The Icarus operative - 4. Four

Civilian Trading Ship Persephone docked in Nineveh

Planet Nabï Yünus, in the Tau Ceti System

Covenant Year 329

THIRTY ONE DAYS BEFORE THE ARREST

Arthur Ahmose was not amused at having to be on a space port. He seriously disliked being surrounded by so many people in such open spaces. Crowds made him feel uneasy, vulnerable; something his cousin Sasha had never quite understood. But then again, he knew a great deal more than his cousin. He’d travelled, he’d seen different systems, different planets. And Sasha was barely seventeen standards.

This phobia Arthur had to crowds in open spaces got much worse in Nineveh than in any other place he’d been to, because the arid environment of the planet made the landscape seem even wider and more open than what it already appeared to the naked eye, and less hospitable as well, which added up to his discomfort.

He had walked two or three hours now and was feeling both thirsty and tired, but then again, it was not as if he had any choice; they still had to look for a ship that would take them to the Phinara System in the Norma arm, a region of space awfully close to Athruvian territory. And no trade ship with a sane Captain would want to go that deep into the territory of a race that had been so openly hostile to The Covenant.

Arthur had promised uncle Neyev, however, that he’d deliver Sasha safely to Phinari II, and he intended to fulfill his promise. But so far, four passage ships had declined and he was starting to feel annoyed. He was aware of the fact that moving so close to Athruvian space was serious business, not only because of the Athruvians's open hostility towards The Covenant, but also because of the war between Athraa and Ç’HåkJaar. But there was no way Arthur Ahmose would break a promise. No sir, the word of an Ahmose was gold, and never in his 33 standards had he broken a promise; they had to –and would- make it to Phinara II.

The heat in Nabï Yünus was so awfully strong at that time of the day, that his black hair was sweaty and sticky all over his face. Droplets of sweat ran from his thick black eyebrows and down the bridge of his aquiline nose. His upper lip was also dripping down bringing sweat inside his thin and long lips. He definitely needed to freshen up, so he stopped by a stall where beverages were being sold, and approached the drink vendor.

“Good morning, Milord,” the vendor told him bowing, making sure of course his bow had been respectful enough, noticing that Arthur’s blue silk suit must’ve cost a fortune. “I’d like something refreshing, good man,” Arthur Ahmose told the vendor as he smiled and bowed back, “a lemonade, perhaps?”

“A lemonade it is, milord.”

The vendor bowed and smiled. He knew better than to mention the price, the suit the man was wearing was definitely custommade, and silk was definitely a rather precious material on this day and age; a clear indication of the man's wealth; to mention the price would've been a serious offense to the lord.

He picked up something that looked like a blending cup, a cylinder all made of glass with a retrievable cap on top. He threw a couple of huge orange-green lemons -a variety of lemon native to Nabï Yünus- inside the cup, and a very thin colorless powder that looked pretty much like one of those fruit-made sugar substitutes. He then poured water from a leather canteen and then placed the blending cup on top of a metallic round base that automatically blended the ingredients on the cup. The vendor then poured the contents on a disposable cup, placed a slice of the fruit on one of the edges, and an absurd paper-made little umbrella on the other.

“Fresh lemonade for the Lord.” he said, handing the cup to Arthur Ahmose as he smiled.

“How much is it for the cup, dear trader?” Arthur asked taking the cup in his right hand.

“Fifty credits, milord.”

Arthur looked in his pocket and paid the fifty credits for his lemonade. He smiled and bowed to the vendor. Then, he started walking away from the stall, in search for his cousin Sasha. He certainly hoped his young cousin had been luckier on finding a passage ship that would take them as far as Phinara II, for he was more than eager to leave Nineveh, and Nabï Yünus… as soon as possible. The price wouldn’t really matter, uncle Neyev had made sure they had a very wealthy credit account available at every Covenant Union Trade Bank. And he himself had put together a little fortune since he was much younger; it had begun mostly courtesy of his parents' inheritance, and in time he’d managed to make his fortune triple with some risky yet profitable businesses.

His lemonade was almost over when he decided he would go back to the Nabïan Hotel to wait for Sasha. He was tired, and people were starting to crowd around the streets once again.

***************

Merrilyn Stewart loved being on port. It gave her the chance to see people, which she couldn’t do on board Persephone, at least not that many people and not as often. She resented the fact that Captain Bristow would always make her go out with an escort, but then again, she was just twenty-one standard years old and, in Captain Auriel Bristow’s own words, ‘there were some mean people out there, willing to take advantage of a young nice looking lady wandering about port with no company’.

