Star Risk - 01 Star Risk, Ltd (28 page)

"This is diamond," Riss said. "A pipe. It goes� I don't know how deep. Normally a diamond pipe, which happens in the heart of a planet, with heat and pressure, is rock with a bunch of diamonds in it. This� at least this what we can see� is one great big frigging rock."

"Come on," Goodnight said. He reached out, ran his fingers around the cropping. "You mean from here to here?"

"And who knows how deep," Riss said, her voice dreamy.

"You mean we're rich?"

"I mean somebody's rich. Note that somebody, singular. And in the female gender."

"How rich?" Goodnight asked.

"I don't know. Let's cut this rock out, and go on back to the ship. I think I need a drink."

"I still don't believe it," Chas Goodnight said. The chunk of crystal sat between them on the Busted's chart table. There was a bit of a gleam to it now that it'd been run through an ultrasonic cleaner, but Goodnight wouldn't have bothered to pick it up if he'd tripped over it. It weighed a bit more than half a kilogram.

"So what do we have?" he asked.

Riss hit sensors on a pad, shook her head, tried again.

"According to what I keep coming up with, that makes this rock, uncut, about three thousand carats. Not the biggest diamond that's ever been found, but sure as hell one of the top ten."

"Yow," Goodnight said reverently. "So we don't need Transkootenay's credits. We can tell my brother to sit on his job, and go back to Trimalchio and be rich, rich, rich."

"What, might I inquire," Riss asked in a silky voice, "is this we shit? I'm the one who found it."

"But we're partners?"

"You got anything in writing?" she asked. "Ah, yes. To be rich, rich, rich.

"I remember, back when I was starving on Trimalchio, somebody left a holo on in one of the canalside restaurants, and I flipped through it. It was set on some for-sale service, and there was this island, complete with palace and servants.

"Just right for my declining years."

"Boy," Goodnight said. "Talk about loyalty."

"And who was going to run out on us back on Puchert if we hadn't booby-trapped his fallback ID?"

"That was different," Goodnight said. "Plus you aren't supposed to know about that."

"Right, different." Riss patted Goodnight. "When are you going to realize we know everything, absolutely everything about you?"

Goodnight flushed.

Riss picked up the crystal, juggled it, shook her head.

"You know, everybody in my damned life has been taking advantage of my stupid sense of loyalty. Star Risk is in a noble tradition.

"I guess we better abort for a bit, and run this crystal back to Sheol, and hide it somewhere.

"Maybe with King. I'm not sure how far I trust Freddie."

"Or with Grok," Goodnight said. "He doesn't seem to care much about credits."

"Maybe," Riss said. "This sure is a good backup against having to go back to Desolation Row."

"After we take it back to the Boop," Goodnight said, "what'll happen then?"

"I guess," Riss said slowly, "we'll go back to playing miner, and working that claim, and eventually nail Murgatroyd. Or he'll nail us."

"No. I meant to that chunk of diamond."

"Probably� when the time is right� we'll fence it to one of your jeweler friends. They'll cut it, work it, and, most likely, hide it somewhere until the time is right."

"Huh?"

"There's a lot more diamonds out there than show up in Tiffany's," Riss said. "Hell, you're the jewel thief. You ought to know that the big diamond guys sit on their rocks to make sure the value stays high."

"Yeah," Goodnight said. "Sorry. My mind's a little fuddled."

"Your mind," Riss said. "But before it gets worse, I'll give this damned thing a name. Great big hunkers of diamonds always seem to have names.

"This is going to be the Kinnison."

"Why that name?"

"Something I read," Riss said. "The same romance that gave me Murgatroyd's name. Which seems to be bringing us luck."

Goodnight didn't reply, but gave her a curious look and went to the ship controls.

"I dreamed," Grok said dreamily, "of a ruby the size of a pigeon's egg�"

"What?" Goodnight looked at him irritatedly.

"Never mind," the hulking alien said. "Now Star Risk can repay my investment� and we can, if we wish, tell Reg Goodnight and Transkootenay to go examine their entrails."

"Uh, aren't we forgetting something?" King said. "By rights, this rock is M'chel's."

"Never mind," Riss said, a bit tiredly. "Chas wore me down on the trek back here to Mfir from the asteroids."

