Minerva's Dirty Secret: Purple
18 Jan 2018Mack Winston
PREVIOUSLY...1. The Contract
2. Need To Know
Harvestport, Kappa Fornacis
Joe Kemper had surmised correctly - it hadn't been hard to find Mack Winston. He hadn't even needed to bribe dock control to find out where his ship was parked.
Here it was, in the bay 2 hangar. The Gutamaya Imperial Cutter, Alan Mathison Turing.
Joe grimaced as he looked up at the vessel. The ship, the pinnacle of Gutamaya engineering, was purple, with a huge onionhead logo on the left nacelle. He'd taken a graceful, beautiful ship and turned it into a garish monster. He shook his head sadly, and walked purposefully towards the entrance ramp.
There was no reply to the door-call, but the main entrance airlock was not secured. He opened it, and went inside. At least they'd not ruined the interior, it seemed to all be Gutamaya spec. The subtle interior furnishings, all in top quality materials, were in their usual good taste. Joe always felt that this was the other Empire. The old money, with all their fake wood panelling and attempt to recreate an aeon long dead, and then the new - the tasteful, well appointed and unpretentious Gutamaya ships.
He took a seat in the generous living quarters of the ship. It would at least be a comfortable place to wait, and Mack surely wouldn't be long if he'd left the ship open.
Ten minutes later...
"George Oppenheimer sounded like he'd actually miss us," Cal Vazquez remarked, as the pair boarded their ship.
"Yeah, I think he realises he has to deal with Horse now", Mack replied, following Cal up the Imperial Cutter's boarding ramp. "Also, we got an invite to the pre-launch party at Kippax Ring, we'll have to leave here a day early but I think we should go"
"Explorers throw parties?"
"Come on, don't tell me you're going to forget the August Exodus afterparty at Jaques..."
"Ugh, thanks for reminding me".
There had been an incident with an onionhead joint, mixed with an altogether too generous measure of absynthe, and it had resulted in a great deal of embarrassment. Cal just hoped everyone had forgotten about it.
"I wonder if that guy will be there, what was his name..."
"Shut up"
The pair reached the living quarters.
"I'm going to do one more tally on the supplies and make sure that coffee we ordered has been loaded, be back in a tic". Mack ambled off towards the ship's hold. The bay was mostly empty, enough food, beer, coffee - and of course, onionhead - Panem Gold, naturally - for a four month expedition didn't take up a lot of room in a Cutter's cavernous interior.
But he never got there. Cal's sudden shout made him screech to a halt.
The shouted words reverberated down the corridor. "Who the fuck are you?", came Cal's voice, his Achenarian accent loaded with indignance.
Whoever was replying was speaking rather more quietly. Mack paused, then slowly turned, and quietly began to make his way to the living quarters.
"I don't care who you are, get the fuck out before I..."
Mack hurried his pace.
"You don't think I will!?"
He skidded to a halt and pushed through the door into the living quarters. To his surprise, there was Joe Kemper, looking perfectly relaxed while Cal stood over him, just about to reach out and grab him by the collar.
"Ah, hi Joe," Mack said, slightly embarrassed
"You know this man?" Cal demanded, stabbing an accusing finger at Kemper.
"Yeah"
"You could have told me he was on board"
Mack sighed. He hadn't known that Joe Kemper, Norman Mosser's...staffer? Enforcer? would be sitting in the ship, waiting for him. The fact Joe Kemper was sitting here meant trouble.
Cal stumped off, and leaned against the wall with his arms folded. He didn't like surprises like this.
"Joe Kemper, meet Cal Vazquez. Cal, this is Joe. He's...a...an associate", Mack said, finally settling on the best description he could come up with.
"An associate, huh," Cal replied. Joe's face had taken up its familiar look of resigned inevitability.
"He's a -- "
Joe interrupted, speaking slowly. "I work for Norman Mosser. Your boyfriend has told you about Norman Mosser, I assume?"
Cal glanced at Mack and then back at Joe.
"Yeah, I know all about Norman, but that doesn't explain why you're here", Cal said, unsatisfied.
"Norman has a favour to ask of you", Joe stated, coming to the point.
Mack began his sarcastic rant that he knew he'd have to deliver sooner or later. "Ah, I wondered when this would happen. So Norman saves me from my murderous uncle, and now I'm expected to follow in my father's footsteps, to become Norman's personal reaper. Yeah. And I won't do it. I told Norman I wouldn't..."
