“Initiating approach for manual docking. Just open the clamps and we’ll find our own way in.”
“Negative! Abort! Docking clearance is NOT granted!”
“Oh please, enough with this nonsense. Stop wasting time with your silly procedures. I have an appointment with Dr Rubin himself. ”
Lance Javeline turned to the screen where he had Anton Rubin on the station’s internal communications. Anton frantically waved his arms and shook his head signaling that he would see the captain of the Ashanti later rather than sooner.
“I… will have to confirm that. Abort your approach while I consult with the director.”
“Oh… what do we have here? A coolant leak! Requesting immediate emergency quickdock.”
“That’s not…” Lance burst out, but was interrupted by an alert siren as the station’s emergency override kicked in. He lent forward as the station shook from the collision.
Anton whispered into the intercom. “Was that the Ashanti docking? But I explicitly told you to not let her in!”
“There was no stopping her! She triggered an emergency dock procedure by clai...”
At that moment, Elsa Teufel marched into Anton's private study without bothering to knock. Anton quickly pressed the off button and jerked away from the intercom, pretending to be busy with something else.
“You should fire that Javelin guy. He exudes incompetence.”
Anton looked up as if he was surprised to see her.
“Elsa my dove! How good to see you! I wasn't expecting you back so...”
“Save that crap for later. That trade run you're trying to make me do is a waste of time. Why would I ship a cargo hold of oxygen for a crappy price, just so some hypochondriac Zoners can have a nice view? Is it their most common deathbed request or something?” Elsa raised an eyebrow and smirked in acknowledgment. "The view is nice though. You have to give them that."
"I... it's a diplomatic matter, my dear. We have to build alliances and make friends, and..."
"Oh gods, Anton. You've been suckered into a bad deal and pulled all the way over the table. Again." She stuck out her chin. "Let me talk to them."
"NO!!!" Anton winced. "Really, it's a very delicate..."
"Fine! But tell them the right price. I hope you can do that at least."
Elsa threw a data pad containing a commodity chart on Anton's desk. For a while, he just stared at the pad, lost in thought, for inexplicable reasons.
“Did you... get my pad from captain Javelin?” He ruffled his eyebrows and began to knead his lower lip with thumb and index finger, as he does when faced with especially tough riddles. “And how did you get here so fast, seconds after you docked?”
Elsa angrily picked up the pad and gave Anton a not very gentle pat on the forehead with it. "There's more than one of these in the universe, Dr Smartypants. I prepared the list on my way here from Baffin!”
"That's indeed a matter of perspective, since superluminal motion implies that observers -including themselves- may very well receive photons refracted from the traveler before and after the jump, making it appear as if there are two of the same. Did you take this pad along in any faster than light jumps recently?"
Elsa threw up her hands and raised her eyes to the ceiling "Oh gods! Spare me more of this nonsense!" Glaring back at Anton, she commanded "And you, don't accept to supply those Zoners below these prices. If you do you'll have to ship them yourself."
Long after Elsa had marched out of his lab, Anton was still staring at the data pad which was once again on the table, kneading his lower lip. After what seemed like an eternity to anyone but Anton, he said to himself:
“Yes. It's more nonsense.”
Patting his knees in a motion that signified he gave up on a line of thought, he read Elsa's price list and turned on the com.