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Authors: adrian felder

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BOOK: DusktoDust_Final3
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The man turned his attention to the two unfamiliar faces.

And these must be our pilots.


Yes, sir. May I introduce you to Mr. Carpenter and Ms. Ramirez. They come highly recommended. Mr. Carpenter, Ms. Ramirez, may I present to you Mr. Titus Windham.

David reached out to shake the man

s hand, at the same time trying to conceal his surprise.

It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Windham. I

ve heard a lot about you.


All good, I hope,

Windham replied flatly. David didn

t respond. This was Titus Windham, grandson of Heratio Windham, founder of the Windham Corporation. Titus had been the owner and chief executive officer of Windcorp for the past thirty years. Hardly anything David had heard about the man was good.

Windham shook Alana

s hand and then addressed the two of them.

We have a lot to talk about, but first I have a couple of things I have to deal with. Mr. Black, would you please show them to my office, where they can wait. I will be along as soon as I can.

Mr. Black nodded.

Yes, sir.


Excellent.

With that Titus Windham left them, returning to the table at the center of the room.

David was still a little stunned by the development that had just occurred. As Mr. Black led them to Mr. Windham

s office, his brain was working overtime to process it all. It had been one thing for their contact, Mr. Black, to openly admit his association with Windcorp. That had been a warning signal for him and Alana. But for the owner of Windcorp to personally greet a pair of smugglers and then ask them to wait in his office? That was unheard of. Massive alarm bells were now going off in David

s head.

Mr. Black led them to a set of hinged wooden double doors, the kind found in old mansions on Earth. The doors were ornate, with large brass handles and the image of an early twentieth century oil well carved into them. To the right of the doors was a desk with an elderly woman sitting behind it. Mr. Black walked up to her.


It is nice to see you again, Felicia. Mr. Windham wanted me to have Mr. Carpenter and Ms. Ramirez wait for him in his office.

Felicia barely looked up from the paperwork she was working on. She reached out and hit a button on the desk and the wooden doors swung open.

Mr. Black motioned David and Alana in.

Please make yourselves at home. There is coffee and refreshments at the bar. Mr. Windham will be in shortly.

With that he left them and the doors closed.

Windham

s office was exquisite. The walls were adorned with dozens of pictures and artifacts from civilizations past. The man was clearly a student of history. There were pictures of him at the Pyramids of Giza, the Great Wall of China, even on the moon standing next to the United States flag. He had African masks and a statue of Buddha in display cases. If David didn

t know any better he would have taken Windham for an upstanding business owner.

He looked at Alana. He could tell she was holding something in. The Windham development was definitely not sitting right with her. They had a plan, and this might disrupt it. But they definitely couldn

t talk about it here. There was no telling how many listening and recording devices there were in the office.

They waited. It was nearly an hour before the doors to the office opened. When they did, Titus Windham walked in. The doors shut behind him..


Sorry, running an intragalactic corporation makes me one of the least timely individuals around.

He took a seat in the large chair at his mahogany desk.

I will bring Mr. Black in here shortly, but first I wanted to have a chat with the two of you.

David didn

t like the sound of that.

Mr. Windham, we are honored that you hired us, but can you tell us-


I

m sure you have more than a few questions, Mr. Carpenter. I definitely would if I were in your shoes. However, let

s not get down to business just yet.

Windham stood up and walked over to a cabinet and opened it to reveal a wet bar.

Can I get either of you something to drink?

David looked at Alana and then back at Windham.

That

s okay. We

re fine.

Damn the man

s sensibility. David wasn

t going to drink just because it might offend his employer.

Windham made a face as if he was disappointed. Then he poured himself two fingers of what looked like some very expensive scotch. When he was done he took the glass and returned to his desk.

Now I

m going to tell you a story. Do either of you know what is engraved on the other side of that door?


A well?

Alana said.


An oil well, Ms. Ramirez,

Windham corrected.

Back in the twentieth century, these machines dotted the landscape of Earth, sucking the black blood that is oil out of the planet. But what is the history of this substance? We think that oil was only a thing of the recent past, used to fuel the automobile and ships and industry for a time. But did you know that the Persians, Greeks, Romans, even the Babylonians mined what we know as ground oil? They used it for lighting and in medicine among other things. China mined oil as long ago as the fourth century, digging wells over eight hundred feet deep. If oil has such a long history, then why do we associate it so much with the twentieth and twenty-first centuries?

Windham paused but David and Alana said nothing.

It is because humanity did not know what it had discovered yet. It did not know how to harness the power of this natural resource and force it to do its bidding. But then came the invention of the combustion engine and suddenly no one could have enough oil. It was black gold. Industry boomed. Civilization thrived. People credited the prosperity of this age to great minds, leaders, inventors, scientists. As with all our history, only a human could be responsible for this accomplishment for humanity.

