Hammer considered the point. Jeth held his breath, leery of Hammer’s response and what it might reveal about his real intentions. Will he let me go? It would mean the end of the Malleus Shades. There was no way Jeth would leave Peltraz without the rest of the crew—assuming they wanted to leave with him.
When Hammer finally answered, his tone was too genial. “Like I said before, I do like you Jeth. So, let’s make it ten-k a piece for your crew, and we’ve got a deal.”
Jeth’s heart plunged like a boulder down his chest into his stomach. Hammer’s answer was all wrong. He’d given in too easily. Jeth could tell when he was being placated. For whatever reason, Hammer wanted Jeth happy and committed to the job.
Emboldened by a sense of futility, Jeth decided to keep playing Hammer’s game. “Ten-k it is, but I want the money and Avalon’s title in my name upfront.”
Hammer laughed. “No way. You’ll have no incentive to complete the job if I give you all that.”
“It’s like you said, the Belgrave’s got a reputation. The crew will be a little happier with that kind of reassurance. I mean, who’s to say if we fly in there that we’ll ever fly out again?”
Hammer sneered. “Those rumors are grossly exaggerated, as you well know.”
“Maybe, but the ITA shut down all the trade routes through it for some reason or other.” They’d done it not long after Jeth’s parents returned from their last expedition. Milton had told him that, for a time afterward, the ITA had sent dozens of explorer ships into the Belgrave. Whether or not they found what they were looking for Jeth didn’t know, but they’d kept the routes closed ever since.
“That’s just because the ITA wants to force travelers to use an extra gate to go around it rather than save money by flying through it,” said Hammer. “Really, I thought you had the measure of them by now.”
Jeth smacked his lips. He did have the measure of them. Greed. Same as everybody else.
Hammer sighed at Jeth’s lack of response. “Fine. I’ll give you half the money upfront.”
“What about the papers?” Jeth said, deliberately pressing now.
“I’ll give you a copy of the transfer papers, but I’m not signing until after you come back.”
Jeth exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It was better than nothing. Signatures could be forged. And it was a sign of good faith, for whatever that might be worth. He supposed there was still a chance that Hammer would honor the arrangement, that he was just being paranoid because of what Renford had said. “Okay, it’s a deal. Now, what are the details on the lost ship?”
Hammer leaned forward, his manner all business now. “It’s called the Donerail. I’ll have the specifics on it loaded into Avalon’s databanks in the morning. Your job is simple. Find the ship and haul her in. I’ll give you two weeks to search for her. If you haven’t found her by then, you need to come out of the Belgrave and check in with me.”
“Okay,” Jeth said. “But why do you want the ship? Surely not for the metadrive. There’s no guarantee it’s even working, right?”
“No, it’s not the metadrive this time.” Hammer drummed his fingers against the table, as if debating how much to tell him. “The ship’s carrying a . . . weapon. Something new and valuable, of course.”
Of course. Jeth sighed, a little disappointed. New or not, weapons were nothing special. All they did was kill and destroy. That song and dance was as ancient as human beings.
“The weapon’s dangerous, too,” Hammer added. “And it could be unstable. I’ve got to insist that nobody boards the ship.”
Jeth frowned. Exploring the ship might’ve been the only fun part of this job. Then again, the weapon could be viral or radioactive.
“I mean it, Jeth,” said Hammer. “If you do board her, then our little agreement about Avalon goes null and void, as well as the money. Understand?”
“Yes,” Jeth said, agreement a given. He’d rather face an ITA firing squad than death from radiation poisoning.
“Besides, there’s no reason you should have to board,” Hammer continued. “The Donerail disappeared two months ago, well beyond its food and water capacity. Any passengers would be long gone by now. The ship’s a Marlin.”
Jeth nodded. Marlins were a transport class, short-range ship, the fastest of their kind and surprisingly well-armed and well-shielded for non-military vessels. This made them the ship of choice for corporations that had expensive goods to transport as well as for pirates and smugglers. Jeth supposed if someone had a secret weapon they needed to move quickly, a Marlin made sense.
He wanted to ask more, but he worried Hammer would wonder about his interest beyond the basics, which usually sufficed for him. He would have to do some research on the net when he got home instead. He’d get Lizzie to help. She had a knack for tracking down information.
“How soon do you want us to leave?” Jeth asked.
“Right away. I’ll have Avalon stocked and fueled by tomorrow morning.”
“All right, we’ll fly out not long after.”
“Good. I’ll expect to hear from you in two weeks. Now, I’m sure you can let yourself out the way you came.”
