Crashlander

GHOST: TWO

I tried to script the story myself, of course. There was a computer program that would do it as an interview. I made lots of notes … too many notes, because any time I tried to write text for myself, I blocked.

So I advertised for a ghost.

Ander Smittarasheed answered.

His type was familiar enough. He was a gaudy flatlander athlete, too aware of the limps and lames around him, very aware that any woman was his for the asking. It all showed in his words and body language.

Maybe I wouldn't even have hired him, but he just pushed into the situation without giving me a chance to react. Before my caution caught up, I was telling him everything … nearly everything. He turned it into a one-act play between me and the interview program, all in one afternoon. We spent two days polishing before we filmed it. The recording sold instantly to the nets.

He could write. That in itself was amazing.

I said, «I couldn't tell you about the blackmail aspect.» We weren't shouting now. The undersea dome isn't really glass; it's something that absorbs shock waves, including sound, not to mention tsunamis.

Ander Smittarasheed grinned at me patronizingly. «Did you think you were putting something over on General Products!»

«At the time. I still don't know for sure. Maybe I was crazy to think that a spacegoing species wouldn't understand tides.»

«Maybe. But why would they send a human pilot to learn what they already knew?»

«Mmm … Ander, look at it this way. A university team sets out to investigate a cold neutron star. They make a mistake, probably without informing General Products, but they're using a GP hull. The ship comes back with the pilots dead in vividly gory fashion. General Products works out how it happened, but they'd rather not be seen as making excuses. Why not let someone of the same species solve the problem and then talk for them?»

«They seem to have had a good deal of faith in you.»

I laughed as if I hadn't a care in the world. «Oh, Ander. I wonder how many times they tried it.»

He thought it over. «No. They showed Sigmund your contract. They would have had to do that several times.»

«Yeah.»

«Beowulf, Sigmund would not have participated while they killed one pilot after another.»

I said, «Mad Bomber Sigmund? Ander, I never had any intention of stealing that ship.» I saw his look, but I went on. «Now, that could imply that Sigmund is a bad judge of character. Or it could mean that he braced … oh, a dozen pilots, each in turn. The odds of one of us stealing a ship get pretty good. Remember, if each of us does our job, the hull comes back at the end of the orbit. Those things cost.»

Ander's jaw set. He said, «No.»

All right, no. I'd try again later. Beowulf Shaeffer is a misunderstood innocent. Sigmund Ausfaller isn't quite trustworthy. Change the subject — «Or do you mean they trusted me to write my own script? I tried that, Ander.»

«You really needed help. 'First neutron star ever discovered,» he quoted.

First old, cold neutron star. Good thing he'd spotted that embarrassment. I said, «You couldn't dive that close to a pulsar. Even a GP hull couldn't bash through the accretion disk. I've gotten better at explaining things, Ander.»

I was scampering about inside my head, seeking any hole that might offer an escape.

Monitoring a citizen can be easy, or cheap, or foolproof; take your choice. Ausfaller was backing Ander with UN money. The United Nations didn't have authority outside Sol system, but Ander could be using ARM funds or equipment.

But he'd seen me on the balcony for the very first time. He'd sprinted up the slidestairs to intercept me without pausing a moment to call for backup. I'd stake our freedom on that — their freedom. The UN had no claim on me, but they might well extradite Carlos, or Sharrol, or the children.

So I was shaping a bribe to offer Ander, and telling myself that he wasn't too big to be killed if things broke right, and hoping that none of that showed at all while I played for time.

I asked, «What's your concern with puppeteers? They're harmless. They're cowards.»

«Are cowards harmless?»

«And they're gone.»

Ander smiled at me. «And you were the one who sent them. Beowulf, why would they deal with you a second time? You blackmailed them.»

«They don't mind blackmail; they use it themselves. And what I thought I knew might not be true.» I caught that smirk again and snapped, «All right, what?»

«Tides,» Ander said. «We've been watching their, ah, retreat. The Pierson's puppeteers understand tides very well, Beowulf, whether or not they ever had a moon.»

«All right.» I believed him and wasn't surprised.

«By the way, that information is absolutely proprietary —»

«Man with a secret, hah? Even so, I think they were taking a shot at me when they hired me the second time.»