The Token - Kevin Bird (best way to read e books TXT) 📗

we’ll be using up the oxygen before the food or water and we don’t have the range to get to a suitable planet to land on.” He was obviously concerned; but no longer incapacitated by fear.
“How long do you think then?”
Clayton responded gravely and thoughtfully, “I would guess maybe about a day and a half at most, if we take it easy.”
“Well don’t worry, we can’t exactly do gymnastics in this space can we?” Jacob spoke to Sean bringing a smile to the boy’s face. He turned a more serious tone on the spy. “Why don’t you just contact Marshall? You said he was sending a ship out for you.”
“We can try to reach him, but we may have a problem.” While he pressed some keys on the face of the radio he explained the arrangement. “Marshall had made all the plans so that as soon as the Cargo 1 came out of shift he wouldn’t have to be contacted for any reason. He was nervous, rightly so, that as soon as the ship was shown missing a search would begin along it’s supposed line of travel and any communications picked up in that area would be traced. He can’t afford the risk. My concern is that his radio will, quite simply, be turned off.”
Jacob had nothing to say and just sat while the man next to him tuned the radio and each time Clayton’s face seemed to suggest he had the right frequency all that could be heard was static. After a few tense moments Clayton laid the radio down on his lap.
“Marshall gave me three different frequencies to use to reach him but none of them is connecting now. I don’t know the frequency the ship he sent to your world is using and it would be almost impossible to find it randomly.” His face showed he was deflated after seeing their only hope dashed.
Jacob sat a little straighter and Clayton looked over at him. “What?”
The farmer had a small smile on his face and had obviously thought of something. He didn’t speak but sat thinking for a moment. Clayton wasn’t so patient, “What? What is it?”
Hesitantly, for fear of raising hopes too soon, Jacob explained.
“How long do you think it will be before Marshall’s ship will be at my planet and how long would it take them to get here from there?”
“I don’t see how that…..”
“How long, Clayton?” Jacob interrupted him.
“They should be there some time tomorrow and it would take them the best part of a day to get here. Why?”
Jacob ignored the question; “If we reduced environmental power and shunted as much as possible to engines, how far could we travel before we ran out of fuel?”
Clayton gave the puzzle some thought, clearly ignoring his immediate urge to ask more questions. “Well, since we don’t have the engines for shifting in this pod, we’d be able to travel for about two days; about the equivalent of six hours in shift. But by then, especially with reduced enviros, we might not even be alive. Why, what are you thinking of?”
“I think we’ve got a small chance to make it. Not much of a chance admittedly, but it’s the only one I can think of.” Jacob went on to explain to the doubtful spy.


Twenty Six

General Grewer was given a written report by one of his aides who then left the room. He leaned back in his large soft chair to read over it.
“It seems that all shipments have been accounted for and assigned to the departments requiring them.” He spoke aloud even though he was the only one in the room; it was a habit that had stuck with him over many years. He had no urge to change it as hearing his thoughts aloud often focused his mind and offered solutions he might otherwise have missed.
The other Cargo vessels and their escorts had shown up safely and on time then had unloaded. They had sped off for refitting and time for the crews to be exchanged before the next collecting trip began. Grewer’s job was to make sure everything got where it was supposed to be when it was needed.
“Cargo 1 still hasn’t shown up yet! I can’t believe something that large could just disappear by accident so it must have been that Lieutenant,” he looked at the papers for a moment, “Clayton. For some reason he must have orchestrated this and when we find him he’ll pay for it.”
He took a drink from a bottle that had been standing on the floor beside his chair and then continued responding out loud to what he was reading. “I see the transfer of the livestock went smoothly. We’ll be a little short since we apparently lost so many with Cargo 1, but there’s not much we can do about it now. We can’t demand any more Tokens till those farmers have had more time to reproduce their beasts. Oh well, we’ll just have to make do with regular rations when the fresh is gone.”
He continued reading the report and only showed frustration at one further point. “Damn! It looks like we won’t even really know all that was lost from Cargo 1. They were tasked with keeping over-all records of the Tokens collected on this trip.” He hated loose ends. The only thing that gave him some hope of a clean resolution was that the Supplier hierarchy was as angry as he was.
“They’ll be out in force hunting for this ship by now; and if anyone can find it and my Tokens, it’ll be them. With all the ex-pirates, bounty hunters and other questionable characters they hire I wouldn’t want to be the people that stole Cargo 1.”

