Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Jumbo
New Home
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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About the Author…
The Privateer 2:
AN HONEST LIVING
By
William Zellmann
Text Copyright 2013
William Zellmann
All rights reserved
Chapter 1
"That's strange. Jazeer is hundreds of light years from here." Mada Terkan turned the small package over and over in her hand. She hated mysteries!
This one was a simple, small box, some 8 centimeters square and two high. It was unmarked except for the address: "Director, Pirate Victim Relief Fund, Verdara." There was no return address, simply the postmark from Jazeer, dated about two months ago.
Her assistant, Jake Rolf, shook his head in exasperation. "Well, you're not going to learn anything just looking at the box. Open it up!"
Mada shrugged, looking embarrassed. "You're right. Let's see what it is." She passed her unsealer over the box, and then slowly lifted the top. Inside was a simple black cloth, crumpled and apparently wrapped around something. "There's something here," she said, carefully removing the cloth and revealing a small, handwritten note on common plas. She spread the cloth on her desk and she and Jake stared at the small pebbles revealed. She looked at the note. "FOR ATLANTEA," was all it said, in large, crude, block letters.
Mada picked up a stone. "What is it?" she asked, but before he could answer, the warmth of her palm caused the stone to burst into coruscating color. She gasped.
So did Jake. "Sheol!" he exclaimed. "That's a sunstone! I saw one once. The President's wife was wearing it."
Mada dropped the stone back into the box as though burned by it. "It can't be a real sunstone, can it?"
Jake was regaining his shattered composure. He shook his head. "I don't know, Mada. But I think you'd better get this box into the bank safety deposit box as soon as possible." He paused. "No. I think you'd better take the box to Sire Soro. He's a jeweler. If anyone would know a sunstone, it's him."
Sire Soro was flabbergasted. It took him only a few moments to announce the verdict.
"Mada," he said, a shocked look on his face, "What you have here are twelve sunstones, ranging in size from five to nine millimeters. This is the largest collection I've ever seen, and I've only even heard rumors of one larger. They're worth millions of Alliance credits. And they just came in the mail?"
"Yes," Mada replied in a hushed tone. "In an unmarked box, with a note that just said 'For Atlantea'."
Sire Soro frowned. "I think you'd better get these into a bank vault immediately. And I must warn you; the authorities are going to be very curious about a collection of unset sunstones like this. I suggest you contact them right away."
Mada called the police from Sire Soro's office. In minutes, two men in plain clothes entered the office, displaying the ornate badges of the planetary police. One borrowed Sire Soro's jewelry scanner and ran it over each stone before escorting Mada, and the stones, to the bank. The other accompanied Jake back to Mada's office to retrieve the box and note.
The mystery was never solved.
"It doesn't seem likely," the Director of the Planetary Police finally told Mada, "but my best guess is that one of the pirates that hit Atlantea two years ago grew a conscience, and thinks this is restitution."
Mada looked grim. "Pirates don't grow consciences. And even a hundred sunstones couldn't make restitution for the horrors of Atlantea."
The Director shrugged. "Maybe it was his first raid. But you have them now. I'd suggest you announce a public auction. Advertise it all over the sector. You'll draw in jewelers, gem dealers and just plain buyers from all over. This will be the largest sunstone auction in history. And who knows? The sector-wide publicity might bring in a lot of new contributions to the Fund."
"But, if they're pirate loot . . . "
He cut her off. "We can't say that. We simply don't know. Believe me, if we could prove any of those stones came from Atlantea, we'd have seized them long ago." He smiled. "I'm actually glad we can release them to you. You'll use the money a lot more effectively than the government would."
The auction brought in the equivalent of over two hundred million Alliance credits, and the publicity brought in another thirty million in contributions. Thanks to the volunteered services of a financial advisor, the money was invested, and the charity used only the interest, not the principal. Still, that amounted to twenty million per year, money badly needed; there was much misery to fight, with more every day.
Hundreds of light years away, Cale Rankin never saw the news reports. But he was sleeping better these days.
********
Cale Rankin grinned as he reached down and patted Dee's bottom.
She whirled on him, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "You stop that!" she said with mock ferocity. "Especially in public," she continued in a murmur, her smile mischievous.
"If a man can't even pat his wife's…" Cale began, but Dee rolled her eyes.
"Not on Santiago, and not in public." She interrupted. She rolled her eyes again. "God! Married for one month and you've turned into an insatiable lecher!"
Cale's grin was wide. "And you love it!" he said. And he loved her. He had loved her almost since they'd met, when she'd been brought aboard his ship bound and gagged. Even then he'd been struck by her shoulder-length chestnut hair and those amazing green eyes. They were nearly the same height, at 172 cems, and the contrast between her fair skin and his own olive complexion and black hair often caused people to turn to watch them pass.
Dee's face relaxed into a smile. "Yeah, I guess I do. But we're almost there, and you'd better get your mind off my bottom and onto business!"
Cale held up his hands in surrender. "Okay! Okay! All business. But I won't promise to get my mind completely off your bottom!"
Dee sighed and shook her head. "Men!" She said, struggling to restrain a smile. "Anyway, we're here."
"Here" was a storefront in an upscale area of Santiago City. Large, colorful banners proclaimed it the office of "Colonies, Inc! From planetary surveys to turn-key colonies, we are your key to a new life!" Similar-themed banners and posters covered the entire storefront.
Dee snickered. "Zant isn't exactly subtle, is he?"
Cale laughed aloud. "When was the last time you thought Zant was subtle?"
Her smile widened. "Never, I guess." She shrugged. "But I like him."
Zant Jenfu rose from a large desk as they entered his office. Zant was a large, heavy-set man. The leathery lines in his face were softening and his tan fading, now that he was living an indoor life. His smile was wide and genuine as he greeted them, and then turned to the three other occupants of the office.
"Sire Belen, sire Perez, sire Padilla, may I present my partners in this endeavor. Sire Cale Rankin and Mistress Delilah Raum-Rankin. Sire and Mistress Raum-Rankin are our scouts. They will perform the initial survey."
The men had risen at Dee's entrance, and all three bowed over her proffered hand. "Please, gentlemen," Dee protested. "We are married, not just life-mated. I'm simply Mrs. Delilah Rankin, now."