Jeth retreated from the room, walking slowly, though he felt like running. His mind churned with doubts and questions. What would the crew think if they found out how much money they could’ve made? Why had Hammer agreed to his terms so quickly? What was his endgame? Nothing good, Jeth was certain.
When Hammer finally answered, his tone was too genial. “Like I said before, I do like you Jeth. So, let’s make it ten-k a piece for your crew, and we’ve got a deal.”
Jeth’s heart plunged like a boulder down his chest into his stomach. Hammer’s answer was all wrong. He’d given in too easily. Jeth could tell when he was being placated. For whatever reason, Hammer wanted Jeth happy and committed to the job.
Emboldened by a sense of futility, Jeth decided to keep playing Hammer’s game. “Ten-k it is, but I want the money and Avalon’s title in my name upfront.”
Hammer laughed. “No way. You’ll have no incentive to complete the job if I give you all that.”
“It’s like you said, the Belgrave’s got a reputation. The crew will be a little happier with that kind of reassurance. I mean, who’s to say if we fly in there that we’ll ever fly out again?”
Hammer sneered. “Those rumors are grossly exaggerated, as you well know.”
“Maybe, but the ITA shut down all the trade routes through it for some reason or other.” They’d done it not long after Jeth’s parents returned from their last expedition. Milton had told him that, for a time afterward, the ITA had sent dozens of explorer ships into the Belgrave. Whether or not they found what they were looking for Jeth didn’t know, but they’d kept the routes closed ever since.
“That’s just because the ITA wants to force travelers to use an extra gate to go around it rather than save money by flying through it,” said Hammer. “Really, I thought you had the measure of them by now.”
Jeth smacked his lips. He did have the measure of them. Greed. Same as everybody else.
Hammer sighed at Jeth’s lack of response. “Fine. I’ll give you half the money upfront.”
“What about the papers?” Jeth said, deliberately pressing now.
“I’ll give you a copy of the transfer papers, but I’m not signing until after you come back.”
Jeth exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It was better than nothing. Signatures could be forged. And it was a sign of good faith, for whatever that might be worth. He supposed there was still a chance that Hammer would honor the arrangement, that he was just being paranoid because of what Renford had said. “Okay, it’s a deal. Now, what are the details on the lost ship?”
Hammer leaned forward, his manner all business now. “It’s called the Donerail. I’ll have the specifics on it loaded into Avalon’s databanks in the morning. Your job is simple. Find the ship and haul her in. I’ll give you two weeks to search for her. If you haven’t found her by then, you need to come out of the Belgrave and check in with me.”
“Okay,” Jeth said. “But why do you want the ship? Surely not for the metadrive. There’s no guarantee it’s even working, right?”
“No, it’s not the metadrive this time.” Hammer drummed his fingers against the table, as if debating how much to tell him. “The ship’s carrying a . . . weapon. Something new and valuable, of course.”
Of course. Jeth sighed, a little disappointed. New or not, weapons were nothing special. All they did was kill and destroy. That song and dance was as ancient as human beings.
“The weapon’s dangerous, too,” Hammer added. “And it could be unstable. I’ve got to insist that nobody boards the ship.”
Jeth frowned. Exploring the ship might’ve been the only fun part of this job. Then again, the weapon could be viral or radioactive.
“I mean it, Jeth,” said Hammer. “If you do board her, then our little agreement about Avalon goes null and void, as well as the money. Understand?”
“Yes,” Jeth said, agreement a given. He’d rather face an ITA firing squad than death from radiation poisoning.
“Besides, there’s no reason you should have to board,” Hammer continued. “The Donerail disappeared two months ago, well beyond its food and water capacity. Any passengers would be long gone by now. The ship’s a Marlin.”
Jeth nodded. Marlins were a transport class, short-range ship, the fastest of their kind and surprisingly well-armed and well-shielded for non-military vessels. This made them the ship of choice for corporations that had expensive goods to transport as well as for pirates and smugglers. Jeth supposed if someone had a secret weapon they needed to move quickly, a Marlin made sense.
He wanted to ask more, but he worried Hammer would wonder about his interest beyond the basics, which usually sufficed for him. He would have to do some research on the net when he got home instead. He’d get Lizzie to help. She had a knack for tracking down information.
“How soon do you want us to leave?” Jeth asked.
“Right away. I’ll have Avalon stocked and fueled by tomorrow morning.”
“All right, we’ll fly out not long after.”
“Good. I’ll expect to hear from you in two weeks. Now, I’m sure you can let yourself out the way you came.”
Jeth retreated from the room, walking slowly, though he felt like running. His mind churned with doubts and questions. What would the crew think if they found out how much money they could’ve made? Why had Hammer agreed to his terms so quickly? What was his endgame? Nothing good, Jeth was certain.
