The spider looked really curious. Kim turned to her and said, still smiling shyly:
“We are from the same ship, ma’am. We have a provision for a fifteen percent bonus for married couples. To boost crew morale. I haven’t signed the contract yet, and so…”
The woman pursed her lips. Murmured:
“Your company lawyers don’t have any brains. Well, at least you’re not making up stories of sudden romance.”
Alex was silent, leaving further discussion completely to Kim.
“The registration of a twenty-four-hour marriage costs five spacenyans. Whose account should I charge?”
“Mine,” said Alex quickly.
The spider coughed, got up from her chair, winced as her wires caught on the corner of the table and got got detached from the contact plate.
“Alexander Romanov and Kim O’Hara, in the name of the planet of Quicksilver Pit and on behalf of our president, Mister San Li, I congratulate you upon your entry into a temporary marriage union. During the period of the contract, I hope you get to know each other better”—here, even the spider could not help smiling—“so that the present contract can be extended for a longer period of time. Your marriage is now recognized by His Imperial Government as legal on the planets of the Empire, as well as beyond its borders, for the entire period of the contract.”
The pleasant, though somewhat willfully improvised, version of Mendelssohn’s wedding march, which had been playing during the entire speech, ceased.
“Any special wishes?” the spider politely asked, obviously not expecting any such wishes. Her right hand was already sliding around in the air, filling out all the items of the marriage contract form.
“I would like to take the last name Romanov,” said Kim quietly.
“Why?” asked the woman in surprise.
“It sounds exotic.”
The spider shrugged her shoulders.
“As you wish. You want your property rights separated? Genetic rights stay with the genes’ carriers? Personal debts and felonies do not transfer onto the family unit?”
Her fingers fluttered in the air, weaving new threads into the data web.
“My warmest congratulations, Alex and Kim Romanov… Would you like to make a small donation to the planetary home for orphaned children of astronauts? Or for the development of medical technologies?”
“For the children’s home,” said Kim. She looked at Alex, and he nodded.
“Five nyans? Ten?”
“Ten.”
“I thank you on behalf of the grief-stricken orphans of astronauts…. Your marriage contract is now valid. Congratulations.”
With a slight bow of her head, the spider handed them two marriage contract documents.
“Thank you.” Alex caught Kim under her arm and dragged her out of the office.
“What about my ID?” whispered Kim as soon as the office door closed behind them.
“We’ll get it from another spider,” Alex explained. “Any manipulations with the law should be done one step at a time. When none of the bureaucrats break any rules, they don’t give a damn about the final result. Janet turned a blind eye on the time manipulations, one spider registered the marriage based on the spesh-certificates, and another one will now issue you a new ID.”
“So the whole thing is based on the fact that a spesh has two identity documents?” asked Kim.
“Exactly.”
“So naturals couldn’t have pulled it off?”
“Naturals never have any problems with the Imperial bureaucracy. The spiders just let them slide.”
A smiling waiter handed Alex a cigar. The restaurant was half-empty today. The workday was in full swing, and it was past the lunch hour. Alex thought wearily that he would probably have to sit around till very late in the evening.
“May I, Captain?”
It was the master-pilot he had met the other day. To approach a hiring person the second time, having once rejected the position, was considered somewhat rude… but Alex nodded yes. The man silently played with his sake cup. It seemed hard for him to start the conversation.
“I’ll be very glad if you have changed your mind,” ventured Alex.
The pilot drank up his sake in one gulp. Murmured:
“This is a hole of a planet, isn’t it?”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Really?” the pilot rejoined, with a sudden ironic note in his voice. “I’ve been trying to get hired onto a ship for two weeks now, and there hasn’t been anything better than a Hamster!”
“Strange. When I was looking for a job, I saw several galactic-route positions…”
“You don’t mean to say that you… got your job as a captain from an infonet search?” He looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“I did.”
“That means I am phenomenally unlucky,” the pilot scowled. “Astonishingly unlucky. I haven’t seen a single decent offer, let alone a captain’s post. Yesterday, a promising option did pop up, on a passenger liner… a local one, from this stinking garbage pit… Well, they didn’t take me! When I tried to register the contract, they told me to collect all the info about all the relatives on my mother’s side! Another great idea from the spider room….”
Alex snorted.
“Yes, I heard about that. When I went to have my papers issued.”
“I hope you’re not based here?”
“No, on Earth.”
“That’s good…” The pilot rolled the sake cup between his fingers. “Show me your contract, Captain. If I still suit you, of course.”
He placed his papers on the table in front of Alex, took a copy of the contract. Alex absently looked through the recommendations and evaluations. Xang Morrison, thirty-nine, free stations citizenship. Those born in space made the best pilots in the universe. A decent work record. Even better than Alex’s own, to be honest.
Quicksilver Pit wasn’t Earth or Edem. But it was a large and well-developed planet. And to have a master-pilot unable find a job here? For two weeks?
Very strange.
“Not bad,” said the pilot with bitter resentment, putting the contract aside. “Looks like the owners aren’t tight.”
“So it seems.”
“What is the Sky Company about?”
“I don’t know.”
“And where are we flying to?”
“Don’t know that, either.”
“Well, isn’t that nice…”
“They can’t require anything illegal,” said Alex with a shrug. “It’s a perfectly standard, union-approved contract.”
“I can see that. Captain, I won’t lie to you… two master-pilots can’t be happy on a tiny ship like Mirror. Can you take me on temporarily? Till you find another pilot? Then just give me the slip… I’ll get drunk while on duty, if you want, or show insubordination, or something. Just help me leave this awful hole!”
Alex thought for a moment. Morrison waited, tense and visibly on edge.
“But not until I find a good replacement…”
“I will be as diligent and obedient as a graduate on his first flight. Just find someone to replace me and kick me off on some halfway decent planet. Even New Africa will do.”
Alex couldn’t suppress a wry grin. To take aboard a pilot, knowing that he had no intention of staying for any length of time…
“Please, friend-spesh…” said Xang quietly.
“Go on and sign the contract,” Alex decided. Crunched the cigar in half in the ashtray.
His crew had been hired.
One hell of a weird crew, to tell the truth.
He himself, a master-pilot who could use some more work experience, just out of the hospital. A woman soldier and executioner from Eben in the role of a doctor. A girl barely out of metamorphosis as a fighter-spesh. A touchy natural navigator. A co-pilot who couldn’t find a job for two weeks, sitting at a huge transport crossroads. A young engineer who had brought their ship to Quicksilver Pit, thinking he was done with it… only to go right back aboard.