The Journal of Caius Oakley

[Coin]

After washing up and changing out of the old greasy coveralls I wear when crawling around a ship, I stood in the doorway of the Cambridge spaceport bar in a clean T-shirt and jeans, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom. Truth be told, I wasn't sure if she'd still be waiting. Maybe I did take a little longer with my new 'toy' than I would have done, maybe getting spruced up was a waste of time, but keeping a lady waiting is one thing, but being late and filthy is another.

I crossed the room to the bartender, weaving my way through the crowd that packed the tables and stood four deep at the bar, their eyes glued to the football match on the screen - The Navy Arsenal V London - a big local derby. The bartender was likewise fixated, and poured my beer without taking his eyes off the screen. Dumping my change in a puddle of beer was a nice touch too.

The room was too packed for me to search properly, and as I was casting about for a place to sit and watch the football, I felt a damp hand on my elbow.

'You took your time didn't you? Come on into the back'.

"Interesting", I thought. "Little Miss Confident is as nervous as a virgin at an orgy. What's going on here?".

Wedged into the corner booth, the bulk of his gut straining against the polished steel table, his manner was as brusque as it was imperious. 'Sit down, Mr. Oakley'.

I perched on the steel stool, its pre-formed shape cutting into the backs of my legs. Those 'tractor' type squabs are fairly comfortable if you sit properly, but the stool was bolted to the floor, and I wanted to be able to make a quick getaway into the scrum around the bar - there was something about this man I didn't entirely trust. He was too richly dressed to be a regular patron of a seedy spaceport bar, his fleshy face made him look far younger than the age his grey hair belied - late fifties I would guess.

'Are you the Captain of the new Firefly on the landing pad?' he said.

'Yes I am. Who are you?'

'My name is Alex D'Aubeny, I believe that you have already met my daughter Beatrice'.

I nodded, and looked at each of them in turn. Beatrice looked worried, a far remove from the confidence she had shown earlier, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. No ring I thought. Alex's face gave no hint to his emotional state, and his eyes took in more than they gave away.

'I have a job for you, one that will make you a lot of credits', he said.

I said nothing, merely waited. If I know one thing, its that risk and reward are bosom buddies, and I was waiting for his pitch.

'You are familiar with the Planet Kurile in the Sigma 17 system, I take it?'

I nodded, and opened my mouth to speak. 'But-'

'Good. I wish to travel there with a minimum of fuss, as quickly as possible, avoiding Rhineland space'.

"Ahh" I thought. "This is where the risk comes into the equation" 'And you need someone to sneak you through Omicron Theta?'

'Exactly. Furthermore, I insist on exclusivity'.

'You want to be alone in the cargo hold? No other passengers?' My eyes flicked towards Beatrice.

'No, Mr. Oakley, Beatrice will not be accompanying us. She will be waiting here on Cambridge, as will your payment. I will pay you 25 million credits to charter your ship to Kurile and back, as long as we remain undetected'.

'Undetected-'

'Exactly. I do not wish it to be known that I have visited Kurile. My business rivals would read much into it, and are not above arranging a warm reception in an asteroid field somewhere'.

"O-kay, so, ghost to Kurile and back, avoiding the mercenaries AND the pirates" 'Why not arrange for a fighter wing escort, I have some reliable friends that-'

'No, Mr. Oakley, the less people that know about this the better'.

At this point I was getting nervous too. I didn't like the idea of being the only one who knew he had gone to Kurile. 'I'm thinking this gift horse has got wooden teeth. How do you know that I'll keep your secret?'

Beatrice leaned forward, apparently able to read my emotional state as well as I could hers. 'Relax Caius, you're quite safe. You don't know why he will be going there, nor do you know what business interests you are protecting'.

All this was true, of course. I was completely in the dark here; thinking I had nothing to lose, I fired off the proverbial shot. 'So why are the pair of you so damn nervous then?' Beatrice jumped, but Alex merely smiled.

'Ah, my dear, you have excelled yourself. You have found us an astute captain'.

"Astute? Who talks like that?" 'Sorry?'

'My father means that you have seen more than we wished to reveal. We have been waiting on Cambridge for a suitable pilot for 9 days now, and with each passing day, the more likely it was that the 'business rivals' would send someone. Whilst you are relatively unknown around here, we are confident that you have not contacted anyone since I talked to you in the ship dealer's hangar'.

I was liking this less and less. They were keeping tabs on me? The way she said 'business rivals' was the same as someone referring to pirates as 'legitimate businessmen'. I said sharply, 'How do you know that?', but it was Alex who replied.

'The barman. If he had engaged you in conversation, we would know that you were an employee of one of my rivals. If he had given your change into your hand, we would know that you had contacted someone. As it was, he ignored you and dumped your change on the bar, telling us that you were in the clear. In my line of work, I have to be on my guard against those who would steal industrial secrets. Those who steal secrets and those who guard against such perfidy are well-versed in the tactics of 'tells' and 'counter-tells' The blank expression that you are currently sporting on your face, plus the look of disgust as you were scooping the coins out of the stale beer is a reliable indicator that you are not inured to these strategies.'

