Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (70 page)

              Tamara blinked.  “Several thousand tons?”

              Galina nodded.  “I can have the communication played back for you if you like.”

              “I’ll check it out in a minute.  Did they say what they wanted it for?”

              “The company that wants it is called EDI Transworks, Limited,” Galina told her.  “Apparently there’s been some sort of business infighting over which out of three different companies can win a government contract to build a hydroelectric plant in Tik’nevi province.  Apparently EDI is looking to win, and so they want to get the materials they’d need to get this project.”

              “And they want to get them from us?” she asked.  “They can’t get them locally?”

              “Apparently, they seem to think that by buying from us, it will raise their prestige.”  Galina seemed amused by this.  “And they don’t seem to care about how much it will cost to bring the materials down from orbit.”

              Tamara pursed her lips.  “I hadn’t planned for this.  I suppose I should have.  I had just assumed that any serious business we’d be doing would be up here in space, not down on the planet.  Our one shuttle isn’t going to be enough to transship what they want down to the surface.”

              Galina chuckled.  “You’ve bought a ship before.  Buy another.”

              Tamara grimaced.  “We don’t have the revenue for that,” she admitted.  “And I can’t go to the investors with my hand out.  I suspect they won’t have any sympathy or any money for me.”

              “I see,” Galina replied.  “Thankfully, decisions like that are far above what a simple ship’s captain has to deal with.”

              She smiled.  “In this case.  If we were using this ship for its intended function, you most certainly would be involved in this kind of decision.”  She looked at the lupusan captain carefully.  “And, if you are interested, I can get you more involved.”  Galina looked at her.  “I mean it.  You have a great deal of experience with local politics, and more with the locals than I do.  I don’t know how much you actually interacted with anyone here, but it’s certainly more than I have.”

              The lupusan was just staring at her.  “Why would you even ask this?  I thought you just wanted me to run this ship.”

              Tamara nodded.  “I do,” she said.  “It takes that responsibility off my plate, freeing me up for other matters.  But I’m an engineer.  I can run an operation like this, but I don’t have much experience in trade.”

              “And I do?” Galina asked, her ears flattening.  “I was a hospital administrator and then a commander of a medical ship.”

              Tamara was suddenly aware that everyone on the bridge was either very scrupulously attending to their duties, pretending to be completely unaware that she and the Captain were having a discussion about Great and Important Things out in the open on the bridge, or else were staring in rapt attention.  “Perhaps we can discuss this in private, Captain?” she asked, glancing around at the crew.

              Galina sighed.  “Of course, Commander.”  She stood.  “Iksa, you have the bridge.”

              “Yes, Captain,” the woman seated at the helm replied. 

              They adjourned to Galina’s stateroom.  As the captain of the ship, she received the biggest of all of the staterooms, which wasn’t saying much.  It was perhaps a meter or so wider than Tamara’s and about three meters longer, but any luxury on a cargo ship was to be appreciated.  Her quarters were spartan, with only a single photograph on the desk beside the bunk to decorate the compartment.  Tamara pulled up her HUD after a quick glance, bringing an image of the picture up on the right side of her vision.  It was a group of eleven lupusan, Galina among them, standing on a rocky ledge over a sea of sand.  They were dressed in robes, most of them had their hoods raised, probably to protect them from the sun or the wind.  It was difficult to determine their expressions, based on the picture, but her implants helpfully provided what she needed.  They all looked elated, yet strangely serene.  Perhaps they had gone on some pilgrimage, or retreat.  Tamara wasn’t sure.

              Galina saw her looking at the picture, but didn’t comment on that.  Instead, she turned and sat herself on the edge of her bunk, motioning for the human woman to sit in the desk chair.  Tamara sat down, getting comfortable and crossed her legs.  “So?” Galina asked.  “You wanted to talk in private.  Here we are.”

              Tamara nodded politely.  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Galina.  Truly I didn’t.  I was just thinking that perhaps you and I could discuss strategy in private instead of standing on the bridge.”