David didn

t know where this was going. What did he care about oil, a forgotten substance from a different world? But he didn

t stop Windham. He didn

t dare interrupt the man.

I have a different theory,

he continued.

I believe that oil deserves the credit. For without it, the prosperity of the turn of the millennia would never have been possible.


I keep the image of an oil well on those doors to remind me of how essential resources are to the advancement of humanity. Without oil, the combustion engine would have never been developed. And likewise, without Klyston, the hyperdrive would have never been developed. Without gunpowder, the gun. The examples go on.

Gunpowder in itself was an advancement
, David thought but held his tongue.


I also keep the image there to remind me that no resource is unlimited. The oil wells eventually dried up. But human ingenuity prevailed. Concentrated electrical stores, nuclear fusion, hydrogen. This all filled the void that oil left. And eventually we discovered Klyston here on Prospect. Like oil, humanity didn

t know what it had found. Thankfully, it didn

t take us millennia to figure out how to use the damn stuff, but scientists spent a decade or so experimenting before they developed the hyperdrive.


There is a cycle to resources. Klyston will eventually run out. Maybe not in your or my lifetime, but it will. I am president of a company that produces nearly half of the galaxy

s Klyston and I am under no illusions. But humanity will carry on. We will discover another resource and harness its power. Who knows, maybe we have already found it, but like oil, we just don

t know it yet.

Windham paused and David was pretty sure he was done with his tangent, whatever the purpose was.

Very interesting,

was all he could think to say.

Windham laughed.

I assume you are wondering why I told you all that.


A little,

David said, still confused. The look on Alana

s face echoed his words.

Windham leaned back in his chair.

Mr. Carpenter, Windcorp is known mainly for its Klyston production.

Among other things
, David thought.

But we do support other industries. I

m sure you are wondering why a corporation that owns its own fleet of starships has hired a pair of pilots. I

m sure the first thing that went through your head was that you would be hauling something less than legitimate.

David was tired of this. He knew that Windham had a good idea of what the corporation

s reputation was like. What was the point of beating around the bush?

Mr. Windham, there have been many things going through my head, not the least of which being what could possibly be so important for
the
head
of the most notorious corporation in the galaxy to take a personal interest in?

David had just unzipped his fly. Now he might as well pull his pants down.

So can we cut the crap? My partner and I have travelled half way across this planet, ducking the Peaks everywhere we go. The experience has been less than enjoyable. And all I want now is to know why we have stuck our necks out on the chopping block? I want some answers!

Mr. Windham met David

s gaze. Despite the smuggler

s minor explosion, the business tycoon seemed at ease.

Are you done?

David didn

t say a word.

Because if you are I can tell you what you want to know.

He didn

t wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a tablet from his desk.

This is what you will be flying, Canaveral class as you were told in the contract.

David took a deep breath, switching his mind into business mode, and then accepted the tablet from Mr. Windham. He started scanning through the ship schematics that were displayed.

A Saab Corsair?

he stated in disgust.

This thing is ancient.


It

s heavily modified,

Windham replied.

She can make the run, as long as she has the right pilot.

Alana looked over David

s shoulder.

Modified is an understatement. This thing has more weapons than an orbital station. Four chain guns.
Six
missile pods. An ion cannon.

She looked up at her employer.

Mr. Windham, you hired us for a run, not to take on the whole Peacekeeper fleet.


Ms. Ramirez, in my line of work you learn that over-precaution is the only type of precaution.

David continued to read through the documents. Other than an abnormally large amount of weaponry, the ship seemed on the up and up. It was what he had expected. Canaveral class, requiring two crewman. The Corsair was originally a personnel transport with bunk space for fifty passengers. But much of the passenger space on this ship had been converted to cargo space. And according to the manifest the cargo was


Sealed?


Excuse me?

Windham said.


The cargo,

David said turning the tablet for the man to read.

All it says here is that it is sealed. What is it?

Windham took the tablet back and placed it on the desk. He knew what it said.

Mr. Carpenter, I am paying you a very large sum of money to complete a relatively simple task. Consider some of this payment as not just paying for your labor, but for your

discretion.

David smiled.

Mr. Windham, I don

t care how high the notes are. We will only work for you if we know what we are hauling.


Your conscious can remain pure, my friends. I

ve read your files. I know you have standards. I assure you that the cargo is not slaves, or drugs for that matter.


That

s not the point,

David objected.

Windham held up his hand.

No, I

m afraid that is the point. Now you can either agree to these terms or we will have to renegotiate them. And if we do that I can assure you, the deal will not be in your favor.

For the first time a menacing tone crept into Titus Windham

s voice. David quickly understood that renegotiating would be a poor life choice.

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