"That is what I most appreciate," Friedrich said. "A person whose vision extends beyond dreams of her own wealth."

"How much is it worth, anyway?" Grok asked.

"I don't know," Goodnight said. "It's the biggest gem I've ever seen, outside of holos, and my own larcenous visions. Millions to a museum, I'd think. More to a collector. Still more if we can find a collector who thinks it's hot."

"Technically, it is," King said. "Or at least a part of it belongs to the Foley Systems, given standard mining grants."

"I do not think we should advertise our� M'chel's, rather� acquisition," Baldur said. "It now is clear that Murgatroyd is part of the system's shadow government, or at least Mar Trac is.

"Which development suggests what is going on, with all these ships and raiders zooming about, and why someone is willing to compensate them.

"The explanation is quite simple, and I should have thought of it before. Consider: Transkootenay and the miners get run out by Murgatroyd and his raiders. The Foley System will, of course, cancel their agreement with Transkootenay.

"Murgatroyd then surfaces, and requests permission to go mining, using some sort of legal, clean cover corporation. That permission is granted by someone in league with them, and with the party out of power.

"That, in turn, funds the next election, which, the Foley System being parliamentarian, should be called for as soon as possible.

"The party on the outside spends money as if they have bottomless pockets, which, in a sense, they would.

"Very handily, then, we have a new party in power, one linked at the neck with Murgatroyd, which would suggest that the Foley System's government, which appears to me to be no more than averagely corrupt, will become as corrupt as� as�"

"Trimalchio?" King suggested.

"A good comparison," Baldur said.

"Which brings up another question," Goodnight said. "Since we're just passing honest, do we want to try to get in touch with Murgatroyd, and double-cross Transkootenay?"

"Your own brother?" Riss asked, a bit incredulous.

"My brother has a rare ability to land on his feet," Goodnight said. "Besides, if that's the option, we can tip him in the wink in time, and make it his idea."

"That is an interesting concept," Baldur said. "If we get in bed with Murgatroyd and, say, promise that we shall stumble about ineffectually for a time, until discharged, will Murgatroyd make us an honest deal? I.e., will everyone stay corrupted?"

"No," King said flatly. "You're forgetting Cerberus."

Baldur drooped a little. "Yes. Yes I am. Most likely, they have already made an arrangement such as I outlined with Murgatroyd for them to come aboard sometime around the election I have posited.

"All that would be accomplished if we did as we are discussing would most likely be the delivery of another bomb."

"I don't like anything that's been talked about," Riss said, keeping her voice very even. "What about the option of skating out of this whole deal with my� oh, hell, it might as well be our� rock, and looking for another gig?"

Grok started to say something, looked closely at Riss.

"You don't like that idea."

"I don't," Riss said, and let her building anger show. "I don't like being run off of something I haven't finished. Especially when there's a few bodies, like L.C. Doe's, that wouldn't stay buried in my mind if we did."

"You're a damn romantic!" Goodnight said.

"Whatever," Riss said.

"I don't like that, either," King said. "But since I'm an employee, I'll go with the majority."

"We stay," Riss said.

Grok thought. "It might be harder to get a job without having accomplished this one with bells and bugles, might it not?"

"It might," Baldur conceded. "I shall vote to stay on the job."

"I vote the same," Grok said.

"Aw hell," Goodnight said. "You guys did pull my ass out of a crack. I'll stick around."

"Then it's unanimous," Riss said.

"I suppose so," Baldur said. "Which means you and Chas should get back out to working your claim, and going wherever that leads you."

"Since nobody's got another option�" Goodnight said, letting his voice trail off. "Maybe we can stir things up, plant a bug on whoever and whatever responds, and follow-my-leader back to the baddies."

"I agree," Riss said. "Right now, the only way into the heart of this mess appears to be nailing that damned cruiser. And I'd like to find out where it's based, so we can do more than just stomp one snake.

"It's a pity we can't just send a bullet through this Mar Trac. But that'd mean we have no links at all to Murgatroyd.

"Let's go for the slow, sweaty, and bloody."

"I also have some things that are worth investigating here on Mfir," King said.

"In the meantime, where do we stash my rock?" Riss said. "I certainly don't trust any bank around here. And I don't much like the idea of leaving it here on the Boop, in case somebody starts tossing air-to-surface missiles around."