              The lupusan captain looked slightly mollified by this.  “Very well.  But you’re an engineer and I’m a hospital administrator, a doctor in a past life.  Neither of us are all that experienced in free market trading, if that’s indeed what we’re engaged in here.  I think that the offer is genuine, with a minimal amount of trying to screw us over,” she admitted.  “They want the materials that we can provide, I think because they think we can get the goods to them cheaper and with less fuss than the regular suppliers on the planet.”

              Tamara nodded slowly.  “That’s very likely, but I think that they’re looking to lowball us on the price.  It will be expensive to send a shuttle up and down through atmo to drop off the shipment.  A lot in fuel costs.”

              Galina nodded.  “So we’ll add that in.  But I think this is a good deal to take.”

              “I do too,” she said.  “But I think we’ll need to proceed carefully.  It’s a big order.  And, I think we need to get another shuttle on the ramp as well.  One simply isn’t enough and neither the tugs nor the
Samarkand
can go into atmosphere.”

              Galina flicked her ears.  “How many ships can we fit into the boat bay?”

              “Right now we’ve got the shuttle, the two tugs and my fighter.  The other fighters are sitting in the cargo bay, so they don’t count.  I think we could comfortably squeeze one more shuttle of the same size as the one we have and then maybe two smaller shuttlepods, meant for personnel only.”  Tamara uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, elbows on knees.  “Could carry four to six passengers with a single pilot.”

              Galina snorted.  “That doesn’t sound terribly useful, the shuttlepods, I mean.  Any trips to the orbital or to the surface would probably be better if we could bring a load of cargo in addition to passengers or crew on liberty.”

              Tamara grimaced.  “You’re probably right about that.  I’ll have to see about parking my fighter in the main bay until we can get a better place to store it.”

              “Why do you keep that thing, anyway?” Galina asked.  “It doesn’t seem very useful.”

              Tamara grinned.  “Using just that very starfighter and the
Grania Estelle
’s laser cannons, we fought off six hostile starfighters that tried to attack us back at the Hecate system.”

              “All right, so it isn’t just an item of vanity,” Galina conceded.  “But… well, it’s taking up valuable space right now.”

              “Well, once we get some sort of facility built, we can transfer the tugs and the fighters over there and free up space on the ship.  I’d like to keep my fighter here, though.  It won’t offer a huge amount of protection, but I’ll feel better if we had it.”

              Galina stared at her for a moment, then shrugged.  “Well, you’re right.  After what happened at Ulla-tran and what I was afraid was going to happen here when their convoy and warships showed up, I think perhaps we do need some protection.  You can keep the starfighter there for now.  But you’re right, we do need at least one more cargo shuttle.  In fact, can we park the tugs in the cargo bay?”

              Tamara pursed her lips.  “No.  I mean, yes, there’s room but it isn’t practical to use up all the space parking ships.”  She paused and tapped her finger against her lips.  “Actually, let me check on something.”  She pulled out her datapad and punched up a few commands.  “Yes, that might work.  Okay.  So I’ll get with my team and we can see about building a semi-permanent lock or cradle that we can use to secure the tugs to the outside of the ship, attached right to the external lateral airlocks, one on each side of the ship to keep it all trimmed out.”

              “What about maintenance and refueling?” Galina asked.

              “We can do a small ship rodeo in the boat bay when that comes up,” Tamara said.  “And we can use the shuttles as refueling ships for the tugs.  They have the tanker hookups already built in.”  Then she waved one hand dismissively.  “All right, we’re getting off track here.  I think we should take this contract.  What are they paying?”  Galina gave a number.  “Nice.  I think we can work with that,” she said with a smile.  “I’ll give them a call.”

              “You look pleased.”

              “I am,” Tamara replied.  “Very.  A contract this big means that there will be more.  Maybe not from the same people, but certainly from others.”  She nodded in satisfaction.  “And this is definitely a good start.”

