Yes, sir.
Reckon you might, at that. You got a change of clothes?
Grinning, Yuri twisted round to show him the canvas duffle bag slung over his shoulder; his laser rifle was strapped to it.
The sheriff picked a vermilion-coloured deputys badge from the pile beside his processor block. There you go. Get yourself down to the Swithland and find a bunk. Well swear you in officially once were underway. And muzzle that bloody sayce, I dont want him chewing up colonists before we get there.
Yuri rubbed the black scales between Randolfs battered ears. Dont you worry about old Randolf, he aint going to hurt no one, not till I tell him to.
Next! the sheriff called.
Yuri Wilkin settled his hat firmly on his head, and headed for the sun-drenched harbour outside, a song in his heart and mayhem in mind.
Gods, Ive seen some rough planets in my time, Joshua, Ashly Hanson said. But this one takes the biscuit. There isnt even anyone at the spaceport who wanted to buy copies of Jezzibellas MF album, let alone a black-market distribution net. He took a drink of juice from his long glass, it was a purplish liquid with plenty of ice bobbing around, some aboriginal fruit. The pilot never touched alcohol while the Lady Macbeth was docked to a station or in a parking orbit.
Joshua sipped his glass of bitter, which was warm and carried a punch almost as strong as some spirits hed tasted. At least it had a decent head.
The pub they were drinking in was called the Crashed Dumper, a wooden barnlike structure at the end of the road that linked the spaceport with Durringham. Various time-expired spaceplane components were fastened up against the walls, the most prominent a compressor fan from one of the McBoeings that took up most of the end wall, with a couple of the fat blades buckled from a bird impact. The pub was used by spaceport staff along with the pilots and starship crews. It was, allegedly, one of the classier pubs in Durringham.
If this was refinement, Joshua didnt like to think what the rest of the citys hostelries must be like.
Ive been on worse, Warlow growled. The bass harmonics set up vibrations on the surface of the brightlime in his bulbous brandy glass.
Where? Ashly demanded.
Joshua ignored them. This was their second day in Durringham, and he was starting to worry. The day Ashly had flown them down there had been some sort of riot next to the river. Everything had shut down, shops, warehouses, government offices. Spaceport procedures had been minimal, but then he suspected they were always like that on Lalonde. Ashly was right, this was one massively primitive colony. Today had been little better; the Governors industrial secretary had put him in touch with a Durringham timber merchant. The address turned out to be a small office down near the waterfront. Closed, naturally. Enquiries had eventually traced the owner, Mr Purcell, to a nearby pub. He assured Joshua a thousand tonnes of mayope was no problem. You cant give it away down here, weve got stocks backlogged halfway up the Juliffe. He quoted a price of thirty-five thousand fuseodollars inclusive, and promised deliveries could start to the spaceport tomorrow. The wood was a ridiculous price, but Joshua didnt argue. He even paid a two thousand fuseodollar deposit.
Joshua, Ashly, and Warlow had gone back to the spaceport on their hired power bikes (and the rental charge on those was bloody legalized robbery) to try to arrange for a McBoeing charter to ship the wood up to Lady Mac . That had taken the rest of the day, and another three thousand fuseodollars in bribe money.
It wasnt the money which bothered him particularly; even taking Lalondes necessary lubrication into account the mayope was only a small percentage of the cost of a Norfolk flight. Joshua was used to datavised deals, and instant access to anybody he wanted via the local communication net. On Lalonde, where there was no net, and few people with neural nanonics, he was beginning to feel out of his depth.
When he had ridden back into town in the late afternoon to find Mr Purcell and confirm they had a McBoeing lined up, the timber merchant was nowhere to be found. Joshua retreated to the Crashed Dumper in a dark mood. He wasnt at all sure the mayope would even turn up tomorrow; and they had to leave in six days to stand any chance of securing a cargo of Norfolk Tears from a roseyard merchant. Six days, and he didnt have any alternative to mayope. It had seemed such a good idea.
He took another gulp of his bitter. The pub was filling up as the spaceport staff came off shift. Over in one corner an audio block was playing a ballad which some of the customers were singing along to. Large fans spun listlessly overhead, trying to circulate some of the humid air.
Captain Calvert?
Joshua looked up.
Marie Skibbow was dressed in a tight-fitting sleeveless green stretch blouse, and a short pleated black skirt. Her thick hair was neatly plaited. She was carrying a circular tray loaded with empty glasses.
Now this is what I call improved service, Ashly said brightly.
Thats me, Joshua said. Jesus, but she had tremendous legs. Nice face too, ever so slightly wiser than her age.
I understand youre looking for a cargo of mayope, is that right? Marie asked.
Does everybody in town know? Joshua asked.
Just about. A visit from an independent trader starship isnt exactly common around here. If we werent having all this trouble with the Quallheim Counties and the anti-Ivet riots youd be the most gossiped over item in Durringham.
I see.
Can I join you?
Sure. He pushed out one of the vacant chairs. People had tended to avoid their table, it was one of the reasons hed brought Warlow down. Only someone who was stoned out of his brain would try and tangle with the amount of boosted muscle the old cosmonik packed into his giant frame.
Marie sat down and fixed Joshua with an uncompromising gaze. Would you be interested in taking on an extra crew-member?
You? Joshua asked.
Yes.
Do you have neural nanonics?
No.
Then, Im sorry, but the answers no. I have a full complement anyway.
How much do you charge for a trip?
Where to?
Wherever youre going next.
If we can acquire a cargo of mayope, Im going to Norfolk. Id charge you thirty thousand fuseodollars for passage in zero-tau, more if you wanted a cabin. Starflight isnt cheap.
Maries air of sophisticated confidence faltered slightly. Yes, I know.
You want to leave pretty badly? Ashly asked sympathetically.
She dropped her gaze and nodded. Wouldnt you? I lived on Earth until last year. I hate it here, Im not staying no matter what it costs. I want civilization.
Earth, Ashly mused whimsically. Lord, I havent been there for a couple of centuries. Wouldnt call it particularly civilized even back then.
Hes a time hopper, Joshua explained as Marie gave the pilot a confused look. And if you hate this place as much as you say, then Norfolk isnt where you want to go either. Its strictly a pastoral planet. They have a policy of minimal technological usage, and the government enforces it pretty rigorously from what I hear. Sorry.
She gave a small shrug. I never thought it would be that easy.
The idea of signing on with a ship is a good one, Ashly said. But you really need neural nanonics before a captain will consider you.
Yes, I know, Im saving up for a set.
Joshua put on a neutral expression. Good.
Marie actually laughed, he was being so careful not to hurt her feelings. You think I waitress for a living? That Im a dumb waster girl saving up tips and dreaming of better days?
Er ... no.