“It looks like I may have to exercise my talent for stalling. Tell the Primary Coordinator I want to have a chat. See if you can put me through to our friend the Colonel.”
The most prominent feature in Colonel Jina’s publicity portraits was the smile that adorned his globular, well nourished face. He was sporting an especially cheerful version of his trademark when his image popped onto Sabor’s optic nerves seconds after Purvali initiated the call.
“Good morning, Honored Sabor. It’s a pleasure to hear from you.”
“I understand I’m being pursued by soldiers who are affiliated with your enterprise, colonel.”
“I’ve dispatched eight of my best. They have orders to board your boat and take you prisoner.”
“I’ve examined your rate schedule. I’m prepared to offer you fifty percent more than you’re being paid.”
The colonel frowned. Soulful regret replaced The Smile. “I’m afraid I have to inform you I can’t consider your offer. I appreciate your interest but I never entertain counter offers once I’ve committed my armed staff to an operation. My reputation for dependability is one of my primary business assets.”
“I understand that, colonel. I should advise you, however, that the situation may not be as one sided as it appears. I have some capacity for violence, too.”
Choy was bustling around the passenger shack overturning tables and chairs and lining them up in front of the windows. He and Purvali had wrapped themselves in defensive vests and planted hats with defensive units on their heads. Sabor had slipped into a vest but he had laid his hat on a windowsill.
Purvali pointed at the air in front of her eyes. Sabor nodded and his display split in half. A lean man in a recyclable work suit occupied the left section. A subtitle reminded Sabor he was looking at the Primary Coordinator of Galawar Commune.
“Good morning, Honored Sabor,” the Primary Coordinator said. “My executive officer says you’ve asked for assistance.”
“My principal advised me you would probably resist,” Colonel Jina said. “I took that into account when I assigned a completely equipped squad. You can surrender now or we can take you prisoner five minutes from now.”
Sabor’s attention started multi-tracking the two conversations. His communication implant had automatically initiated a switching program when it bifurcated the display. The implant transmitted a real time image to the appropriate person whenever Sabor spoke and the other person received a temporary simulation. The Primary Coordinator and Colonel Jina were probably using similar programs.
The conversation with the Primary Coordinator was essentially a standard business bargaining session. The Coordinator recognized his obligation to resist anyone who attacked honest merchants as they plied their trade on the lake. He was even willing to let Sabor and his party make a short stop on the commune’s territory once they eliminated their difficulties with Colonel Jina’s representatives. But he also knew an opportunity when he saw one.
“We have several members who feel we should refinance our primary loan, Honored Sabor. You may have heard about the interesting line of crabs the Renwar Institute unveiled two tendays ago. We’re bidding for the exclusive reproduction rights. The numbers indicate we could draft an unbeatable offer if we could decrease the cost of our current debt servicing.”
With Colonel Jina, Sabor concentrated on more lofty matters—and the time-eating speeches that lofty matters tend to generate. “Your principal is endangering the entire financial system of our planet, colonel. Kenzan Khan is one of the most fiscally irresponsible personalities I’ve worked with. If he gets my bank under his control, he’ll drain my resources until he triggers an uncontrollable financial chain reaction. You wouldn’t accept a contract to poison the lake. The collapse of my bank would be just as devastating.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Colonel Jina said. “But it’s my understanding there are three other banks with assets that are as extensive as yours.”
The steamboat had pulled abreast of the starboard windows. The soldiers were still grouped in their parade formation.
“And they’re all interlinked,” Sabor said. “If one of us fails, the others will all be affected. The relationships and interactions in a financial system can be just as complex as the relationships and interactions in an ecological system.”
The six hardbodies on the other boat trained their weapons.
“I appreciate your willingness to help us,” the Coordinator said. “Our rescue force should reach you in about seven minutes.”
A crack slithered across the window directly in front of Sabor. More cracks appeared in the windows on either side. Clouds of particles replaced all three windows. Chilly autumn air flooded the passenger shack.
Sabor had thrown himself flat as soon as he had seen the first crack. He stretched out his right arm and started crawling toward the barricade Choy had assembled in front of the window.
Choy had assembled three guns. He and Purvali were lying on their backs with their weapons raised above the barricade and their eyes fixed on the aiming screen mounted on the rear of each barrel. Sabor picked up the third gun and tapped a symbol on the control screen built into the stock. The screen clicked off a ten second count. A line of boldface announced that the gun had linked with the short-range interface built into his wristband.
“They’re firing at the barricade,” Choy said. “They’ll have it dissolved in about two minutes.”
“What are you aiming at?”
“We’re concentrating on the hardbody on the left of the line. I’m assuming we should try to completely eliminate one gun.”
Sabor had already raised his gun above the barricade. He marked the hardbody on the left with a mental command and the barrel swiveled on its mount. The gun was an elegant piece of smoothly functioning machinery, emitting a well mannered slap…slap…slap as its internal computer calculated the range, checked the position of the barrel, and transmitted a fire command once every four seconds. The anti-personnel loads contained molecular devices that temporarily disrupted the central nervous system. The defensive system built into the soldier’s uniforms deployed defensive molecules that could neutralize the incoming moles. A concentrated attack could overwhelm the defensive moles and remove a hardbody from the firing line for several minutes. The gun wasn’t programmed to compensate for the rocking of the waves but Sabor’s own brain could handle that aspect of the situation.
He rotated the gun to his right, to keep his target on the aiming screen, and realized the other boat was turning.
“They’re turning onto a possible interception course,” Choy said.
“I’ve checked the databanks for information on their jumping capacity,” Purvali said. “There’s nothing explicit but I estimate the hardbodies can probably hop across a two meter separation without making an extraordinary effort.”
“Can you do me a favor?” Sabor said. “Can you find out what kind of cargo this floating palace is carrying? Perhaps we can find something our captain will be willing to part with. And gain a small increment in our forward progress.”
Sabor’s cool, chinup elan was one of his trademarks. His mother had included it in his specifications