              “I don’t think I like what I’m hearing about these outlanders,” Hyacinth Cresswell said to the others in the room, some three weeks later.  She had gathered a small group at one of the very plush VIP conference rooms on level two.  The rooms were furnished with overstuffed leather chairs, couches, actual wooden tables with a mix of actual physical pieces of artwork and holo projectors around the room. 

              A server stepped over to her, delivering a tray with her glass of brandy, which she accepted without a word.  The man didn’t reply, once she’d taken the drink, he simply stepped away, walking to the actual wooden bar that had been shipped up to the orbital at great expense.  She wasn’t concerned about the staff her talking out of turn, they were well paid enough to be completely discreet.  Besides, if any of them
did
start spilling secrets from clandestine meetings like this one, Cresswell would have orbital security officers in here asking questions in under a minute flat.  Executives from all over the planet used these conference rooms for their meetings and it paid for the staff and the management to keep their lips sealed.  In fact, extra gratuity
was
paid to make sure that they stayed sealed.

              “I don’t like anything I hear about the outsiders, Hyacinth,” Kly answered in his wheezing, nasal voice.  He had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, which he gestured with.  He took a gulp and drained it, setting it down on the table.  Almost before he had pulled back his hand the server was there, refilling his glass.  “Those uppity bastards have just been throwing money around all over.”

              “Oh, stop being so dramatic, Kly,” Cresswell told him with a scowl.  “The money they’ve been ‘throwing around’ has been going to pay for things with local businesses.  I’ve never seen anything like this.  Ten different businesses have received unprecedented levels of goods from these people, mostly metals and other materials from the asteroid belt.  There’s also helium 3 fuel coming in to the orbital here as well as to a few people down on the planet.”

              Kly looked over at her.  “There’s been a boom in the local economy.  In barely three months, we’re showing several businesses, almost a dozen, with record profits.  Local industry is on the rise and the citizens love these pricks.”

              “Why wouldn’t they?” a second man asked, slouching slightly in his chair, drumming his fingers on the leather arm.  He, like the others, was dressed in an expensive suit, his a blue pinstripe.  “They’re making some serious progress in this system.  They’re doing something.  Something tangible that the mob can see and touch.  Local businesses are actually building things, not barely scraping by.”  He looked to the others.  “And don’t tell me that you yourselves aren’t affected by this.  I know both of you have been getting your hooks into some of those businesses planetside.”  Cresswell didn’t respond, but Kly at least had the lack of control enough to look guilty at that comment.  “Your own profits are on the rise, so what’s the problem?”

              “The problem,” Cresswell shot back irritably, “Is that these outsiders aren’t beholden to anyone.  They don’t seem to care who they do business with, whose plans or interests they’re trampling all over.”

              “Oh stop whining, Hyacinth,” the other man replied.  “You’re just pissed off because the people in Yakavetta province are suddenly making product and making money.”

              Hyacinth glowered at him.  She didn’t respond because there really wasn’t anything she could say.  It was common knowledge that her ex-husband had come from Yakavetta, from a machinist’s family, peddling his family’s aircars to anyone who would buy.  But then there had been an embarrassing incident involving the younger daughter of one of the shipping corporate heads, which ended up screwing a business deal Hyacinth had spent weeks putting together.  She ended up losing almost twenty million in that deal, her own credibility had been damaged by her husband’s infidelity and she’d lost two different contacts because of it.  She’d been the laughingstock of Yakavetta province and had vowed that they’d pay for the humiliation. 

              She had put her considerable assets into burying that province.  She’d blackballed a few businesses, had another few investigated for corruption and even had a few others arrested by Planetary Security.  In the period of just three months, she had dropped Yakavetta Province down from a thriving locale to what amounted to a bombed-out slum.  The roads were cracked, businesses were shut down, locales were abandoned.  Her husband, of course, was gone; she divorced him that same day.  And of course, she made sure that he was completely ruined.  As a businessman and as a man.