South of the Ecliptic. Donald Ph.D. Ladew
"Captain, begging your pardon, you really should pay more attention to the ladies. You've promoted and demoted me so many times during the past seven years I worry the lack of feminine contact is causing you cell damage."
Piehl chuckled and threw the bar rag at him. Flex ducked and easily picked it out of the air.
"Listen, Private Holtzman, we'd better forget the problems of the flesh and figure how we're going to pay the docking fees. You called me with what sounded like a possible contract."
Piehl took a seat in a relaxor and waited for Flex to tell him what was going on.
"Captain, would you be willing to take a contract beyond the frontier, in the Dark Worlds?"
"Damn, Flex, you know how I feel about that. We aren't set up for that kind of action. Those people are renegades. Try to remember we've no armament on the Goddard at all."
"Sure, Captain, sure. I know how you feel. I don't want to go anywhere near the rim."
Piehl worried when Flex agreed with him.
"Captain, I wouldn't give it a thought, except we've been offered 25,000 prime credits to escort an important personage out that way...and the use of an armed Gideon Class Merchant for the trip. They'll also put up credit to fill the holds with whatever we might want for trade when we get there."
" Did you say 25,000 prime credits!"
Great Gods, Piehl thought, we'd be out of debt with credits to spare. Oh! Oh! Here I go, one minute filled with resolve, the next a slavering enthusiast, ready for the lure. Piehl knew he should tell Flex to forget it, but those credits completely numbed his brain. So be reasonable, Aubrey, Piehl said to himself. You can listen, right? Can't hurt to listen. You don't have to do anything.
Flex smiled and said nothing. Piehl couldn't stand it.
"So, who would we have to take out there? Is it legal? No, strike that. Is it political?" Piehl learned a long time ago that political can get your days shortened a lot quicker than illegal. Finally he ran out of questions.
"Look, Captain, you don't want to go, it's okay. Something will turn up before Firstday."
"Huh? What's with Firstday?" he asked.
"Oh, that's when our credit runs out, and the docking fees are due."
"That soon? I thought we had more time."
"Nope, afraid not," Flex said with a doleful look. "They're going to stick us on Work List Zero."
The hook was firmly embedded. Piehl gave in to curiosity. "You'd better tell me about it." The Dark; bad dreams. Oh well, better than cleaning sewers beneath the Rockpile, as Central City was fondly called. Piehl was not happy.
"Okay," said Flex. "It's not a big deal, we fix up a nice space for the girl..."
"Girl!" Piehl groaned. "What girl? Not on a ship, Flex, you have got to quit drinking that five minum slop, it's turning your brain to mud."
Flex went on totally unmoved by Piehl's ranting. "The girl and her companions..."
"Companions! Great. What the hell, it gets dull on those long runs anyway."
Flex waited patiently for Piehl to run down then went on as though nothing had happened. "Well, there's always Central City's great cloaca, which I'm told an army of ten thousand couldn't clean in a year."
Piehl was still grumbling. "I always knew there was a lot of crap in this world."
Flex laughed. "Well if we don't get off the pot, so to speak, we're going to get to look at it up close."
Flex waited a moment. "Please listen, Captain. There's the girl, her companion, and an Imperial Sufic Warrior as guard. Her uncle is Viceroy of the Beyond The Rim Hegemony. She's being sent there to cool off after some foolishness she got up to with a captain in the Royal Standard. All we have to do is get her to her uncle, sell our goods, and cruise back to Regent with a week over at Joy to unwind."
Joy! Oooooo...No! Business, you idiot, don't start thinking about Joy. Bad things happen in the Dark Worlds, terminally bad.
"Wait a minute," Piehl held his hand. "Flex, you keep saying Imperial this and Royal that, just who are we talking about here? Who is this girl?"
"Oh, she's First Princess Iralane, daughter of his Royal Highness Karl Tellemann the Eighteenth. You remember him, sir, the fellow you were chatting with the other evening?"
No! Piehl felt it all now. Well and truly hooked
It's political, I knew it.
At that moment three figures in stealth cloaks appeared through the back door near the spice dispenser. Two were small and one looked as if he could pick up the Bar and carry it to the other side of the spaceport.
From the smallest cloak came a high pitched sound of disgust.
"Mister Holtzman, you specifically told us this ‘Piehl’," her voice dripped contempt, "was a tough, ingenious, brave ship's captain, who always gets the job done. Sounds like a whimpering old man to me."
The slight, sibilant lisp of royal speech further accented her contempt.
Old man, now there's a cruel shot! Piehl grunted. Flex's comments regarding my prowess sound like an epitaph to me.
The large figure of the Imperial Sufic stood silent, unmoving, as though someone had carved him from rock. He was an impressive man with his great height, draped in the Green and gray robes of the order.
Then a soft voice came from beneath the other figure's opaque hood. "Be quiet, Iralane. Captain Piehl, please let me explain our situation. I am the Lady Giselle Lociranou and ..."
Piehl came to with a start. "Forgive me, my lady, I was caught up in your voice and didn't get what you said."
There was a musical chuckle. "You are forgiven, sir."
"Well, if you two can restrain the sweet talk, maybe we can get on with this whole stupid exercise." The princess was getting to be a royal pain.
The lady's mellow voice went on. "All that is needed, sir, is to make safe journey to the home of the princess's uncle on Back'n'Beyond. We are aware that it is a long trip. I'm sure we'll all do our best not to get under foot. The Princess and I can both use blast pistols, and I have held the post of ship's communication officer. We will be able to help in any difficulties that might arise."
"Difficulties? What difficulties? Is there something you haven't mentioned?" Piehl said.
"Your pardon, Captain. If you will be patient. As you know, His Royal Highness is under attack from several areas. Since the recent reverses at Orianne and Flamingo's Star, there are those in government and elsewhere who would harm the King, and failing that, try to get at him through his family.
"If I may interrupt. Granted you are who you say you are, why hire itinerant traders like Flex and me? Wouldn't it be easier for the Princess’s father to assign a fast tracker squadron as escort?"
"Yes, maybe, but His Highness is concerned that treachery has reached the top echelons of the Royal Navy. Therefore he wanted a more…circumspect method of travel. No, Captain, I am afraid you are his choice. His Highness was specific. He said, ‘Get Piehl, I know the man, he'll get the job done'."
Well, crap, Piehl thought. His Highness is most generous with his confidence. Faith, however won't smash a Raider.
Piehl wondered why he was carping. He was going to do it, he couldn't say no. The King had done the one thing Piehl couldn't ignore. He had shown respect for the Legion. He knew his protest was meaningless, that they might just as well get on with it.
She went on. "I trust the King, if he says it can be done, and you're the one to do it, I believe him."
"Many thanks, my lady. It happens that I also trust the King. Look, just suppose Flex and I do this,