"No one is asking you to murder anyone, and to anticipate your next objection, yes you will be paid properly" Joe interrupted testily. "Now just shut up and listen", he said without raising his voice.
Joe's rudeness temporarily stunned both Mack and Cal into silence.
"You're going on the Minerva Centaurus Expedition. There is a recovery job that Norman needs to be done, it's as simple as that"
"How do you know we're on the expedition?" Mack demanded.
"Your name has been on the public roster for the last three months," Joe replied, as if talking to a five year old. Yes, he thought, I could think of a thousand people better than this pair of buffoons to do this job...
"Here's the data," he added, sending it across. Cal continued to scowl at Joe, while Mack skimmed the details, pulling a face.
"That's a big volume of space to search through"
"The target system's in there," Joe said, shrugging. "Shouldn't be a problem"
"I see it. Eawrains BI-P c20-0. Uncharted, on the border of the Bleak Lands. So let's take a look?"
Mack started the ship's astro navigation plotter. The room lights dimmed to zero and a beautiful holographic rendition of the galaxy floated before them.
"Search Eawrains BI dash P c twenty dash zero"
The viewport slewed over the galaxy, hurtling along the eastern side of the galaxy, a dizzying array of stars sleeting past the three men - up the Scutum-Centaurus arm. It began to slow and expand over the Eawrains sector, the stars growing larger until they could be resolved as individual spheres of light.
"The Eawrains sector," Mack started. "Look around. Y class brown dwarves, T Tauris, M class, and a smattering of brighter stars. But overwhelmingly M class and brown dwarves. You could say it's the Brown Dwarf Highway, even"
"So not precisely exciting exploration," Joe observed.
"Well, there's often plenty of gems in these overlooked sectors of the galaxy. But you're right, not all that exciting. So we come to the system you say contains Norman's abandoned ship"
The map zoomed in further.
"This is the height of humanity's knowledge of the system, we know it's a spectral type K orange star. That's it. I can tell you for free a lot of the stars in this region will be devoid of planets. If this system has no planets, where will Norman's ship be? In some random orbit? Long dead, so feeble radio emissions at most that will be limited to light speed and maybe not detectable from supercruise"
"So, you'll have to spend a few days out of supercruise listening to the radio"
"And if it's landed on a planet, which one? Each planet has a huge search area"
"There is a preference list of planet types the crew will have followed. Start with the preferred type and work down."
"The crew?"
Joe sighed again. "Yes, the crew. They were instructed how to hide the ship, if a beacon should be set up, and how. The information is all in there. I suggest you read it carefully"
"Even so, it may be possible the ship is lost forever"
"Well, you better bring back good evidence of that"
"And the crew? What kind of reception are we going to get?"
"The crew will be dead. The ship was sent there in the early 70s"
The room fell silent.
"The seventies? The hyperdrives of that time..." Cal asked, skeptically.
Joe looked across the room, his face illuminated by the hologram of the star.
"It took a real feat of engineering, and they would have travelled for years"
"And the crew agreed?"
"They were clone agents that Norman had obtained"
Mack stood up and looked over the holographic map, rotating it so the bubble appeared behind the subject star from his perspective, and sighed.
"It's still probable that this ship can't be found"
Joe shrugged. "That's your problem, not mine"
"So there is one last question, before we accept this"
"Oh you will..." Joe predicted
"Was my father involved in this, at all?"
"Nope"
Mack relaxed slightly. If his father had been involved, then someone surely would find that he was going on the Minerva-Centaurus expedition suspicious even if they weren't actually looking for Norman's long lost ship. The Turing was unarmed, save for a ship-launched fighter and some countermeasures in case the Thargoids showed up. Suddenly having to arm the ship to deal with a possible human threat on the expedition would just draw attention.
"I'll see you in four months time," Joe said, "and Callum Vazquez," he said, turning to Cal, "don't think you don't owe Norman a favour or two". He turned and left.
Mack dismissed the galaxy map and the lights came up again. Cal was still leaning against the wall, his arms folded.
"Arrogant bastard," Cal grumbled, "and what did he mean by me owing Norman Mosser a favour?"
"I have no idea, and I'm sure the facts will inevitably present themselves at the least opportune possible moment"