turned events in the Karuzari’s favor. However, no amount of subterfuge had been able to overcome the dying rebellion’s waning support, the result of years of brutal and aggressive counter-terrorism tactics used by the current commanders of the Ta’Akar military. But the recent string of failures at turning the tides of war had not discouraged her to the point of surrender. Not yet.

Jalea turned and entered a small cafe on the corner of one of the smaller buildings. The inside of the shop was warm and smelled of freshly baked pastries. There were a dozen or so small tables scattered about, with several stools at each of the counters running along the two main windows.

“Good afternoon. What can I get you?” the young man behind the counter inquired.

“Hot spiced tea and a sweet roll, please,” she told him, pulling out her small coin purse. A few moments later, the young man returned with her order and collected her payment. “Do you have any terminals?” she asked, holding up her comm-unit.

“They’re built into the window counters,” the man instructed. “Just drop your unit into the slot and the display will sync up to the net.”

“Thank you,” she said, flashing a smile at the young man. She moved to the counter on her right, taking the seat at the far end, making sure she was as removed from any of the other patrons as possible. It was mid afternoon on Corinair, and as expected, the cafe was not busy. So there were few prying eyes to be concerned about.

Jalea placed her tea and pastry on the glass counter as she took her seat. She pulled the interplanetary comm-unit from her bag and dropped it into the small slot just as the man behind the counter had instructed. The section of the glass counter directly in front of her lit up, displaying the logo of the Corinair data and communications network. She moved her tea and pastry aside in order to have a clear view of her screen.

She spent the next ten minutes casually sipping her tea and dining on her sweet roll in much the same manner as any other patron might have done on an afternoon break. Her fingers danced and drew lines across the glass counter as she manipulated the display underneath. She checked on the local weather forecast, caught up on the news, and even spent time checking for local dining sites and local taverns. After writing down on a napkin the address of a nearby tavern of interest, she removed the comm-unit and returned it to her bag.

After discretely checking for any undue attention, she pulled one of the local comm-unit from her jacket pocket and dropped it into the same slot. Again, the display lit up. She immediately called up the appropriate interface and composed a brief message that simply read ‘Karuzari Leader currently hiding on Corinair along with mysterious disappearing warship.’ and signed it ‘TM’. She addressed the message to the Ta’Akar Office of Military Intelligence on Corinair, encrypted it, and sent it off.

As quickly as possible, but without attracting attention to herself, she wiped her fingerprints off the glass counter, pulled her comm-unit out of the slot, wiped it down and place it into her jacket pocket, still wrapped in the napkin, as she picked up her bag and walked out of the cafe.

Once back on the pedestrian walkway, she quickly made her way to the nearest monorail station and ascended the stairs to the boarding platform. She waited patiently for the next car to arrive, which took no more than a few minutes. Stepping onto the crowded car, she moved into position, pulled the comm-unit from her jacket pocket, and immediately bumped into an older gentleman in a business suit carrying a shopping bag. As she bumped into him, she dropped the comm-unit into his bag.

“Oh, please excuse me,” she said, pretending to be embarrassed.

The gentleman turned toward her, prepared to reprimand her for her clumsiness, but immediately found his irritation diffused by Jalea’s beguiling green eyes and olive complexion.

“That’s quite all right,” he assured her.

She moved away and slipped out the next exit and back onto the platform just before the doors closed and the car sped away. Within moments she was back downstairs on the pedestrian walkway, moving along with the foot traffic at a pace and manner as everyone else.

“How can you be tired of this already?” Vladimir asked.

“This is my fourth meal made of molo in two days,” Nathan argued, “as is yours. Are you telling me you’re not tired of molo yet?”

“Do you want to eat the escape pod meal kits again?”

“Not really; at least not yet.”

“You know what your problem is? You always worry. You worry too much, Nathan.”

“I’m the captain, remember? I’m pretty sure it’s in my job description.”

“My grandfather always said, ‘Worry only about the things you can change, let someone else worry about the things you cannot change.’ He was a very wise man.”

Nathan stared at him, trying to decipher the deeper meaning of the phrase. After a few moments, he decided there was none and continued eating. “So what was it like over there?”

“It is quite impressive. I mean, it is obviously slapped together with bits and pieces from many different places, but they have created quite a facility in the process. Machine shops, fabrication shops, component printers: I believe we can fix nearly everything here.”

“I’ll be happy if we just patch up the hole in the hull,” Nathan admitted.

“This we can definitely do here. We just need some material for the fabricators.”

“What else do they have?” Nathan wondered.

“Living quarters, agricultural rooms for growing food. They even have a small hospital.”

“Does Doctor Chen know about this?”

“Yes, she is going over there tomorrow to see if this facility can be of any use to us.”

“How is Deliza doing with the computers for Abby?”

“They are running simulations to verify that the shuttle’s computers can process our machine code. So far, everything seems to be going fine.”

“That’s good news. Between you and I, the jump drive worries me the most. If that thing breaks down, we’re pretty much screwed.”

“Do not worry, Nathan. My people have been checking all of her circuits and controls. So far, everything looks good.”

“Do you think- I mean, if we manage to get our hands on that zero-point device, do you think we could make it work with our jump drive?”

“It should be possible. The power lines and the emitters will need to be beefed up in order to handle the additional power loads. It would be helpful if we could find a better conductor for power distribution, something with less resistance, perhaps. Yes, that would help a lot, I believe.”

“I sure hope you’re right.”

“See? Again, you worry. Listen, Nathan. I admit that I do not begin to understand how the jump drive works. But from what I have seen, she was not kidding when she said that they overbuilt the system. It is very robust. And believe me, Russians know robust. Everything we build is robust.”

Nathan sat there picking at his food as he watched Vladimir clean his plate and signal for seconds. He only hoped that his friend’s assessment of the jump drive was correct. He had still not quite gotten used to the idea of instantly jumping up to ten light years. Jumping hundreds or even thousands of light years? He didn’t think he’d ever get his mind to wrap around that one.

Jalea knew the moment she entered the tavern that she had chosen the correct establishment. It had all the telltale signs of a front for the Order of Origin. One only had to know what those signs were.

As she entered the poorly lit establishment, she unzipped her jacket and pulled the collar of her shirt open farther to reveal more of her cleavage. She knew from experience that it was an effective way to get men to honor her requests. As she took a seat at the bar, she could tell by the look on the bartender’s face that this man was no exception to the rule.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asked.

“A light ale, cold,” she said. The bartender returned a moment later with a crystal mug of a pale, yellowish liquid with a slight bit of white foam on top.

“Four credits,” he announced, setting her drink on the bar in front of her. She placed a one hundred credit chip on the bar and slid it toward him.

Вы читаете The legend of Corinair
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