He hadn’t had an answer, and still didn’t. But he knew one thing: pushing paper wouldn’t get answers out of Jakus. He had to confront the man himself.
The line of hangars just across the way looked promising. He started across the crumbling tarmac, clenching and unclenching his fists. When he realized what he was doing, he pressed his open hands to his sides.
The shop he was looking for was the last one, marked by a dusty sign: CAVANAUGH AND FARHOODI RIGGER SYSTEMS. The hangar door was shut, so he tried a small door to one side. It opened with a creak and banged shut behind him as he entered. Inside was a dingy outer office, with a scarred counter and one dirty chair; behind the counter was an inner office, with a light on. A voice—a woman’s—called out: “Who’s there, eh? We’re closed!”
“Hello!” he called, and moved around the end of the counter to peer into the office.
A thick-waisted woman in a faded jumpsuit stood behind a desk, holding a dusting wand. “That door was supposed to be locked,” she said, sounding annoyed. “They’re closed here.”
Legroeder showed his empty hands. “I’m sorry—I’m not here on business, exactly. I’m looking for someone named Jakus Bark. I heard he worked here.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yeah, I guess he does. What d’you want with him?”
The words came reluctantly. “We used to… rig together. I haven’t seen him in years, and I, um, wanted to say hello. I’m… interested in getting into his line of work.”
The woman squinted at him, obviously processing his words slowly. He couldn’t tell if she recognized him from the news or not. Perhaps she wasn’t someone who watched the news. “I’ll check,” she said. She touched a com switch on her collar, spoke subvocally for a moment, then nodded. “What’s your name?”
He told her, and she relayed the information. Her eyebrows went up once, as she listened to a reply. Finally she shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. He’s in the, what do you call it, sim’lator three, out back.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating a door behind her. “Don’t touch nothin’, though, ’cause you probably shouldn’t be in here.” She muttered under her breath for a moment before adding, “and be quick, eh? I don’t want to get in no trouble.”
“I’ll be careful,” Legroeder assured her. “Thank you.” He passed through the door into the hangar and paused to let his eyes adapt to the gloom. There were several modest-sized spacecraft in the hangar, with various bays and panels open for servicing. One small craft was in an advanced stage of disassembly. Legroeder had to skirt around the front of the first ship just to find a path back through the hangar. Two ship-lengths back, against the righthand wall, he saw three giant grey eggs. They were rigger-station simulators, used for testing repairs to the flux-reactors and rigger-net equipment. As he walked back alongside the ships, Legroeder saw a flicker of actinic light on the far side of the hangar. Someone was working with a photonic torch on the underside of a third ship.
The door was slightly ajar on simulator three, letting light escape. As he approached, he could see a full bank of controls and monitors—and the back of someone’s head. Suddenly the door slid the rest of the way open, and the couch rotated, and his old comrade Jakus Bark blinked up at him from beneath the brim of a battered duckbilled cap. “Legroeder,” he said, rubbing his left temple. An implant glittered beneath his fingertip. “Wha’d’ya know?”
Legroeder’s voice caught. “Hi… Jakus.”
Jakus squinted. “Shit, man—good to see you. I heard somethin’ on the news that you got out. Man, I didn’t think anybody would ever get out of there. Way to go!” His voice trembled as he peered up at his former crewmate.
Legroeder had to reach to find his own voice. A host of feelings were welling up inside him, most of them violent. “You made it out,” he said finally. “Imagine my surprise to hear about it.”
Jakus’s eyebrows went up a fraction of an instant, and then he laughed—a nervous bark that echoed in the little chamber.
“They didn’t seem to remember it at the RiggerGuild,” Legroeder said, with forced evenness. “About you coming back.”
“Well, heh—that’s the RiggerGuild for you.”
“Yeah,” Legroeder said. “So how’d you get out?”
Jakus shrugged. “I was on a raider ship that blew up, a couple of years ago. I was the only one to get out alive. How about you?”
“Escaped,” Legroeder said. “Not a fun story.”
“I bet not.” Jakus gave another nervous laugh. He gestured at the simulator panel. “You like my new job?”
“Yeah, real nice place here.” Legroeder looked around at the hangar, then back at Jakus. “I get the feeling you’re not too happy to see me—if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Well—no, it’s not that, man. Shit—let me get out of here—” Jakus lurched forward out of the reclining seat of the rigger-sim and grabbed the edges of the doorway “—I been sittin’ awhile.” He hauled himself out of the giant egg and stood upright, towering over Legroeder by half a dozen centimeters. His hair looked thinner than when Legroeder had last seen him, and his face more chiseled. “I just wasn’t expectin’ you to turn up here out of the blue, that’s all. How the hell’d you find me, anyway?”
Legroeder ignored the question and glanced around again. “What is it you do here, anyway?”
“Pretty much what it looks like.” Jakus shrugged. “Refit ships, test ’em out for the customers. It’s not too fancy a shop, but it’s better than some places we’ve seen, right?”
Legroeder didn’t argue. No doubt it was better than the raider outpost, where every moment was a battle between fear and despair. But how had a rigger like Jakus wound up in a place like this? He’d been a good rigger in his time. Before the pirates…
“So what’s up, Renwald?” Jakus leaned back against the simulator shell. “You didn’t drop in just to say hi, I guess.”
Legroeder felt his gaze narrow. “No. I didn’t.” A knot was tightening in his stomach. “I came, actually, to ask you about your testimony before the RiggerGuild.”
“Testimony?” Jakus grunted.
“Yeah. Testimony. About the L.A. You want to tell me about that? About why you lied to the Guild about what happened to the L.A.?”
Jakus looked away. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he said, rubbing his nose. “I didn’t give no testimony.”
Legroeder snapped, “I saw the recording of it, Jakus. You blamed me for what happened to the L.A.”
Jakus gave that nervous laugh again. “Nah, I didn’t really. I remember now. I didn’t know what you were talking about at first.”
Legroeder drew his lips back. “You said you and the captain tried to tell me that Impris wasn’t real—and that I was the one who put the ship in danger.”
Jakus looked down at the floor. “Yeah, well—isn’t that what happened?”
“You sonofabitch!” Legroeder slammed the side of his fist against the shell of the simulator. “You saw that ship just the same as I did! And it was Captain Hyutu who gave the order to move in, and you backed me up when I made the identification!”
Jakus’s eyebrows went up. “Did I?”
“Yes. You damn well did.” Legroeder let his breath out with a hiss. “What’d those pirates do to you, Jake? Back then, I could’ve trusted you to tell the truth. Instead of lying to protect your own little ass—”