Brad shrugged, eyes scanning the scene outside, and
replied dryly, "Hope it was worth your while. To us,
it was transportation. Any old tub would have done.
As it turned out, we were lucky."
"I'll accept that it's an 'old tub'. I gathered as
much from the reports I received," Drummer said,
"but I understand the primary systems are in good
condition, considering the vessel's history and the
spunnel shocks the ship must have experienced on
the way. How does it all fit together?"
"How does it concern you?" Brad turned to face
Drummer.
"Come, now." Drummer shook his head impatiently.
"Let's not act naive; it doesn't go with the rest
of you. But," he added waving his finger at Brad
as he turned away, "just so you don't make a habit
of responding to my questions with diversions, be
aware that I am a member of President Narval's
Council of Advisors. Despite the incident with
Scarf, I have considerable authority and resources
at my command.
"I've checked through my confidential sources in
the Inner Region," he went on, "and confirmed you
are all convicted criminals that escaped from a
Guardian Station prison. Now, for starters, how
did you manage to get a lift by spunnel and make it
this far without tearing that old wreck apart? Those
vessels don't have navigational gear for trips to
the rim, nor do they carry the required gear and
supplies. Straight answer."
"We're spacers," Brad said. "One of us is an
experienced maintenance engineer. Another is
a space navigator. We've all knocked about the
space-ways a bit on assorted jobs. I was Captain of
a freighter before the Space Guard and the Transport
Board took my ship away from me on trumped up
charges, and then sent me up for five years of
rehab. We teamed up on the Guardian Station, worked
out the details, kept our noses clean and our eyes
open, and, when the chance came, grabbed it. We did
have a few breakdowns, but we kept her moving along
until we could attach the ship to a convoy through
the spunnel. We took our chances and made it."
Drummer shook his head. A muscle twitched in his
jaw.
"The reports I received identified your former
professions and gave me the rest of your personal
histories. Frankly, it has me wondering: a ship's
captain, paramedic-logistics type, a maintenance
engineer, communications specialist, navigator, and
a weapons technician. Wasn't it odd to have these
special skills fall into place?"
"Not really," Brad countered. "I could have made up
any kind of crew I wanted. The station has lots of
spacers under lock and key. These folks happened
to fit in with my plans, and they were as anxious
to get out as I was. It worked. Now, what's the
problem?"
"The problem," Drummer replied, "is that a
half-dozen escaped convicts with exceptional space
skills make it to Planet Pluto; that one of them
defends a high level official in a tavern brawl,
making for himself a mortal enemy of their
sanctuary's chief security officer. To cap it, the
escaped convicts are now guests in the home of the
official that they defended in the bar-room scrape
who, I might add, also happens to be a member of
the President's Council. See the problem?"
"Crank this in," Brad remarked, "the citizen, who
considers himself a high government official,
moves about without a bodyguard thus inviting
confrontations. Also, his attacker's arrival at the
bar-room couldn't possibly have been predicted, let
alone his drunken behavior and my colleague and I
happening to be there. Add who it was that took the
initiative for departure from the tavern, and that
it was the high government official that invited
the escaped convicts to his home. He wasn't
threatened or coerced into extending his
hospitality."
Drummer grinned, nodded. "You ordered Hodak
to intervene. Why?"
"First, tell me more about Scarf."
Drummer shrugged.
"He's been with Narval since the beginning of the
regime. Did, and still does, most of the dirty work
that keeps any government in power, and he's
better at it than most. He has a special hatred
for dissidents to Narval's policies and uses
spies, informers and killers to infiltrate their
organizations and tear them apart. By the way,
he also had your ship searched. Watch out for
him. Now, my question."
"When Scarf began to hassle you, I had no idea of
his identity or position. His words and actions in
the bar-room gave me an impression that, if we
got you out of that mess, you might reciprocate
by helping us to get permission to remain on
the planet, and maybe steer us to jobs. It was
a chance. Now, as to your problem with us:
is it insurmountable?"
Drummer studied Brad's face, trying to read his
thoughts. "Not really, insofar as getting you and
your friends temporary resident status," he said.
"Scarf will not be easy with you and your friends,
especially my rescuer, Hodak. I'll talk to my
associates. The skills you have might be useful
to us. Since you're a former ship's captain, I'll
consider you spokesman for your colleagues."