Soon after that craziness with Hector Sloan, things started to calm down on Freeport 11 again. They didn't need volunteers anymore. Besides, I was getting itchy there... I needed some real sky again. So, I headed back to Canaria for some well needed R&R. A couple of weeks of that, though, and I was aching for the stars again... besides, money was starting to run short. As it happened, a friend made on Freeport 11 tipped me off to some solid work: the IMG was willing to pay me a heck of a lot of money to help mine Niobium out in the Taus dealing with a sudden surge in demand.
I've been there ever since. The original contract at Java Station has long since expired, but I've kept working out here, bouncing around from station to station and following demand. The mining work is therapeutic in a way, I guess. It's quiet and simple, and that's what I've needed lately after having way too much excitement.
I've been a bit worried, though: I haven't heard from Leroy Fenning for a long time. I left solid contact info on Canaria when I left, so it's not that he doesn't know where to find me... I guess the old man can take care of himself. I shouldn't worry too much: he'll find me if he needs me. I assume he took care of that scanner deal with the Hellfire Legion, since I haven't heard anything about it since. But then again, if the deal WAS sealed, he would have wanted to tell me about it... yeah, I'm worried a bit.
Just when you think things are getting to be normal, everything goes to space.
First, the rocks I had staked out for myself all turned out to be worthless. It was the most rotten kind of luck: asteroids that look like they're full of Niobium, but really only have a thin shell of it: not even enough to fully pay for the deed to them. Back to square one. Suddenly, mining isn't so much fun anymore.
Second, I got another mysterious message. This has become almost routine for me. For some reason, people like sending me mail with no return address. As usual, this one is both menacing and maddeningly vague. Worst of all, it cracks open a chapter in my life that I had thought long closed. Here it is:
Quote:Mr. Seldon, if you are listening to this message, I like you to know that I'm already dead. The other thing that I wanted you to know is that the reason why you didn't die in that hospital is also dead. At least, I believe he's expired now for breaking rule number four.
From one dead man to another, I'll tell you this. Run. Run, and never come back.
They're after you, Mr. Seldon. And they hold grudges very well. Remember that you know too much...
With graciousness and sincerity,
Lambert North
PS:
I broke rule number 8: Productivity at all costs.
Here we go again, I thought. Strangely, there was almost no sense of fear or paranoia. Still, I thought, idly readjusting my sidearm, it won't hurt to be a little extra careful for the next little while.
Unfortunately, the day wasn't over yet.
It happened on the observation deck of Java Station. I was busily devouring the best sandwich I'd ever come across: it even had fresh ingredients from the Freeport in Tau-37. The bartender told me it was a recipe as old as his family: he called it a "Reuben." He also charged a hefty price for it, but it was worth every credit.
A spry old man with long white hair walked into the bar. He was tall, thin, probably in his late seventies, and had a familiar look about him that I couldn't quite place. While I tried to figure out what about him was so familiar, he strode to the bar and ordered some Bretonian Whiskey. He waited until it was poured, and then whispered something to the barkeeper. I use the term "whisper" loosely: it was far too loud, although I still couldn't make it out from the other side of the deck. All I could tell was that it was some sort of question. The bartender listened, then looked straight at me... a question in his eyes. Good man, I thought, then shook my head. The bartender looked back at the old man and shook his head in turn. I heard him say "Sorry, I'm afraid he isn't here tonight." The old man visibly slumped, quaffed his whiskey, then turned for the exit.
I chewed thoughtfully on the last bite of my sandwich. So someone was looking for me. In light of the message I'd received earlier, caution was in order, but this old codger hardly looked like an assassin or bounty hunter. He was certainly tougher than he looked, but not that tough. Only one way to find out, I thought, then quietly got up and followed the old man out of the room.
He descended a few levels, into the cramped and dusty motel that had been built into Java station. It still existed because sleeping on a dusty bed in a tiny cabin was still slightly better than a bunk on a mining vessel. For a lot of IMG guys, this was luxury.
He swiped his card to open one of the rooms, and stepped in. I moved quickly, managing to slip in just before the door slid shut. My gun was already out before he had finished turning around to see what the noise was.
"Who the space are you?" I demanded, pointing my sidearm at his chest. The old man wore an expression of surprise and fear, mixed with... amusement?
"And who are you?" whispered a feminine voice right next to my ear. I froze as a gun barrel was placed in the small of my back, then quickly obliged by lowering and dropping my weapon.
The old man recovered from his initial shock, smiled, and said, "My name is Roger Fenning. I believe you know my son."
--
I can barely write... I'm utterly exhausted. I'll have to finish recording what happened next after I catch some sleep. It's hard to sleep when someone else is flying your ship, but I think I can trust Jysalia to keep the Aedos on course for at least a few hours.
Well, I've had my sleep, and we still have a few hours till we get to our destination. Now where was I?
--
"Who...wha?" was all that came out when I tried to speak. I swallowed, and tried again. "Uh, I'm Tannik Seldon," I managed to cough out, then added lamely, "but I think you've figured that out already."
The old man smiled. "A lucky guess. Leroy's told me a bit about you." So that's why he looked so familiar, I thought. He's Leroy Fenning's father! My thoughts were interrupted by the annoyed female voice behind me.
"Grandpa, you've got to be kidding me. THIS piece of space trash is the reason we've crossed all of Sirius?" The gun barrel in my back reluctantly withdrew, then reappeared in the hand of an angry young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She moved to her grandfather's side and scowled at me disapprovingly. "Grandpa" smiled at her, amused, then said,
"Mr. Seldon, this is my granddaughter Jysalia: Leroy's niece. An old man can't make like this without help, so I decided to bring her with me."
