Chapter 9
New Austin
Lone Star System
Laredo Territory, Southern Hemisphere
Eleanor Winchester was not happy. She kept herself busy making a nice, home-cooked meal for the family and their expected guests, but she barely spoke a word to anyone. Marcus knew the silent treatment when he didn’t hear it. He did his best to give her space.
She had not been pleased when Marcus played back the conversation he’d had with a crewmember of a privateer ship called the Andromeda. Even knowing their financial situation full well, she was pregnant and Marcus was talking about leaving, for over a year! Nonetheless, Ellie had consented to his talking further to the spacers to see what the specifics were. She said she didn’t want to stand in his way, even if she disapproved.
When the captain of the ship and a couple of her crewmen asked if they could come to the house to talk to Marcus, Ellie had even put on a big, fake smile and invited them to dinner. She was now busy in the kitchen, resentfully cooking a meal by hand for guests she really didn’t want, instead of just letting the kitchen appliances handle it. When Marcus asked if he could help, she just said she was fine.
Marcus had been with his wife long enough to know that when she said she was fine, things weren’t actually fine, and that he was in trouble. He couldn’t really blame her, though. He had been gone a great deal when he was in the military, and had promised her—given his word—that after they settled on New Austin he would be there for his family all the time. He hated that he’d gone back on that promise, hated it, and hoped Ellie would forgive him.
He knew that if, deep down, Ellie was truly, adamantly opposed to him doing this, she’d have said so, asked him not to go, and that would’ve been the end of it. She’d instead told him to do what he “thought was best” and had spun herself up into a good mad over it. But she understood their financial situation better than he did, and she understood what he was trying to do. This job offer could be the blessing the Winchester family badly needed.
That didn’t mean she had to like it.
So Marcus gave Ellie a wide berth while she made dinner, and took the time to reread the contract the crew of the Andromeda had sent him. It was pretty vague in the details of where they were going and why, but was very blunt about some other things. Hazardous conditions. Long spaceflight. Austere environment. Safety not guaranteed. Death or dismemberment clause. Lost in space clause. Long-term health effects clause. Some of that left Marcus wondering, but there was one part of the contract that focused his interest very well: half up front.
If they were willing to pay half of the not-insubstantial salary up front, that meant they were serious. It meant that this was a legitimate job, not some shady operation that would just as soon screw a guy over as pay him. That part had made Ellie feel a little better, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Marcus freely admitted that it made him feel better.
Annie, on the other hand, had surprised Marcus with her reaction. She seemed more excited than anything else, and jealous that he might be going on a space adventure without her. He had to remind himself that she had still been little when he got out of the Espatiers and the family emigrated to New Austin. She didn’t really remember him being gone all the time. She instead bombarded him with questions about the ship he might be departing on, and he repeatedly had to tell her that he didn’t know. Undeterred, she looked up the ship on the colonial network, since it was listed as being docked at Capitol Starport. She had practically memorized every detail about it, and Marcus hoped that the captain wouldn’t mind being bombarded with questions about her ship.
Lone Star was sinking toward the eastern horizon when Marcus was alerted to the approaching air car. The house’s security system picked it up and sent a notification to his handheld. Dressed a little nicer than usual, in a jacket and slacks, Marcus headed outside to greet his guests.
Annie followed on his heels, acting unusually sociable. Being an only child out in the deserts of Laredo Territory, she didn’t interact with other people face-to-face very much. She normally only saw her friends online, and Marcus worried that this was stunting her social development. She was usually shy, reclusive, and even disinterested when people came to visit, but not tonight. Tonight she’d even put on one of the dresses she very rarely wore, a dark blue one that her mother had gotten her last Landing Day. In keeping with her sense of style, though, Marcus noted that his daughter was wearing black leggings and combat boots that almost went to her knees. That was about as dressy as Annabelle Winchester ever got.
