don't think so," Reg said. "But I'll ship over the raw data on all of the bandit encounters, if you want, and you can go through them. You'd have a better eye for that kind of detail than I would."
"Last question," Chas said. "Who's Transkootenay's contact in SysGov?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm grasping at straws," Chas said.
"It's a woman," Reg said. "Good exec. In her fifties. Not a diplomat, but an administrator. Her name's Tan Whitley, and she's head of Offworld Development, on Glace."
"Thanks."
Reg looked at his brother carefully.
"Chas, are you going to stay with this Star Risk?"
It was Goodnight's turn to think.
"For the moment, I think so," he said. "At least while your ass is in a crack. After that�" He shrugged.
"Back to my wild, carefree life of crime, riches and beautiful women. Especially if something better gets offered."
"Check me on this for what we should be trying to figure out first," Baldur told Riss and King.
"First, what is our villains' intelligence network like? We know they have something, since they are able to pick their striking points accurately. Second, are they running any double agents here on Sheol, or on any of the outstations? Third, what is their Signal Intelligence? Fourth, and quite possibly this should be first, what are their ultimate goals?
"Finally, where is their goddamned base?
"Did I miss anything?"
The two women considered.
"For the moment," Riss said, "I think that covers it."
"So then, we shall begin by attempting to provide our miners� gad, but I am starting to talk like that paternalistic Reg Goodnight. Our miners, indeed. Anyway, we must start providing security for them, which hopefully will also provide openings to begin striking back.
"One other thing I just arrived at. When our Chas returns to the ship, I think I shall sequester him. Very few people, other than his brother, and a scattering of others, know his face.
"I think we should keep it that way. We may need to send a ferret down a rat hole, and I would prefer our ferret be as suspicion free as possible.
"How, where, and when we might do that, I do not have a clue at the moment."
"But it's not a bad idea," Riss said.
"I doubt if Chas will like being mewed up," King said. "But better a bitter bester than a blown, broken, battered bester. Right?"
"It's settled," Riss said. "You are a robot. Nobody human could have made it through that last sentence without breaking her tongue."
Baldur looked slightly shocked, until King started giggling.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIFTEEN � ^ � M'chel considered the snifter, took it from its gimbal mounting, lifted the stopper, and sniffed.
No. It didn't smell right, which meant it wouldn't taste good, either.
But she still couldn't sleep.
She decided to force a daydream that'd make her doze off, and curled up in one of Boop-Boap-A-Doop's plush captain's chairs, and thought about the ship.
The admiral who'd had it converted to his rather luxurious tastes didn't deserve forced retirement, she thought, and yawned. More like keelhauling.
At least from the perspective of the Alliance taxpayers who'd inadvertently funded this barge.
If there was extravagance left off, she didn't know what it was, from the gold fixtures in all of the freshers, to the jet-tub, covered against spillage if, gods forbid, the Boop ever went weightless, to the tapestry-like wall coverings.
Even the control rooms�two, fore and aft�were luxurious. The ship was a little shy on weaponry, having only four chainguns in blisters and a single missile station. But that was all right, she thought.
The whole universe didn't have to pack a gun.
Name me a place you've been where one didn't come in handy, her mind challenged.
She hmphed that away, and considered who, if she were rich enough to run this beast as her very own, she'd share it with.
Her list of potential lovers ran out very quickly.
For some reason, she didn't like
"Last question," Chas said. "Who's Transkootenay's contact in SysGov?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm grasping at straws," Chas said.
"It's a woman," Reg said. "Good exec. In her fifties. Not a diplomat, but an administrator. Her name's Tan Whitley, and she's head of Offworld Development, on Glace."
"Thanks."
Reg looked at his brother carefully.
"Chas, are you going to stay with this Star Risk?"
It was Goodnight's turn to think.
"For the moment, I think so," he said. "At least while your ass is in a crack. After that�" He shrugged.
"Back to my wild, carefree life of crime, riches and beautiful women. Especially if something better gets offered."
"Check me on this for what we should be trying to figure out first," Baldur told Riss and King.
"First, what is our villains' intelligence network like? We know they have something, since they are able to pick their striking points accurately. Second, are they running any double agents here on Sheol, or on any of the outstations? Third, what is their Signal Intelligence? Fourth, and quite possibly this should be first, what are their ultimate goals?
"Finally, where is their goddamned base?
"Did I miss anything?"
The two women considered.
"For the moment," Riss said, "I think that covers it."
"So then, we shall begin by attempting to provide our miners� gad, but I am starting to talk like that paternalistic Reg Goodnight. Our miners, indeed. Anyway, we must start providing security for them, which hopefully will also provide openings to begin striking back.
"One other thing I just arrived at. When our Chas returns to the ship, I think I shall sequester him. Very few people, other than his brother, and a scattering of others, know his face.
"I think we should keep it that way. We may need to send a ferret down a rat hole, and I would prefer our ferret be as suspicion free as possible.
"How, where, and when we might do that, I do not have a clue at the moment."
"But it's not a bad idea," Riss said.
"I doubt if Chas will like being mewed up," King said. "But better a bitter bester than a blown, broken, battered bester. Right?"
"It's settled," Riss said. "You are a robot. Nobody human could have made it through that last sentence without breaking her tongue."
Baldur looked slightly shocked, until King started giggling.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIFTEEN � ^ � M'chel considered the snifter, took it from its gimbal mounting, lifted the stopper, and sniffed.
No. It didn't smell right, which meant it wouldn't taste good, either.
But she still couldn't sleep.
She decided to force a daydream that'd make her doze off, and curled up in one of Boop-Boap-A-Doop's plush captain's chairs, and thought about the ship.
The admiral who'd had it converted to his rather luxurious tastes didn't deserve forced retirement, she thought, and yawned. More like keelhauling.
At least from the perspective of the Alliance taxpayers who'd inadvertently funded this barge.
If there was extravagance left off, she didn't know what it was, from the gold fixtures in all of the freshers, to the jet-tub, covered against spillage if, gods forbid, the Boop ever went weightless, to the tapestry-like wall coverings.
Even the control rooms�two, fore and aft�were luxurious. The ship was a little shy on weaponry, having only four chainguns in blisters and a single missile station. But that was all right, she thought.
The whole universe didn't have to pack a gun.
Name me a place you've been where one didn't come in handy, her mind challenged.
She hmphed that away, and considered who, if she were rich enough to run this beast as her very own, she'd share it with.
Her list of potential lovers ran out very quickly.
For some reason, she didn't like
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