This was starting to stink to high heaven. A pretty girl approaches me with an offer of work, and then I discover that I've been weighed and measured without my knowing. As it was, they had played their hand, and I had nothing to trump their bids. They were offering a huge lump of money for a difficult but not impossible job, I already knew the destination, I knew that it was to be kept secret, and I knew that they had resources and skills that were beyond my ken. I didn't know any more about them than that, and they seemed to know far more about me than I deemed as good for the health of one Caius Oakley. Talk about the 'carrot-and-stick' approach. It was looking like it was going to be more dangerous to refuse the offer than dodge pirates and mercenaries in the omegas AND omicron theta. Beatrice was right - only a fool WOULD refuse, but I suspect he wouldn't be around long to regret his decision.

That said, I was in a bit of hole financially, as the purchase of the Firefly had hit my credits hard, and 25 million was a nice comfort zone. The way I saw it, I could refuse and maybe meet some 'legitimate businessmen' in the near future, or I could go through with it and maybe come out the other side 25m to the good. So, this is what they mean by Hobson's Choice? I thought.
'Ok, Ill do it'. As soon as I said this, they both exhaled "Oh-ho-ho! Was that a sigh of relief? Maybe Mr. Alex cool-as-a-cucumber DAubeny isnt as in control of his emotions as I thought".

Wriggling out from behind the table, Alex said 'Excellent Mr. Oakley. Ill have my luggage sent down to the landing pad immediately. I want to take off before the hour'.

'Luggage? How long did you want to stay on Kurile?'

'Oh no, its just some papers. I expect to make landfall and clear the docking ring within an hour.'

"With that fast a turn around, hes either buying or selling information. What does he want with Samura? if it is Samura at all". I turned to Beatrice 'How do I contact you when I return to Cambridge?'

Beatrice smiled, which was worth waiting for. 'There's plenty of time to discuss that on the landing pad while we wait for the luggage. Come on'.

"Ok" I thought. "Still frosty, but not as frosty. Lets get this run done, maybe she'll warm up to a guy better with 25 big ones in the bank."

Of course, when we got to the landing pad, she was ALL business. Chatting was just another way of keeping tabs on me, making sure that I didn't contact any 'business rivals' without me noticing. It worked, too. I was too busy noticing her whilst I finished the pre-launch checks, scanning the news bulletins for recent pirate reports. I was to report to the ship dealer on Cambridge, and ask him about the availability of armour upgrades for my Firefly. He would give the location to meet Beatrice to receive payment.

Alex's luggage arrived on a floating cargo loader. Whatever was inside that battered and dented escape-pod sized container was heavy, judging by the grunts and muffled curses of the dock hands as they loaded it into the cargo hold of the Firefly. "Is that actually papers, or am I shipping someone who doesnt want to go to Kurile?" By contrast, Alex's luxury VIP transporter was brand new - the armoured plexiglass of the life-support control screens were still covered by the scratch resistant plastic films the manufacturers use. "So this is a new experience for him too", I thought.

Compared to his earlier sartorial elegance that conflicted with his surroundings, Alex's clothing now suited the situation perfectly. His dark blue jumpsuit, the battered clipboard with a pen hanging from a string, the bulk of his abdomen pinched by the worn tool belt made him look like just another old-time Flight Engineer. The passing dock hands didn't give him a second look as he walked up the cargo ramp.

The brusque manner was still in evidence, but it seemed just as in character for this 'Flight Engineer' as it was for the 'Shipping Magnate' persona "Which is the real you?" I thought.

'You do know how to operate a VIP transporter, don't you Mr. Oakley?' This task is usually done by the dock hands, but I had seen them enough times to be confident with the equipment.

'You'll be fine in there' I said.

'I know that' he snapped, 'but they're never as comfortable as the manufacturers pretend'.

"So, not your first trip then. But where is your old transporter?" At 5 million a pop and a lifetime guarantee, they're not discarded lightly. I must confess a slight sigh of relief as I closed the entry hatch on him, his 'now do this, now do that' attitude was getting on my nerves. As a commodity, VIP's or 'Self Loading Cargo', make up for the profits by the sheer amount of whingeing. At least Boron doesn't answer back.

I walked down the cargo ramp, activating the close and lock controls, and turned towards the cockpit ladder. Waiting for me at the base of the ladder was a very agitated Beatrice.

'Passenger and luggage safely stowed. Ready to launch', I said. Well, if she could be brisk and business-like, so could I.

Tears welled up in her eyes. 'Please Caius, be careful. I know that Papa can be bossy, but he gets that way when he is nervous'.

'It'll be fine. Don't worry'

She leaned fowards and kissed my cheek. 'Bonne chance', she said, turning on her heel and walking back into the spaceport complex without a backwards glance.

"What the hell IS going on here?" I thought, as I closed the cockpit hatch behind me.

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