Cale’s first order of business was to check on the condition of the liner. Surprisingly, though well worn, she was in completely operable condition. Ber Nabel had bought her at auction on Norta. Since a Beta-Class normally had a crew of over three hundred, she was too big for him to run by himself, even with the AI’s help, so he’d hired a temporary skeleton crew to bring her to Torlon and put her into orbit. She’d been here almost fifteen years.
Apparently, though, there were few Beta-class liners still operating, and Nabel had had no call for parts of the huge Pride. Since Nabel had bought her at a bankruptcy auction, he’d bought her with everything she contained when she had been seized, which turned out to be nearly everything she needed to operate. Her cargo holds were mostly empty (though Cale intended to check out those mysterious boxes and crates remaining in the aft hold), but her storerooms seemed to be nearly full. As Nabel had mentioned long ago, he had been using the Pride as his orbital headquarters, so he’d never shut her down, instead occasionally supplementing her fuel with fuel taken from other hulks. There would be no problem maintaining a dozen or so workers for a month or two. If he’d had enough crew, Cale marveled, he could have simply taken her to Vishnu himself to bring the workmen! Oh, he might need to replenish her atmosphere plant, and the hydroponics section had become an impenetrable jungle, but overall, he was the proud owner of a perfectly usable ship!
Of course, that fact was a lot less impressive than it sounded. Beta-class liners were big ships, used to transport passenger lists of over a thousand in sybaritic luxury. Curious, Cale and Dee had the ship’s AI, which Cale had named, Bet, show them one of the Pride ’s Super-Class Suites. That single suite was larger than Cheetah ’s entire passenger section. The wine-colored wall-to-wall carpeting was over two centimeters deep. The corridor door led into the spacious sitting room, with several heavily padded sofas covered in exotic animal hide. These were grouped around a low real wood table whose top was inlaid with a grown-crystal surface.
The real wood of the table was duplicated in the sumptuous paneling of the walls. One of the largest viewscreens Cale had ever seen occupied the far wall. At present, it was displaying the starfield displayed by the main viewscreen on the bridge. One corner of the large space was occupied by a large bar in gleaming metal, well populated with an assortment of bottles and glasses. On each side of the large sitting room were doors leading to the two bedrooms. They explored the one Bet said was the largest.
The bed was large enough for four, or six if they were close friends. The ceiling over the bed hosted an oversized holovision screen, this one inactive now. The carpet in here, as lush as that in the sitting room, was a very light blue, which was echoed in the covers on the bed. One wall featured a large vanity table, complete with three-sided viewer and a liberal supply of beauty products. Dee squealed in delight and headed for this, but Cale headed her off and directed her to the ‘fresher. Actually, the term ‘fresher was totally inadequate to describe the large room they entered. Here the carpeting changed to a white, with a different texture. In place of the large plas bag that the usual ‘fresher used to avoid wasting water in space, this room featured an open tub, large enough for three, with no less than six nozzles to provide water or steam. A large button on the wall controlled a clear plas bubble that lowered around the tub, presumably to prevent the leakage of water, if the occupant cared to be bothered. The various knobs and handles controlling all the facilities were plated in what Cale had no doubt was real gold, and the amenities included the thickest fabric towels he had ever encountered, as well as the usual air blast drying nozzles.
As they left the suite, Dee turned to Cale with a grin. “Well,” she said impishly, “At least you won’t suffer if you have to run to your ‘bolt hole’ to hide!”
Cale grinned and shook his head. “Too overwhelming for me, I’m afraid. I’m a man of simple tastes.”
Their tour had shown them, though, that despite air recirculation and frequent cleaning, fifteen-year-old mattresses and fabrics became musty and rotten. Luckily, Pride had a large supply of replacements in vacuum storage. By the time Zant arrived with the work crew, Pride ’s army of spider-shaped mechs had clean, fresh, and sweet-smelling staterooms ready for them. Normally, of course, those mechs serviced only the lower-class accommodations. The upper decks had been staffed by human servants, from cooks to cleaners to personal attendants, when required. Cale actually had to override a prohibition in Bet’s programming forbidding her mechs from visiting the upper decks when humans were present.
Of course, the work crews wouldn’t be using the upper decks anyway. The lower decks were much more convenient to the workshops and airlocks they would be using.
When Zant contacted Cale upon emerging from jump and approaching with comm range, he was obviously depressed and even angry.
“I brought three dozen,” he told Cale in a challenging tone, “and I’d have brought three dozen more if I’d had a larger ship!”
Cale’s reply was puzzled. “All right,” he said mildly. “You know our needs and our resources. Three dozen should help us get done quicker, and I guess you decided we could afford them.”
Cale’s attitude plainly took Zant by surprise. His hunched shoulders relaxed, and his belligerent expression faded to one of sadness. “Deity, Cale, you should have seen it,” he began, “No, maybe you shouldn’t. I sure wish I hadn’t. People were starving, Cale. The government tried to seize the food aboard our ship. I actually saw two women fighting — physically fighting — over a bucket of grass one of them had gathered in a park. Grass, Cale!
Cale frowned. “I’ve seen starving people, Zant. I’ve been one. You tell them we have a big, comfortable ship for them to stay in, and plenty of food for them to eat. Tell them that as long as they do their best for us, we’ll take good care of them.”
Zant breathed a huge sigh of relief, and a shadow of his usual smile reappeared. “Thanks, Cale. It was really bad, kid. When I kicked those government creeps off the ship, and announced what we needed on the Worldnet, we were practically mobbed. There’s a good man running the groundside port there. He put armed men all around the port in exchange for ship’s rations for them. Workers were lined up for more than a kilometer. The Port Manager put a man to asking each person about their shipyard experience before he would let them onto the port. I still could have hired hundreds. As it is, I’ve got thirty-eight. None of ‘em has less than ten years’ orbital ship yard experience. Twelve of them have crew leader experience, and three have project management experience.” His eyes took on a haunted look. “All of ‘em wanted to bring their families. But even hiring a Din-class I didn’t have room aboard! I gave ‘em all a month’s pay in advance, so they could leave it with their families.”
“A month’s pay?” Cale asked. “I doubt the project will take that long. At least I hope not.”
Zant flushed. “I know,” he said guiltily. “And I agree, the quicker the better. But these people were almost pathetically grateful. I think we’ll get the best from every one of them.”
His image darkened again before he continued, “Uh, I might as well tell you the rest. I told ‘em that if our plan worked, we might let ‘em use one of the hulks to move their folks off-planet. Uh, I maybe kinda hinted that they might even be allowed to remain on Ilocan.” At Cale’s raised eyebrow, he continued defensively, “If this works, I’m sure I’ll be able to talk them into it. After all, these’ll be the folks who fixed up the ships and then crewed them into possible battle. Sheol, they’ll be blasted heroes!”