The Rings of Haven (12 page)

“Volander, Harvester. Requesting permission for departure,”
Josh’s voice crackled over the comms.

Marcus smiled. “Good boy.”

* * *

As they got farther away from the city, the farms became more spread out, with greater amounts of undeveloped space between them. Eventually, they turned off on a small side road that led into a canyon of sorts. It was about a hundred meters long and forty meters across, and it looked like a large trench.

“What is this place?” Nathan asked.

“Home,” Tug laughed.

“No, I mean how did it get this way?”

“As best I can tell, it’s a large sinkhole.”

“You’re kidding?”

“There are quite a few of them scattered all over this moon,” Tug told him. “Most people think it has something to do with the way this moon was reformed. In order to thicken the atmosphere, they pulled a lot of moisture out of subsurface aquifers, many of which were originally frozen. A few people have even put a roof over the smaller ones and created their own little habitats inside. But mine is a bit large for that.”

They drove down into the sinkhole along a road cut into one side. There were long greenhouses built along each side, with small storage buildings in between each one. As they made their way through the middle of the compound, they could see stacks of molo, all cut and bailed, ready to be sold at market.

“Is that all molo?” Nathan asked.

“Yes. Fate smiled on us both this day. This was all due to be delivered to another buyer. But they backed out at the last moment. Had you not come along, I would’ve had to prep and dehydrate all of this in order to preserve it. To avoid all of that extra work, I am willing to give you an excellent deal on this batch.”

“Where did you grow all of this?”

“Here, before the harvest, the molo covered the ground from wall to wall. The bottom of this sinkhole has a higher moisture content than the ground above. The molo grows denser and more quickly here than in most places.”

“How long does it take to grow?”

“Only a few weeks.”

“Damn,” Jessica exclaimed. “It’s a fungus factory.”

The vehicle pulled to the far end of the sinkhole, coming to a stop in front of a large building situated in the middle of the back wall. The building, which Nathan assumed was the main residence, was connected to another building directly behind it, which in turn was connected via tunnels on either side to the rows of greenhouses wrapping around the compound. From the looks of the layout, Nathan figured the residents could probably go the entire dark season without ever going outside.

“This is it,” Tug announced as the vehicle stopped.

As they climbed down off the vehicle, a young girl and a woman several years younger than Tug came out of the main house to greet them. The woman looked wary of the strangers, the young girl only curious. The woman squinted, trying to see the faces of the strangers that had come home with her husband.

“It’s okay, Ranni. These people have come to buy our molo.”

Jessica’s hand immediately moved inside her cloak to grab her sidearm, as light reflected off something along side of the woman.

Nathan noticed Jessica’s reaction. “What is it?” he whispered.

“She’s armed.”

“Wait,” Nathan warned. “Maybe she’s just being cautious.”

Nathan watched as Tug approached his wife, followed by Jalea. After a few steps, both of them came out of the amber glare of the low afternoon sun and into the cleaner illumination cast by the house lights, making her better able to see their faces. The woman suddenly began to relax, laying a large energy weapon against the wall behind her as her daughter left her side and ran to her approaching father. Jessica’s hand eased off her hidden sidearm, withdrawing her empty hand from her cloak.

“Papa!” the girl squealed as she jumped into his outstretched arms. He scooped her up and hugged her, kissing her cheek repeatedly. “What did you bring me, Papa?”

He set her back down and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of candy. “Your favorite,” he said, handing her the candy.

“Thank you, Papa,” the little girl said as she took the candy.

“Now go back inside, sweetie. Papa still has work to do.” Tug turned back to Nathan and the others. “If you would like to inspect the molo, to determine if it is to your liking, I will rejoin you shortly.” Tug bowed slightly as he turned to follow his wife inside.

“Thanks for not shooting her, Jess,” Nathan said.

“Good she didn’t raise that thing,” Jessica replied. “I would’ve dropped her without a thought.”

“I do not believe these people pose any threat to you,” Jalea scolded.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Nathan answered. “Shall we inspect the molo?” he asked, gesturing for Jalea to lead the way.