The shrill whine of the air car’s ducted-fan engines grew louder as it approached. The small aircraft circled gracefully around the house and slowed to a hover. Its engine ducts flared outward, and the vehicle settled onto Marcus’ long driveway, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it did so. The air car’s pilot had politely landed about fifty meters away from the house so as not sandblast it. Air cars generally made poor ground vehicles; this one came lumbering up the drive, lift fans retracted, reminding Marcus of nothing so much as a beached sea mammal. It rolled to a stop and cut its engine.
The front doors opened and two men got out. One was muscular, dark-skinned, with a cybernetic implant replacing one of his eyes and a portion of the side of his face—Mr. Broadbent. The other, the one that had been flying the craft, had the pale complexion typical of spacers and blonde hair cropped into a buzzcut. He wore denim blue jeans, but had them tucked into combat boots, and wore a long leather coat and dark glasses. Definitely not from around here, Marcus mused.
The oddly dressed spacer came around the vehicle and opened the passenger door. He extended a hand to help a woman climb out of the rear passenger seat. She was tall, and like her compatriot, had a fair complexion. Her dark hair was done up into a tight bun. Her eyes were concealed behind mirrored sunglasses, aviator-type, in the style of ancient Earth. A leather flight jacket with the traditional four bars of a captain on the shoulder boards told Marcus that this woman was the skipper of the Andromeda.
She approached confidently, removing her sunglasses. She had strong, angular features and a hard gleam in her eye. The woman offered Marcus a firm, Earth-style handshake. “Marcus Winchester?”
“Guilty as charged,” Marcus said with a grin. “You must be Captain Blackwood.”
“Catherine,” she said. She turned to Annabelle and shook her hand as well. “And who is this lovely young lady?”
Normally Marcus would introduce his daughter, since Annie had a tendency to be very shy during face-to-face encounters with people she didn’t know. But with Captain Blackwood, she seemed resolute. She kept her shoulders squared and looked the captain right in the eye. “Annabelle Winchester,” she said. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“And you,” Captain Blackwood said. “Allow me to introduce my associates.” She indicated the oddly dressed fellow with the buzzcut. “This is Herr Wolfram von Spandau, my executive officer.” Herr von Spandau gave Marcus a single, crisp vertical handshake and a firm nod. “And this,” the captain said, pointing at the man with the face implant, “is my security officer.”
The security man had a deep voice and a grip like a mechanical vice. “Mazer Broadbent,” he said.
“Nice to meet you face to face,” Marcus said. “Now, if y’all are hungry my wife is preparing a nice, home-cooked meal.”
Captain Blackwood raised an eyebrow. “By hand?”
Marcus nodded. “She never has the appliances make dinner when we have company over.”
“It’s never as good when the machines do it,” Annie added.
“It certainly smells delicious,” the captain said. “We’d be honored to be your dinner guests.”
* * *
Despite her unhappiness with the prospect of Marcus leaving, Ellie was a great cook and a gracious host. She’d grown up on Hayden, and as crowded and crime-ridden as some parts of that colony were, hospitality was a deeply held social value there. Guests at Winchester Ranch were always treated to a fine meal, prepared by hand, drinks if they wanted them, and a pleasant atmosphere. In any case, Ellie liked entertaining, and they didn’t get company very often living way out in Laredo Territory, so she was making the most of it. Marcus noted, as the evening wore on, that his wife seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself.
His daughter was too. They hadn’t gotten around to discussing business yet, so Annie took the opportunity to ask the captain as many questions as she could. For her part, Captain Blackwood pleasantly and patiently told Annie just about everything she wanted to know. She could probably tell that Annie was completely enamored with her, and Marcus appreciated that she was nice to his daughter. It made him feel better about the whole proposition.
After the meal was cleared away and drinks were poured, Ellie had Annie come “help her in the kitchen” so Marcus could talk business with the crew of the Andromeda. Captain Blackwood sipped the stout New Austin whiskey and studied Marcus for a moment before speaking.
“So, Mr. Winchester,” she began, suddenly sounding very businesslike, “I take it you’ve had the opportunity to go over the information I sent?”
“I have, Captain Blackwood.”
