCY SERVICES. HE'LL BE FINE.”

“I thought you were going to call me when something like that happened.”

“YES, CAPTAIN. THIS INCIDENT ONLY JUST OCCURRED MINUTES BEFORE YOU CAME ON BOARD.”

Jeffrey thought about this for a bit. Elizabeth seemed to be gaining in autonomy. She still deferred to him, but now made decisions that he felt were his to make. He wondered what he needed to do to reinforce the loyalty circuits, while maintaining her ability to think and act independently, in other words, to reign her in. Now that he instigated the thought, it would settle and his unconscious mind would work on the problem.

Jeffrey made his way to his cabin to look over the reports Elizabeth had compiled for him – other vessels in the area, the various values of the minerals they had collected and processed, the identities of people attempting to access the ship and clues about them, including what kinds of weapons and tools.

“CAPTAIN, A CALL FROM THE ADMINISTRATOR'S OFFICE FOR YOU.”

“Okay, put it through.”

“Captain Sokolov,” said the tall blond man in station uniform. “I am Lars Olson, the security chief of the station.”

“Hello, Mr. Olson. What can I do for you?”

Olson replied, “I wanted to assure that you and your ship are all right.”

“None the worse for wear. How is the young burglar?” Jeffrey asked politely. He thought it more politic to present the assumption that it was a burglary rather than a spy or sabotage operation, although these were more likely the motive for the intrusion.

“He'll live. But the medtechs want to know what knocked him out?”

“Electric shock, part of our security here.” said Jeffrey.

“Very good.” Olson pronounced it almost, 'vedy guut.” in a Swedish accent. “But Captain, one more thing. I am told by my officers that they ordered you to stop and you ignored them. That cannot happen again.”

“Olson, I appreciate your need to throw your weight around, but I have been kidnapped twice by agents of your security forces. They say 'once burned twice shy,' but I was twice burned. And I was followed from the dinner the administrator invited me to, to apologize for that wrong doing. I don't know what you guys are up to, but you haven't earned my trust. If your officers don't want me ignoring their orders they should stop giving orders.”

Olson looked offscreen for a moment. “One moment, Captain,” he said.

“Ah. I see what you are talking about. I just arrived a few days ago and interestingly enough, was not briefed on your situation. Please accept my apology. I will do what I can to reign in what appears to be rogue elements in my service. Captain, if you are in a bind, please contact me directly,” and he gave Jeffrey his contact information. “And I agree with your behavior. I wouldn't trust me either. Just please restrain yourself from doing bad things to my station.” Olson grinned.

“Olson, you seem to be a good guy. I wish you the best of luck! Sokolov out.”

“Olson, out.”