Jalea walked past them toward the stacks of bailed molo, casting a disapproving gaze toward Jessica as she and Nathan turned to follow.

“Yeah, let’s go look at the pretty mushrooms,” Jessica mumbled as she passed.

“Some fun, eh, my friend?” Vladimir mused.

As they walked away, Nathan could hear an argument arising between Tug and his wife from inside the house. They were using their native tongue, so Nathan couldn’t understand them. But he was pretty sure that Tug’s wife was not happy about her husband’s surprise guests. A quick glance at Vladimir told Nathan his friend had come to the same conclusion.

* * *

Tobin sat down at his usual table in the small cafe near Haven spaceport. Having just returned from delivering the work crew to the Aurora, it was his first opportunity to partake in more familiar cuisine. As he began his meal, a nefarious looking man sat down at the table behind him, his back facing Tobin’s.

“I trust our guests have arrived?” The stranger sitting behind him spoke softly, as if to himself, barely loud enough for Tobin to hear over the noise of the cafe.

“They have,” Tobin responded between bites. “And my payment?”

“Already in your account.”

Tobin pulled a mini data pad out of his pocket and checked his account balance, the sum of which drew a smile on his face. “Excellent,” he mumbled to himself as he placed the pad on the table and continued his meal.

“It was a large sum to provide on such short notice. You’re lucky we have assets in the system,” the man said.

“Please,” Tobin scoffed. “Do not insult me with your lies.”

“We grow impatient, Tobin. What is their location?”

“Patience. You will know soon enough.”

“I will know now, worm,” the man insisted, his still low voice taking a threatening tone.

“They are not currently accessible,” Tobin lied. The truth was he hadn’t spoken with them in several hours and did not in fact know their current whereabouts.

“Stick to the plan, my friend. Just be at my berth with your people at the proper time.”

The man grumbled. “You’d better be right about this one, Tobin.” The man finished his drink in one long gulp and departed without saying another word. Tobin continued eating his meal, an almost giddy look of anticipation of things to come on his face.

* * *

“I trust the molo meets with your approval?” Tug asked as he approached.

“Yes, I’m sure it will be fine,” Nathan said.

“How much are you asking?” It was obvious that Jalea did not think it wise for Nathan to do the negotiating.

“I’d say ten standard credits per kilogram is a fair price.”

“And there are fifty kilos per bail?” Jalea asked.

“That is correct. You can have all twenty bails, if you like.”

Jalea turned to Nathan. “It is a fair deal. I doubt you will find better.”

“How much should we buy?” Nathan had no idea how many meals that amount of Molo would provide for his crew. Nor did he have any idea how much revenue their harvesting operation would bring. He was forced to place his trust in Jalea’s understanding of the matter.

“I see no reason not to purchase the entire amount. If preserved properly, it should last you and your crew several weeks, if not longer.”

“And we can afford it?” he added in a whisper.

Jalea nodded slightly, as she turned back to Tug. “We will take the entire amount. That would be ten thousand credits, correct?”

“That is correct. How are you to make payment?”

“We are currently engaged in harvesting operations in the ring. Once we sell some of the harvest in the market tomorrow morning, we will be able to pay you for your molo.”

“That will be fine, I’m sure. But I will have to hold delivery until payment has been made. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” Jalea agreed.

“I can deliver it to port, if you wish?”

“That will not be necessary,” Jalea assured him. “We will have it picked up by shuttle tomorrow.”

“If you prefer,” Tug agreed. “If you’d like, you’re all welcome to stay for dinner. I can have my wife prepare some of her delicious molo stew. Then you will taste for yourself the quality of the product you are purchasing. And for a few extra credits, I might even be able to convince her to bestow her recipe upon you.”

“We are honored by your invitation,” Jalea bowed. “Captain? I trust that would be acceptable?” Jalea flashed Nathan a look urging him to accept.

“An honor indeed,” Nathan stated graciously, trying to his best to speak in similar fashion.

“Wonderful,” Tug said. “I will inform my wife that we have guests for dinner.” Tug bowed his head before heading back to his house.