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“Bring us in, and as soon as we break atmosphere, order all quiet.” Drake was always careful with communications and more so now with the wealth he’d taken from the Collectors.
Cargo 1 and Drake’s vessel had come out of shift into orbit around a small blue and green planet they called home. In the twenty years they had used this planet as their base of operations, they had never had any uninvited guests; and that worked just fine for them. In order to decrease the chances of being discovered Drake had ordered that no communication of any kind would be made from the surface. The only radio and scanning devices were on board his two vessels and now also Cargo 1. Once on the planet all of this equipment was turned off and put under guard till it was in space again on the next mission. Incoming messages were received so they knew what was going on outside their little world but nothing returned. Drake had never had any problems with people following these rules, as everyone understood the intense need for secrecy. Any Supplier or Collector vessel that picked up a signal from a supposedly uninhabited part of the universe would be very quick to send some nosy and well-armed people to check up on it.
“Have Cargo 1 follow us in and land on the plain below the village.”
“Yes, captain,” the communications officer was almost jubilant in his response. All the men were in a fine mood knowing that their long days of successfully fighting Hoppers and stealing from the Collectors were over and that they would be eating well in their own homes tonight.
As the pirate vessel landed softly onto a wide field, a fine mist of dust blew up around it. When the Collector vessel settled further down the gentle slope from the Harpy, the dirt below it blew away in a dark cloud as the massive bulk slowed its descent with downward facing jets. Several people had gathered and were shielding their eyes from the dust and at the same time trying to get a better look at the monstrous chunk of metal in front of them. It would seem that Drake had come through!
As the dust began to settle and the echoes still rang in people’s ears, hatchways opened on both ships and the pirate crews began to file out. The small crowd applauded and cheered as the men showed themselves.
“Hooray for Drake!” “Screw the Collectors!” “Pirates stick it to ya!” The shouts were loud and full of excitement, as everyone knew what this cargo vessel meant to them all. Tons of food on the hoof, weapons, equipment, enough of everything for the pirates themselves and plenty to sell to get anything else they might need.
“Taren, let’s get the blues and greens out of the holds and into the pens before they damage themselves in those cramped quarters. Get them fed and take one for slaughter. Maybe a green. We’ll celebrate later. The rest of the stuff can wait till tomorrow.” Drake was having trouble making himself heard above the shouts but he felt happy at the success they had just experienced. “And Taren, I’m going to my place so don’t have anyone disturb me till the food is ready. Got that?”
His second-in-command nodded his understanding of the order and went to supervise the unloading of the livestock.
Drake walked through the crowd of people shaking their hands and having his back pummeled in appreciation for his success. Once through them he entered into a small house and closed the door behind him. He lay down on a large bed covered in thick furs he had taken himself from the hardy animals the pirates hunted in the cold local mountains. Their meat wasn’t to the pirates liking but their skins were wonderfully soft and warm.
He felt himself sinking into the softness of the bed and his muscles began to relax. He hadn’t realized how much tension the last few days had created for him, but now that he had the opportunity to relax and be worry free, he knew he had been incredibly fortunate on these two huge missions. He and his men had, with few casualties, been able to rid a planet of a dangerous lifeform and then, only days later, to capture a full cargo vessel from the Collectors. He could finally step out of his role as Captain Drake and see his success for what it truly was, a miracle. He congratulated himself by letting himself drift off to sleep.
Outside, his men worked diligently, helped by the other inhabitants of the pirate enclave. They were like a big family, though few of them were related by blood. They worked well together when it meant profit, but squabbled and fought among themselves in most other daily activities. This windfall of a cargo vessel full of weapons and goods brought them together, as there was clearly enough for everyone.
They formed a double line of people through which the off-loaded animals were led towards the waiting pens. One was taken immediately to the kitchens to be slaughtered and prepared for the feast. The rest of the cargo was left on board per Drake’s orders.
Later in the day Drake woke to a knock at his door and Taren came in.
“Captain, the celebration is ready and we’re just waiting for you so we can see how good this Taldarian green is.” He was in a good mood and Drake shared it.
“Alright, Taren, let’s go and stuff ourselves then.” They walked to the center of their small village together where about fifty men and a few women were waiting at long tables. Drake could see two seats empty at the head table and he and Taren took them. Immediately several people came out to the tables with large platters of steaming hot meat. The pirates cheered and quickly became quiet as they stuffed chunks of fresh meat into their mouths. It was