"We're a long way out," Jirik said doubtfully, "Maybe it just took that long to get out this far."
"That was my first thought, Captain, but it's not the answer This five-volume theoretical work was copyrighted seventy-five years ago, here on Boondock!
"Hell!" Jirik was startled. "I didn't know that Boondock was settled that long ago, much less that they were issuing copyrights!"
"I picked up a history of Boondock, and skimmed it last night," Bran replied. "This place has an unusual background. In a nutshell, it was colonized from Jaxon about a century ago as a mining colony. You know that they produce a lot of heavy elements." Jirik nodded and Bran continued, "There was the usual rush when the planet was first opened up, but Boondock is a savage world. Only the very strong could survive the gravity and the weather. Women, especially, had trouble surviving. It wasn't until about twenty years passed that the survivors were able to establish any sort of civilization."
Jirik snorted. "There still isn't much, from what I've seen. This is the biggest city on the planet, and it would be a village anywhere else."
Bran shook his head soberly. "You're wrong, Captain, and that's another part of the puzzle. Boondock was a typical frontier planet until about eighty years ago. Then, suddenly, what had been a typical amateur, lethargic frontier planetary government became activist and progressive almost overnight. Within the space of a few years, these rugged individualists obtained state of the art communication screens for every household and mine, began collectively buying shiploads of bookchips, well, bookdiscs, at that time, for general circulation, set up a planetary trivid system, and started an intensive educational drive. Within ten years, they started the University of the Rim, which is now one of the most prestigious schools in the Alliance. Now, Boondock is one of the leaders of a loose economic coalition of nine rim planets."
Jirik looked thoughtful. "Hmm. You're right, it is hard to believe that a planet could go from a few, scattered mines and camps to a worldwide network of dedicated civic types in a few years. Any idea what happened?"
Bran shrugged. "Not yet, Captain. But I did buy both that five-volume monstrosity and a pop-level book about the author, a Dr. Ran Atmos, and his work. Maybe I'll get some hint from that, I'm going to review it tonight. Maybe I'll be able to tell you more tomorrow. This thing really bothers me. I want to know what the hell's going on!"
"Well," Jirik replied indifferently, "I can't say that I care too much, unless it somehow affects us or the Lass. Now, tell me about the repairs."
Bran straightened in response to the businesslike note in Jirik's voice. "Making progress, Captain, but it's slow going. That little asteroid pebble really messed up our Inertial Drive Generators – both of them. With the 'help' of those ham-handed cretins that call themselves a repair crew, I've finally managed to get one of the drives torn all the way down, and a damage survey completed." He held up a small piece of twisted ferroceramic. "This used to be part of the main impeller turbine. When the asteroid penetrated the drive casing, it must have hit the turbine. The turbine exploded like a bomb. The generator casing is full of fragments. This is the largest piece that I could find." Bran sighed deeply.
"Everything outside the casing is salvageable, of course, and I think that I may be able to get the holes in the casing itself molecularly bonded if bonding is available here, and if there's no other damage to it. The casing wasn't warped, at least. I'll have to wait for the stress analysis results before I'll know for sure whether we can salvage the casing. The problem is that DIN-class Combat Carriers aren't common out here. Every part that we'll need will have to be machined. Of course, we have all of the engineering specs. Thank heaven for bureaucratic redundancy. If the Lass wasn't military surplus, she probably wouldn't have come with all the component machining programs." He smiled wryly. "I've stumbled over that damned box of microdiscs thousands of times. Never thought I'd be glad it was there."
Jirik had listened intently to Bran's recitation. "What about the other drive generator?"
"I don't know yet, Captain. Projecting the asteroid's course through the hull and the generators, I'm sure that the other generator is in better shape than this one. From what I can tell from an external examination, the asteroid didn't pierce the casing, but it gouged a big groove in it, weakening it beyond use. I'm hoping we'll be able to get molecular bonding done here. If so, we may just need to replace the external components. I'm going to begin pulling it down tomorrow, if I can leave those idiots that call themselves a 'repair crew' alone long enough!"
Jirik hid a smile at Bran's words. Bran was a perfectionist, and regarded the Engineering decks as his own private domain, jealously guarded, even against the rest of the crew. Being forced to permit groundhog work crews not only on his spotlessly sterile decks, but even to work on his beloved engines was sheer torture for Bran. His irritation and frustration echoed Jirik's own trader's fury and disgust over the delays and costs that the accident had caused.
"What's your best estimate of repair time?" Jirik asked, "And what have Valt and the Jankys kid been up to? I've been so damned busy in that rented office that I'm out of touch."
Bran sighed deeply. "I can't give you a very exact estimate until I get into the other generator, Captain, but I would say two weeks at least. I can't order parts made until I know what parts we'll need. I believe that I can have the first generator on line in ten days to two weeks, if no new problems arise." He shrugged expressively. "I can't even hazard a guess on the other one. If only the externals were damaged, I may be able to repair it from stores once the gouge is bonded, and no additional time will be needed. If there's internal damage, it's anybody's guess."
"As for Valt and Tor," He continued, "Valt is useless. He's totally ignorant about everything but astrogation, and not interested in learning. You know how he is in port; his liberties are non-stop orgies of booze and sex." Jirik nodded. Jori's orgiastic excesses were a never-ending source of irritation for Jirik, who had many times had to bail his astrogator out of planetary jails, or deal with irate husbands and parents.
"Well," Bran continued, "On Boondock, he has a problem. Women are seriously outnumbered by men here, and as a result, women are held in high regard. Since nearly any Boondock woman can get a husband any time she wants, there are very few prostitutes. Valt's usual pursuits simply aren't available on Boondock. Not that he hasn't tried. He's been beaten up four times so far for insulting a woman. It seems that heavy-world women aren't to Valt's taste. So, he drinks. A lot. He hasn't come back to the ship sober since we got here. If there's anything more annoying than trying to get Valt to do something other than navigation, it's trying to do it when he's hung over. I finally sent him back to his nav compartment to compute cargo distribution and fuel requirements for our next leg, but I suspect that all he's been doing is nursing his hangovers and watching those damned porn vids of his." Valt's collection of pornographic vids was legendary. Both his sleeping compartment and the Astrogation compartment had their walls lined with vid chips, whose contents ranged from intriguing to disgusting. Nearly all of what Valt had left over from his orgies was spent on enlarging his collection.
Jirik snorted disgustedly. "I've about had all I can take from Valt. What about Tor?" Tor Jankys had been picked up on Corona. His father was a farmer with seven sons. He realized that Tor was not suited to farm life, and used his life savings to buy Tor's share after the Lass' Comm Officer paid off after a fight with Valt. Tor was still excited by the transition from farmer's son and student to crewman on a Free Trader. The trip to Boondock was his first space voyage.