“Great,” Jessica commented. “Mushroom stew down on the farm. And to think, I joined the Fleet to get
off
the farm.”

“I thought you said you were from Florida?” Vladimir commented.

“What, you think Florida is all beaches and bikinis?” Jessica sniped.

“I’m not sure staying for dinner is such a great idea, Jalea,” Nathan said. “I’m not sure we should hang around that long.”

“Agreed,” Jessica added quickly, looking for any opportunity to avoid having to eat more molo.

“It would be quite rude to turn down the invitation, Captain,” Jalea warned. “And you did say that you wanted to learn more about this part of space. How did you put it, ‘take a look around’? Perhaps this might be such an opportunity.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Nathan nodded. “Sorry, Jess.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. She knew he was right, that it was a good opportunity to gather more intel. “Dinner hosts are usually chatty.”

“Jalea, will you contact Tobin and arrange for a pick-up later tonight?”

“As you wish,” she said as she stepped away.

“Jessica, set up the tight-beam mini-dish and try to make contact with the Aurora—I mean the Volander. Let them know what’s going on.”

* * *

Ensign Mendez watched as the workers carried trays of separated ores from the processor to the cargo shuttle. The workers were an odd mixture of different types of people, all men except for three women, all with no noticeable similarities between them. Although they seemed to be moving at a steady, relentless pace, the foreman continued to yell at them incessantly.

To his right, one of the flight crew for the harvesting team sat snacking on some dried substance. “Who are these people?” Mendez asked the flight technician.

“Just workers,” he replied.

“What do you mean, ‘just workers’?”

“They come from all over. Some of them come voluntarily. Others are purchased.”

“What? Like slaves?”

“Not slaves, really. They usually owe someone lots of money. They sell themselves into labor contracts in order to pay off their debt.”

“And how long are these contracts?”

“It depends on the size of their debt. Usually a few years, at least.”

Mendez shook his head as he walked away. He walked casually around the hangar bay, as he had done every so often since the harvesting operations had begun. He didn’t do it because it was necessary, but rather to give the appearance of being vigilant as a deterrent to anyone thinking of sneaking off the flight deck. But the workers had proven to be just that—workers. They appeared to have little interest in anything other than surviving their long, grueling shifts, which thus far appeared to be never-ending.

As he made his rounds, he decided to veer off his perimeter walk, instead turning inward and walking along the sorting line. A string of about ten workers stood along either side of a long conveyor belt that moved rubble from the hopper that had been unloaded from the harvester to a cargo container at the other end nearer the cargo shuttle. As the rubble passed by, the workers, who wore some type of special scanning eye-wear, picked out certain pieces, depositing them into containers at their sides. When one of the containers became full, another worker would replace it with an empty one and carry the full container off to the processor.

Mendez came to a stop at the far end of the conveyor line, standing next to the old foreman, Marcus. “What are they sorting?”

“They’re pickin’ out pieces with the highest concentrations of precious metals. You know, gold, silver—hell, there’s even diamonds in these rings. Theory is there used to be two stars in this system, but the first one went super-nova eons ago. Most of the ring is composed of a massive planet that was blown off of its orbit when the first star blew up, and the planet drifted to close to the gas giant and got pulled apart.”

“Don’t you have machines that can do the sorting?”

“Sure. But machines cost money. And machines breakdown. Workers are cheaper and more versatile.” He smiled, eyeing an attractive, although somewhat disheveled, young female worker on the sorting line.

Just then, one of the workers on the sorting line, a middle-aged man, leaned over on both hands on the edge of the conveyor. He was obviously exhausted, and was simply trying to rest for a moment. Nevertheless, his unauthorized respite quickly earned him the foreman’s wrath.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Marcus bellowed as he stormed off toward the exhausted worker. “Did you hear anyone call for a break?”

“Hey!” Mendez interrupted, grabbing the foreman’s arm to slow his progress. “Ease up! Can’t you see he’s just tired?”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s tired! He’s paid to work, not rest!”