He thought of all of this as he sat on the bridge of the Nebel, waiting for permission to leave Bosak City. Each of the three ships ahead of him had received permission, only to be stopped just inside the dome. Inspectors boarded and hadn’t emerged for at least two Earth hours.
The Nebel was four times the size of those other ships. It was a cargo vessel that he had purchased five years ago with the proceeds of his last big job. It was a Gyonnese ship, which meant that it had a lot of wonderful equipment that was so unusual most Earth Alliance inspectors had never seen it, even though Gyonne was a long-time member of the Alliance.
Yu hadn’t followed all Alliance protocols either. The cargo bays probably weren’t as clean as they should have been. If a ship went through standard Alliance decontamination procedures, then it also got a thorough inspection. He didn’t want the interior of his ship on any port database.
One of the things that had saved him in the past was that his ship didn’t fit any known model. Inspectors didn’t realize that the interior of the ship was larger than it appeared. Nor did most know how many separate environmental systems it had.
So if an inspector tested the air for contaminants in, say, the bridge, he’d get a completely different reading than he would in one of the cargo bays.
Usually, though, Yu didn’t have such sensitive cargo. He had to keep the flowering fidelia near him. The plant needed all the atmosphere he could provide. He had it in a darkened room off the bridge itself, a room he kept as humid as possible, and he hoped that would be enough.
So far, the fidelia still glowed. He hoped it would for another day when he could finally—safely—contact Athenia.
Nebel, said an official voice. Prepare for interior scan.
Yu let out a breath. He had already protected this deck from the scan by creating a shadow deck, one that would look good on most equipment in most ports. He hoped it would work here.
Scans show you have living material near the bridge that is not on your manifest. Please explain.
Yu cursed silently. He could try to tough it out or he could pull his only bargaining chip. He didn’t have time to research Bosak law, so he didn’t know how closely it was bound to Alliance protocol.
If Bosak law followed Alliance protocol, he had no shot, not with the contaminants this ship had been exposed to.
He waved his hand over the console. His movement had switched on his side of the communications array.
“Space Traffic,” he said. “I have a special license that allows me to carry items not listed in the manifest. I am sending that license to you now.”
He passed his fingers over a different part of the console, then sighed. Either the port would reject the license outright or it would take time to examine it.
The license claimed that he carried top-secret cargo that had already been screened by various government regulators. It was legitimate. It would hold up to examination.
The problem was that the license had come from Athenia’s company. Now he would have to notify her, whether he was ready to or not.
The silence on the other end both encouraged and worried him. If they were going to board him, they would do so in the next few minutes.
He sat very still, watching the monitors. Then the digitized voice returned.
Your license is in order. Thank you for spending time in Bosak City. You are cleared to leave.
He bowed his head, letting relief course through him. If he had been arrested this far out, he had very few options and even fewer bargaining chips. Athenia had been one of those chips, and he wouldn’t have been able to use her twice.
Then he straightened his spine, passed his hand over the console to initiate the take-off procedures, and let the ship do the rest.
He had to contact Athenia before Bosak City did.
He had to let her know that the flowering fidelia was on its way.
Fortunately Athenia picked a rendezvous spot only an Earth day away from Bosak. She had been excited to hear that he finally found a flowering fidelia, excited enough to pay his current expenses and to promise him a bonus if the thing bloomed for longer than the expected week.
Yu finally got some much-needed sleep. He sprawled on the large bed he had indulgently placed in the captain’s cabin, secure in the knowledge that in a few hours the fidelia would no longer be his concern.
But it felt as if he hadn’t been asleep more than a few minutes when the ship woke him up. An image floated above the bed—the Nebel surrounded by a dozen ships, some above, some below, some to the sides—all of them blocking his way.
“Is that a threat of something to come?” he asked the ship. “Or is that really happening?”
“It’s really happening,” the ship said. The seductiveness of the voice, which he had programmed for solo trips, suddenly seemed inappropriate.
“Have they contacted us?” Yu sat up, rubbed his hand over his face. He felt bleary. How long had it been since he slept so deeply? A week? Two? A month?
“No contact,” the ship said.
Yu’s stomach clenched. That wasn’t good. He got out of bed and pulled on some clothes. “Can you show me a better image of the ships?”
“This is how they appear,” the ship said.
Yu wasn’t sure what that meant. Was that how they appeared when the ship scanned them or was that how they appeared through the ship’s various portholes?
“I’d like to see the ships’ identification,” he said.
“They have no markings.”
He was shaking now. The Nebel had no weapons, because he so often flew the large cargo ship solo. Instead, he had opted for great speed and all sorts of interior shadowing technology, which allowed one section to appear to be something it wasn’t.
“The shadowing technology is on, right?” he asked.
“It is,” the ship said, “but we have not been scanned.”
No contact, no scan. His heart was pounding. “Have we been boarded?”
The ship did not answer. His mouth went dry. He walked to the door of his cabin and waved his hand over the locks.
They didn’t open.
“Ship,” he said again. “Am I the only one on board?”
The image of the Nebel surrounded by a dozen ships vanished. A woman’s face appeared in front of his door.
She had vertical blue lines running from her forehead to her chin, making it seem as if her face had been taken apart in sections and put together badly.
“You will be alone in a few moments, Hadad Yu,” she said. “We have let you know our presence as a courtesy. And we want to give you our thanks.”
“For what?” he asked, although he was afraid he knew.
She didn’t answer. Instead she smiled and the image vanished.
He tried the door again. It didn’t open.
“Secure channel YuPrivate,” he said, giving one of the many codes he had programmed into the ship.
“Yes?” The ship’s seductive voice had vanished.
“Open the goddamn door to my cabin,” he said.
It slid open and he stepped into the corridor. The air had a slightly metallic odor that was unfamiliar—something the environmental systems hadn’t yet cleaned out.
“Am I the only one on the ship?” he asked.
“Yes,” the ship said.
He cursed. He thought of grabbing a weapon, but decided against it. There was no point. If the images he had seen were accurate, there were too many people surrounding his ship. A weapon would only make him seem desperate and might, in fact, put him in danger.
Instead, he hurried through the empty corridor to the bridge.