“Please, it’s Catherine. I’m not your captain unless you join the crew. Tell me then, what do you think?”
“You were a little vague on the details.”
Catherine took another sip of whiskey. “Mm. We were. Posted on an open network like that, we kept the specific operational details to a minimum, for security reasons and to protect client confidentiality. I don’t expect you to sign without knowing some specifics, though, so allow me to explain. I originally hail from Avalon, Mr. Winchester. Have you ever been there?”
“Just Marcus. No, I haven’t. I might’ve guessed from your accent. It’s subtle but you have a hint of ancient Scotland in your speech.”
Catherine smiled. “Aye. It comes out more when I drink. The Blackwoods are a very prominent family on Avalon. My father holds a seat on the ruling Council there, and serves as the governor of Aberdeen Province. He also owns the Blackwood and Associates Trading Company.”
“I see. Is your father the client, then?”
“Technically his company is, but yes. He went to the trouble of tracking me down because of the sensitivity of this matter.”
“Wanted to keep it in the family, did he?”
“He did. I’ve been charged with locating and recovering my brother, Cecil. Not only is he family, he’s the rightful heir to my father’s name, business, estate, and titles.”
Marcus detected a hint of bitterness in her tone, but made no mention of it. “Okay, so he’s important. Where is he? Why do you need a team of military-trained mercenaries? I can only assume he’s gotten into some sort of trouble.”
Captain Blackwood sipped her whiskey again. “Indeed, you could say that. He’s on Zanzibar.”
“Zanzibar . . .” Marcus thought out loud. “That’s . . . wait, is that that failed colony world way the hell out on the frontier?”
“It is.”
“Catherine, what in the hell is your brother doing out there?”
“That’s an excellent question,” Catherine replied. “My father was, to be blunt, aggravatingly sparse on the details. Being perfectly honest, the Blackwood name and holdings are in financial trouble. My father believes that Cecil went to Zanzibar on some kind of ill-conceived profit-seeking venture. A treasure hunt, even.”
“How did he get there?”
“He hired some assistants and chartered a ship. He invested a great deal of his personal fortune into the endeavor, so whatever it is he thought was there, he believed it would make him a lot of money.”
“And your old man just let him traipse off into the unknown like that?”
“So it would seem. There’s more, though. The reason we were brought in is not because Cecil has gone missing. He’s being held for ransom. Last year a courier ship arrived in the Arthurian System. Part of its bulk information download was a message from the skipper of the ship that Cecil had chartered. He said that a local warlord calling himself Aristotle Lang is keeping Cecil and his associates as hostages. He was, the last we heard, alive, unharmed, and being treated well. If we want him to stay that way, it was suggested that we start negotiating.”
“I see. So this guy Lang obviously knows who your brother is.”
“I very much doubt my brother was discreet on Zanzibar. Discretion was never his strong suit.”
“Ah. Rich off-worlder comes to town, starts throwing money around, gets kidnapped by the local bad guys. This sort of thing happens in the less pleasant parts of some colonies.”
“The last update we got from Zanzibar was months out of date. The situation may have changed. We haven’t heard anything from Cecil or his captor. After we landed I uploaded a message for this Lang fellow to a courier ship that is headed that way. It’ll be some time before they get it.” The lag time inherent to interstellar communications had a frustrating way of dragging dramas like this out for months, sometimes years.
Marcus shook his head. “Damn. It’s like kidnapping Christopher Columbus and sending the Santa Maria back to Spain with a ransom note. So, what are you looking to do? Are you planning on having the team you hire go in, guns blazing, and rescue your brother?”
“Absolutely not,” Catherine said firmly. “Not if it can be avoided. I’ve been entrusted with a large amount of hard currency from my family’s estate. I’m prepared to simply pay for Cecil’s safe return and leave without incident, if the opportunity presents itself. My mission is to recover my brother, dead or, preferably, alive, not to overthrow a petty brigand on some far-flung rock. If it can be done without bloodshed then that’s what I’ll do. But you and I both know how these things play out. Once I show up with money in hand, there’s a very good chance our Mr. Lang will get greedy and demand more, see how much he can milk us for. I’m not prepared to make multiple trips between Zanzibar and Avalon to settle this matter. One way or another, I will resolve this situation.”