"Why, in plain sight, of course," King said. "We rent a locker at Miner's Rest, wrap the diamond in an old shipsuit, and no one will ever look."

"All right, then," von Baldur said. "Let us go back to war."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FORTY-NINE � ^ � An N-space transmission, coded with one-time-only pad:

ADVISE ALL PERSONNEL STRRSK TO MOUNT UNDERCOVER OP. NO DATA ON SPECIFIC TARGET BUT OBVIOUS BASE THULE AND HEAVY HITTER. OP S/B REPORTED AND TERMINATED ASAP. SUCCESS WILL BE NEAR LAST STRAW FOR TRANSKOOT. PREPARE ALL UNITS FOR TERMINAL OP AS PLANNED ONCE STRRSK TAKEN OUT.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FIFTY � ^ � Now, if we were good, honest, straightforward people, we'd hie our little butts back out to that stupid rock that's our stupid claim, sweat our balls off to get some rocks so we can then hie our little butts over to this other rock named 47 Alpha, flash said little butts around as big spenders until whoever's running this hyah protection scheme, who's reporting to Murgatroyd, makes himself known, and we then do something terribly intellectual and heroic that'll lead us to Murgatroyd's Home Base, where he slash she sits, curling his slash her mustachios," Goodnight said. "Right?"

"I don't believe you managed that in one breath," Riss said.

"Because my drugs are pure�" Goodnight said.

"How-someever," he continued, "since we are not repeat not good, honest, nor straightforward, I have a slight alternate on the above plan."

"Remembering that above plan was yours from the get-go," M'chel said, "what brilliances do you propose?"

"A very minor� pun intended� one," Goodnight said. "Which is to the part of the plan wot suggests hard, backbreaking, morally admirable work digging said chunks of ore from our damnable rock.

"Instead, what I've done is go to my loveable little brother, and gotten him to donate six tons of the highest grade ore� a good, solid eight hundred-plus on the solidometer.

"No muss, no dirty paws, and off we go to 47 Alpha, and continue the mission.

"Right?"

M'chel thought about it.

"Why not?" she said. "I'm as bored with breaking up rocks as you are."

"Four Seven Alpha� uh, Advisory," Goodnight said. "This is Busted. Inbound, arrival time about one-four minutes. Request docking instructions, over."

It took seven calls before there was a response on the com.

"This is Four Seven Alpha Advisory," a woman's voice answered. "Be advised this is an advisory only. We do not, repeat do not, give instructions. Clear to dock where you think it's safe. Over."

"I think," Goodnight told M'chel, "we've definitely wandered beyond the realm of Alliance regulation."

Forty Seven Alpha, being a temporary, haphazard station, meant only to survive until available mineral resources were played out, was somewhere beyond a mess.

It sprawled across an irregular asteroid shaped like a spread, most-leprous palm, with fingers jutting here and there. Spiked, tied, or cabled to the rock were various buildings, whose sole requirement was that they be fairly airtight.

Hitched to the central rock were mining and ore-carrying ships, some purpose built, more converts, either home or factory built, everything from huge ex-warships bought for a credit a ton to passenger ships changing economies, styles, or efficiencies had put out of service to a scattering of former in-system yachts.

Completing the m�nge was one very strange bulbous ship painted red, green, and yellow, with ornate lettering on either side:

THE WEST BANDORF YACHTING AND DRINKING CLUB

Little "taxis," no more than steel or alloy frames with some sort of reaction drive bolted to the rear arced here and there. Few of their builders had bothered to enclose the frame, or pressurize them, and space-suited passengers and freight dangled here and there inside the "birdcases."

Goodnight braked the Busted, judiciously used steering rockets to stabilize the ship, shut down the drive.

Both he and Riss wore space suits, the helmets beside them.

"Now, let's anchor this turd to something, and go sell some high-grade."

"Wrong. After we tie this barge up, we find a hotel, or whatever these people call a hotel," Riss said. "A bath. With real water, and I don't give a damn what it costs. It'll give us a chance to establish a reputation as go-for-broke, spend-it-all, drink-it-up, wild and foolish miners."

Goodnight glanced down at his armpit.

"That might not be that bad an idea," he said. "I have this feeling that if I wasn't used to smelling me, I might think me came out of a slightly used shitter."