"Liar!" Jysalia said, her scowl flashing in an instant to an impish grin. "What really happened is that he tried to sneak away alone, so I snuck into his ship when nobody was looking. By the time he found me, it was too late to turn around."
The old man sighed. "It's true. But I wouldn't have made it this far without the little stowaway."
Jysalia gave a satisfied nod, then turned to her Grandfather, momentarily forgetting about me. "Oh! I've got bad news, Grandpa," she said. "It looks like the hologram in Leroy's office has just run out of batteries. People are going to find out that he's not there any day now."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "What happened to Leroy?"
The old man opened his mouth to answer, but was impatiently waved to silence by his granddaughter. "He's missing," she said curtly, turning to face me with both hands on her hips, then continued with hardly a pause for breath. "and has been for several months, it looks like. What's funny is that he carefully set things up so that nobody would notice he was gone: he hired new office staff, set up some holograms to impersonate him, and automated all of his regular business. He did a very good job, probably because he used to be a spy, and nobody noticed all this time, until Grandpa went to visit him and found nothing but a hologram in his office and no sign of him anywhere. Oh, and the note that brought us all the way out here. The only thing I can't figure out is why Leroy would have anything to do with a space bum like you."
There was a pause while my mind raced to catch up with the breathless pace of my words, followed by resentment. "Space bum?" I said, annoyed, then paused, and caught my reflection in a mirror. She has a point, I had to admit ashamedly. My hair was matted with oil and dust, and my flight suit hadn't been washed for a month at least. You lose track of things like this when you live on a station where nobody cares about appearance and routinely gets involved in dirty work. I frowned at my reflection: I certainly didn't look like the clean-faced, shining Cadet that once flew for the Liberty Navy.
Jysalia gave a satisfied nod, and her frown disappeared. Apparently she was temporarily satisfied with my obvious guilt and embarrassment. "Yes. There was a note addressed to Grandpa, with your name and some sort of number: hang on," Jysalia bounded to a brown shoulder bag leaned against the wall and started rummaging through it. A second later, she handed me single page with the following:
-- Poddiboo!
Tannik Seldon
1241-D
--
1241-D... my mind whirled. Images of white corridors and a small, sterile room mixed with feelings of helplessness and paranoia.
"Well?" Jysalia demanded, her insistent voice cutting through my thoughts. Roger Fenning, who had been watching with interest, leaned forward.
"1241-D," I said slowly, "was the room where I was imprisoned in Denver Hospital. But what does that have to do with anything? And what is 'Poddiboo?'"
This time, Roger spoke up. "When Leroy was a child, one of his favorite games was to hide from me. When I found him, he would shout "Poddiboo!" I believe that this a way of telling me that he is hiding somewhere, in a way that doesn't mean anything to anyone else. We'd hoped that your name meant he was hiding with you, but this unfortunately does not seem to be the case."
Jysalia piped up. "But the space bum knew what the number meant: just like 'Poddiboo', it wouldn't mean anything to anyone else. Maybe he's hiding at Denver Hospital!"
"But who's he hiding from?" I wondered out loud.
"It doesn't matter!" Jysalia yelled, "He wouldn't have hidden if he weren't in trouble, and if he's in trouble we need to help him. Are you coming or what?"
"Of course I'm coming!" I yelled back, then paused, embarrassed. Jysalia seemed taken aback, then gave another satisfied nod. Roger Fenning simply smiled.
"I believe my granddaughter is right," he said. "Let's go. Between the holograms failing and the Hellfire Legion, we have no time to lose."
Jysalia and her grandfather quickly started packing, collecting their few but scattered belongings as quickly as they could. I grabbed Roger, and whispered a question at him. "What about the Hellfire Legion?"
"They never got their money for that scanner you and Leroy arranged to buy from them," Roger answered, "Apparently Leroy disappeared before he could deliver, and they're getting impatient. Don't worry, I've started gathering some funds, but I'm not as good at this kind of thing as my son is. Hopefully it can get put together soon."
Indeed, I thought. The Hellfire Legion is not a group that you want to have annoyed at you.
After only a couple of minutes, I found myself following the odd pair down the corridors of Java station. I'm still not sure how I ended up carrying all of Jysalia's things for her. I was so busy juggling them that I crashed into her at the entrance to the docking bay. She was staring open-mouthed, and her grandfather was standing with his shoulders slumped. I followed their gaze to an empty space on the hangar deck...and then it clicked.
"Oh." I said, "I guess that's where your ship was supposed to be. You did remember to tip the guards, right?" Jysalia gave me a withering glare. Her grandfather shook his head.
"No. Were we supposed to?" he asked uselessly.
"Only if you want them to stop people when they try to steal your ship," I responded a little too glibly. The icy look Jysalia gave me made me regret it immediately. "Look," I said to her as calmly as I could manage, "I'm sorry. That's just how it is, it's rough out here. Here, we'll take my ship. I'm going with you guys anyway, right? Easier to travel in one ship anyway."
An hour later, we were on our way. It was pretty crowded: the Aedos wasn't designed for hosting crowds. Jysalia made her disapproval clear, then plopped herself into the copilot chair before I could object. After an hour-long argument that I won't record here, I reluctantly let her take the helm while I got some sleep. It turns out she isn't a half-bad pilot. Meanwhile, Roger managed to find an old space-cot somewhere and has been snoring up a storm since we got out of the Taus.
![[Image: aedos_mini.jpg]](http://students.cs.byu.edu/~sushi/aedos_mini.jpg)