Marcus appreciated the captain’s candor. He appreciated the fact that she wasn’t a trigger-happy nut dead-set on shooting her way in and out of the situation. Marcus had done more than his share of counterinsurgency and irregular warfare work while with Special Operations. Sometimes firepower alone wasn’t the answer.
Mazer Broadbent spoke up for the first time since the discussion began. “This is why we’d like to bring you on, Mr. Winchester. I took the liberty of reviewing the parts of your service record that are public information. For the sake of full disclosure, I did twenty standard years in the Defense Force. I served on Mildenhall as well.”
“Is that how you . . .” Marcus trailed off, but pointed at the side of his own head.
Mazer grinned. “This?” he said, pointing at his facial/ocular implant. “Oh yes. I was with the Military Police Corps. We were escorting a Provincial Reconstruction Team and their robots to a work site. Despite the fact that we were hundreds of kilometers inside the Green Zone, we were hit with a complex ambush. Heavy weapons, rockets, everything the insurgents could throw at us. It was, no joke, the last month of my deployment. I got to rotate home a little early, with a little less of my natural skull weighing me down.”
Marcus chuckled at the spacer’s dark humor. “I was with Twenty-Second SOG over in Regional Command Southwest.”
“That was right on the border of the Red Zone, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. We ran ops pretty deep into the Red Zone frequently, right up until the end.”
“Saints and prophets,” Mazer cursed. “I heard stories from out that way, but it was all just rumor.”
Marcus nodded slowly. “Yeah, they kept a pretty tight seal on RC Southwest. The press was kept out completely. They’d even shoot down aerial media bots and unauthorized satellites.”
“Right before I left,” Mazer said, “they were blockading the system completely. No media was allowed in at all. I hear the whole system is quarantined now.”
Marcus’ expression darkened. “That’s what they should’ve done in the first place: just evacuated the colonists and pulled out. There was nothing on the planet worth that many lives.” A lot of people said they’d been on Mildenhall when they hadn’t. The bloody conflict there had almost a romantic mystique in popular culture, made all the worse by the fact that most people had no idea what had gone on there. He could tell that Mazer Broadbent was a real Mildenhall vet; he had the look to him, like a black spot on a man’s soul. There’s nothing like watching your government sacrifice thousands of lives on a lost cause to dispel any romantic notions of war that you might have had.
“I bring this up,” the spacer said, “to assure you that this isn’t some fool’s errand. The captain is deadly serious about accomplishing our task in a clean, preferably bloodless manner. That said, the people holding Cecil Blackwood, the followers of this Aristotle Lang, are dangerous. Negotiation may not work. The captain recognizes that her small crew doesn’t have much experience in ground combat, and especially in dealing with situations such as this. You, on the other hand, do. Your Special Operations background makes you an almost ideal candidate.”
“It does, Marcus,” Captain Blackwood added, leaning in intently. “Being very blunt, I want you to lead my ground team. We don’t have much time to assemble that team, but with your knowledge of New Austin and connections here, the whole process will go more smoothly. I have a substantial operating budget for this. You’ll get your pick of personnel and equipment, within reason.”
“A year or longer is a long time to be gone from my family,” Marcus admitted. “That’s the real sticking point for me.”
“I don’t intend to be on Zanzibar that long if I can help it,” the captain assured him. “It doesn’t take that long to make the trip from here to there and back. That’s just a contingency.”
“I assumed as much. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. My wife is pregnant. We just found out not that long ago.”
“Congratulations. It must be hard missing the birth of your child,” Catherine said.
“It was. I was deployed when Annie was born. I had just left for Mildenhall when she took her first steps. One of the reasons I got out and emigrated all the way out to New Austin was so I could live a quiet life, and be there for my family.”
