"But Albet tells me that you handle cargoes worth millions every day!" Fanlin yelled. He could see his big opportunity evaporating before his eyes, and he was beginning to panic. "What's so different about this one?"
Jirik shrugged. "You're right, although we rarely think in those terms. But we're not responsible for those cargoes, other than to ensure safe delivery. Such deals are handled by bonded agents on both ends. I'm just a truck driver who occasionally takes a fling at my own trading. I'm not insured or bonded to handle a deal this size. Frankly, sir, it scares hell out of me!"
Fanlin's panic was rising. "But, Captain! This is the opportunity of a lifetime for both of us! It may be years before another ship of your size calls here. Albet says that yours is the largest ship to call here in over ten years! We can make the rim the cultural equal of any sector of the Alliance, or even of the Empire! And how many chances are you going to get to make a million-credit profit? Think about it, Captain! Without agent's commissions, you could easily clear a profit of a million or more. Surely you can't just walk away from that!"
The hell I can't, Jirik thought. He wanted nothing more than to walk away from the deal, the spook, spy stuff and the rim. But he couldn't voice this opinion. Fanlin was getting even more agitated. If he carried his objections too far, the man might voice his grievances to someone like Cony . . . who Tomys thought was the head of the Actionists on Boondock, and who might become very suspicious. It was time to temper his refusal a bit.
"All right, Mr. Fanlin. I'll bring your offer to my crew. If they decide that the deal is worth the risk, we'll pursue it more completely. I can have the results of a vote for you tomorrow. Will that be satisfactory?"
Fanlin's expression made it obvious that it wasn't, but he replied, "That will be quite acceptable, Captain. Please get back to me as early as possible, as we will have much to discuss if you take the deal."
Once back at the port, Jirik dug out the now-dog-eared card Tomys had given him on their first meeting, and left the message that would supposedly result in Tomys' contacting him. He then returned to overseeing the stowage of their inbound cargo.
It was some two hours later that Jirik received a vidphone from Tomys, inviting him to lunch. Alerting Bran to continue overseeing the stowage, Jirik left for town cursing spooks, Actionists, Fanlin, and rimworlders in general.
Unlike Jirik, Tomys was pleased about the offered deal. Jirik made no secret of his own misgivings.
"Fanlin has a point, Captain," Tomys declared. "If you turn down a potential million credit deal simply on the basis of risk, these Coalition people are going to begin wondering about you."
Jirik snorted. "What the hell do I care whether they wonder or not? I'll be safely off planet and off the rim. And that's all I want – off this planet and off the rim." And away from you and the Actionists, he added silently
Tomys was unimpressed. "I don't want to have to force the issue, Captain, but don't doubt that I will. I assume that you would be required to deliver portions of your cargo to all of the rim worlds."
Jirik shrugged. "I didn't let Fanlin get that specific, but I would imagine so. I can't imagine the other rim worlds buying a load of bookchips for Boondock. I'm sure that each of them would expect their share of the shipment." He glowered at Tomys, "I still don't like it. I don't know what you think you'd gain from me running around the rim delivering bookchips, but I don't think I want to find out. You're asking me and my crew to risk everything we have including our freedom, for some silly spook caper that probably won't help anyone!"
"Not at all, Captain. I'm simply asking you to take a business proposition that could net you and your crew a million credits or more. If I wasn't involved at all, and you received an offer like this, you'd seriously consider it, wouldn't you?"
Jirik nodded, and Tomys continued, "Of course you would. All I'm doing is urging you to take the deal."
"'Urging', right." Jirik replied bitterly, "Except that if I refuse, you'll force me to 'reconsider', right?"
Tomys smiled thinly. "Let's just see how the crew's vote goes before we consider unpleasant possibilities, Captain. I suspect that your crew may be more . . . shall we say . . . 'receptive' to a million-credit profit than you seem to be."
Jirik's only reply was a noncommittal and graceless grunt. In view of the latest development, Tomys decided that they should remain in daily contact through Jirik's rented office. He admitted that he expected the terrorist arm of the Actionists to contact Jirik if the deal was made, in an attempt to get him to smuggle military information or equipment.
Jirik returned to the ship with a strong sense of foreboding. Things seemed to be rapidly getting out of hand. Events were running away with the crew of the Lass, and he felt helpless to halt, slow, or steer them. After briefing Bran, he called the crew meeting.
Tor, of course, had been with him during both meetings with Fanlin, and was well aware of the purpose and importance of the meeting. He was near bursting from trying to keep from spilling the information before the meeting.
Since Jirik had briefed Bran completely, Valt was the only member of the crew who didn't know the purpose of the meeting.
Jirik's plan for Valt was obviously working. Valt was clear-eyed and obviously clear-headed. The normal healthy ruddiness had returned to his complexion, and he even appeared to have lost some sedentary weight in the past week. The improvement went beyond the physical. He seemed cheerful and interested. He was once again the shipmate that Jirik and Bran had had before coming to this benighted planet.
Jirik started the log recorder, and called the meeting to order.
He simply told them about the proposed deal, the possible rewards, and the concurrent risk.
"I want to make very sure that everyone understands the risks involved," he said. "Fanlin will be handing me a letter of credit for over twenty million credits, enough to attract the attention of every pirate gang between here and Alpha. And," he continued, "every pirate between here and Alpha knows that since there is no such thing as FTL communications, we will have to physically carry a letter of credit that will be honored on any planet in the Empire with no questions asked."
"How are they going to find out about it, Captain?" asked Valt. "I mean, we're not likely to talk about it. You think there are spies in the Library?"
Jirik smiled sourly. "Actually, that's not impossible, Valt. Add to that the fact that Library officials on all nine of the planets were informed and voted, which means their staffs also know about it. Then, the financial people who were responsible for processing that large letter of credit itself, plus who knows how many that were involved in bringing the letter of credit to Boondock. Somewhere in that long list of people there is certain to be one who will sell the information to one or more pirates.
"I want you to know that if we accept this deal, we will be running a gauntlet all the way to Alpha. If we take the most direct route, we could be certain of finding a pirate at more than one recal system. The Lass is not a warship, and she isn't even armed. All we can do is run for it; and pirate ships have both weapons and speed.
"If we can make it to Alpha, we can earn a payday of more than a million credits. If not, we'll all be dead.
"I want you all to give this serious thought. We would be literally risking our lives for the chance of a big payday. Valt, you have a better idea than the rest of us of the risks we'll be taking and the things we can do to protect ourselves. What do you think? What are our chances of getting through?"