“But you still responded to our query.”
“I did. I have another mouth to feed on the way. Emigrating out here wasn’t cheap. Getting my dream home out in the country wasn’t either. Providing for the education and welfare of my children costs money too. The money you’re offering could be a godsend for us.”
Catherine spoke softly. “I understand your hesitation. I don’t have children, but I know how important family can be. To tell you the truth, I had been, well, estranged from my own family on Avalon for many years. Despite the falling out I had with my father, my brother needs my help now. The past doesn’t matter so much in the face of that. I will have a contract sent to you before we leave. If you decide to sign, we’ll arrange to bring you to the Starport. I don’t mean to rush such a big decision, but sooner the better. The sooner my team is assembled, the more time you will have to train together before we leave. Either way, if you know of anyone else who might be interested, I’d appreciate it if you’d have them contact us.”
“I understand. My partner is interested. He’ll probably go if I do.”
“What’s his background?” Mazer asked.
“CDF, same as you. He was in Nuclear/Explosive Ordnance Disposal. Spacewalk and EVA rated and everything, even if it’s been a few years. He’s solid. His area of expertise might come in handy.”
“Very well. Marcus, I’m afraid I need to get back to the Starport now. I’d like to thank you for your gracious hospitality. Please tell your wife her cooking is fantastic.”
“Why, thank you,” Eleanor said, reappearing from the other room with Annabelle in tow. “It was just a few things I threw together.”
Marcus smiled. His wife had spent all day making that meal.
“Thank you for your time,” Captain Blackwood said politely, “and for having us in your home. I’ll be waiting for your response.”
Handshakes were exchanged, and the spacers excused themselves. Ellie made her way back to the kitchen, and Marcus followed.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Ellie said defensively. Her expression softened. “I may have been monitoring the security camera feed, though.”
Marcus smiled. “I figured as much. Look, I know you’re not sure about this. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. We’ll figure something else out.”
“I don’t want to stand in your way.”
Marcus stepped forward and took his wife’s hands into his own. “Baby, we’re a team, remember? I don’t make decisions, we make decisions, especially if it affects the family like this.”
“I feel like I’m being selfish if I ask you not to go. I know you’re doing this for our family.” She placed Marcus’ hand on her belly. “Our growing family.”
“I’d get half the money up front. That would be a huge help right now.”
“I know you, Marcus Winchester,” Eleanor said. “I know you’ve been restless. I didn’t marry you without realizing what kind of man you are. I know you miss the travel and excitement you used to have. You gave that up for us. That was a big deal for you.”
“After Mildenhall, I was ready to get out anyway.”
“Oh, that’s a load of horseshit, Marcus,” Ellie said with a tear in her eye. “You were a lifer. I knew that when I married you. And I know you want to take this job. I can hold down the homestead while you’re gone. I’ll still be here when you get back.” The tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m just scared. I used to be scared all the time, scared that I’d get that call.”
Marcus embraced his wife and held her tightly. “You know how careful I am,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.
“You’d damned well better be careful,” Ellie said. “Don’t you dare make me tell your daughter that her father isn’t coming home. Don’t you dare.”
“Speaking of . . . where did Annie go?”
* * *
“I think that went well,” Catherine said. She and her shipmates made their way back to their rented air car.
Wolfram agreed. “I expect that he will sign on.”
“I hope so,” Mazer said. “He’s got the experience we’re looking for.”
“Do we have any other candidates to meet this evening?”
“Not tonight, Kapitänin.”
“Good. Let’s head back to the Starport then.”
Catherine was surprised to hear a girl’s voice call to her. “Captain Blackwood?” It was Annabelle, Marcus Winchester’s daughter. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
The captain told her shipmates to wait for her in the air car, and went to speak with the young woman. “Hello, Annie,” she said with a smile.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I just . . .”
“It’s okay. Go ahead.”
“How did you get where you are? How did you come to be the captain of your own ship?”
“Honestly? Fifteen years of hard work. There weren’t any shortcuts for me. I’m a graduate of the Avalonian Space Forces Academy, but . . . well, things didn’t work out. I signed on with the Andromeda as a junior officer and never looked back.”
“I want to do that,” Annie said. “I want to be a spacer.”
Catherine smiled, and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “There’s no reason why you can’t. Concordiat worlds don’t have the, ah, biases against female spacers that I had to contend with.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’m being dumb. I’m acting like a little kid. But you’re where I want to be. I want to go with you. You know, to look out for my dad.”
“I rather doubt your mother would approve,” Catherine said. “I was just like you at your age,” Catherine said. She was being sincere; the Winchester girl very much reminded her of herself as a teenager. “Ready to leave my dull life behind and chase adventure amongst the stars. I have no doubt you can do the same if you set your mind to it. Just remember, a career in space isn’t as glamorous as the media likes to portray it. The vast majority of it is routine boredom while you’re in transit. You can’t have much of a life outside of your ship, either.”
“Where do you live? If you don’t mind me asking. The information I have says the Andromeda is registered out of Heinlein.”
“It is. I live there a few months out of the year, and have a few friends there that I never see. I pay people to manage my estate and affairs while I’m away. It’s not much of a life.”
Annie seemed conflicted. “Then why do you do it?”
Catherine smiled. “Because I love it. The sense of freedom you get out there is indescribable. The pride of watching a well-trained crew run your ship so flawlessly that you have almost nothing to do, the wonder at visiting strange new worlds . . . it’s exhilarating. The love of my life. Someday I will settle down, stay planetside for a while, maybe even have a family of my own. Someday, but not today.” There was an undeniable twinkle in the captain’s eye.
The teenager smiled back at her. “Thank you. I’m . . . I’m sorry to have held you up.”
“Not at all. And listen, I want you to know that if your father decides to come with me, I will do everything in my power to bring him home safely. I take care of my crew. I’m also very, very good at what I do. He’ll be in good hands.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“And when I do bring him home, you’ll get a tour of the ship. Deal?”
“How about before he leaves?”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Planning on coming to the city, are you?”
“I am!” Annie said excitedly. She raised her handheld for Catherine to see.
“The New Austin Colonial Chambers of Commerce proudly present the ninety-second annual Aterrizaje Stampede,” she said, reading the text on the screen. “What is it?”
“It’s a rodeo,” Annie said.
Catherine felt slightly embarrassed. “A what?”
“A rodeo! People bring their horses in from all over the terraformed zone for the event. There are barrel races, bull riding, calf roping, mounted shooting, tons of different events. It’s a big thing here.”
“I see! Your father told me you had an interest in horseback riding. He said you were quite the, um, cowgirl.”
“Did you grow up with horses?”
“As a matter of fact I did,” Catherine said with a smile. “Avalon has an equestrian culture dating back centuries, to the founding of the colony. Here, look for yourself.” The captain tapped the screen of her handheld a few times, pulling up her extensive photo library, and showed a particular picture to Annie.
“Is that you?” she asked, studying the picture. In it, a dark-haired young woman sat proudly atop a silvery Avalonian steed. She was dressed in traditional equestrian garb: red coat, white trousers, knee-high riding boots, and a riding crop tucked neatly under her arm.
“It is, my dear. I was about your age.”
“What are you wearing?” Annie asked, incredulously.
Catherine chuckled. “Ah. The riding traditions on Avalon descend from the English back on Earth. Different than your North American style.”
“What is that on your head?”
“It’s a helmet, child. Don’t you wear a helmet when you ride?”
“No, ma’am,” Annie said with a toothy grin. She showed the captain a picture of herself, hair done up in braids, with a wide-brimmed white hat on her head. “This is how a real cowgirl does it. Hey! You want to see Sparkles?”
“Kapitänin,” Wolfram grunted. “We should be getting back to the ship.”
“There’s plenty of time, my friend,” she said, patting her exec on the shoulder. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been around horses?” She turned her attention back to Annie. “Lead the way.”