Merrilyn laughed every time she was referred to as a lady, for she had no nobility in her veins; but Auriel Bristow had always insisted in calling her that… all the time.

Nabï Yünus was for sure not one of Merrilyn’s favorite ports, the docks being mostly ships and nothing else to see. It was also a hot and dry planet, with almost no green anywhere. Her favorite port was definitely Akacious I. Back there they did know how to trade. The docks were big, modern and colorful, and they had the biggest and most wonderful market of The Covenant Colonies, all domed and full of traders dressed in the fanciest of clothes; there you could get anything from a hair clip, to a full banquet.

For the moment, though, the plain market at Nabï Yünus, not far away from the docks, would have to do. It was not domed like the one in Akacious I, but more like a flea market; small stalls here and there with shipmates and locals listening to the vendors offering their goods and closing their transactions in a wide variety of languages depending on where they came from. A language she most definitely loved listening to –though she couldn’t make a word of it at all- was Axadenii… the most musical of spoken languages, or so she thought.

Phillip O’Malley had come along ordered by Captain Bristow, and it was an advantage though, because she would need some help with the grocers and supplies. Phillip now counted forty-six standard years and had been four years on board Persephone mostly doing security work. He was a tall and bulky Utopian, muscular through and through. He had short blonde hair cut in military fashion. His face was clean shaven. He had a straight, thin and slightly pointy nose, and his eyes were of a light blue. In Nineveh, though, his skin would go pink almost immediately under the fierce sun.

Phillip was walking two steps behind Merrilyn, a couple of guns in their holsters strapped to both sides of his chest and one more strapped to his hips. Merrilyn thought he was handsome and all, but he was most definitely not her type. Jay Aodhagán, on the other hand…

Phillip, serious and showing an unfriendly facial gesture, kept looking around –always the security man- to foresee and solve any possible problem in advance. The roader of The Persephone, in which Phillip had loaded the three empty supply crates earlier that morning, had been parked outside the market and there they would load whatever they bought in order to resupply the ship, because once they took off, they wouldn’t touch port for probably one month if they were lucky; with Captain Auriel Bristow, you could never tell.

She stopped on her tracks when the flour stall appeared right before her. There must’ve been a dozen different types of flour and mixtures to bake any kind of thing that was bakeable. She knew for a fact that Jay Aodhagán had a very strong weakness for Utopian chocolate cake with Utopian chocolate frosting, and it was a delicacy rather expensive in most systems within The Covenant and out of Utopian space.

If she thought about it, she would not be able to buy anything from the ship’s account… but she did have a little to spare from her own personal fundings. Wouldn’t that be nice? Surprising Jay with his favorite cake on his nameday?

“Ah, feeling like having sugar today, huh?” Phillip said and Merrilyn smiled at him.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Well,” Phillip added, “make sure you don’t take long in here. We have a lot of things to purchase before dawn.”

“I’ll try and be brief.”

“That sounds good. Besides, I don’t think his birthday is that close.” Phillip said.

“Well it’s not, but…” then she went mute, realizing he had tricked her and she had fallen for it.

Phillip laughed and walked a couple steps away from her, pretending to be interested in the merchandise displayed across from the stall where Merrilyn had stopped. Merrilyn went back to admiring all the bakeables and smiled at the not very young woman who stood behind the counter of the stand.

“Hey,” she said to the vendor behind the stand, “do you happen to have some Utopian chocolate bars?”

The woman, dressed in a plain linen tunic, bowed at Merrilyn and smiled an enigmatic vendor’s smile.

“Utopian chocolate, is it?” she walked towards the back of the store and came back holding a little rectangle-shaped can colored in metallic brown paint. Merrilyn’s eyes opened so wide that it seemed they would jump out of their orbits, and she smiled the biggest of her smiles. The prospect of buying such a big amount of chocolate for Jay’s cake was an alluring one. He would fall for her, and that was a fact!

“Well, I just happen to have this rare delicacy in storage, Lady…?”

“Oh! No! No lady, no.” Merrilyn laughed a little taking her right hand to her mouth, “I’m a crewmate from The Persephone, docked a few kilometers from here.”

“Ah!” the vendor said bowing again, “A travelled shipmate. Then you must truly appreciate a product of such rarity as this one, and in such a large quantity as half a kilogram. Most chocolate we sell is local and not real cocoa, as someone as travelled as you should know.”

“I know what you’re talking about!” she held the box in her hands looking at the labels and now definitely decided to buy the box of chocolate.

“Who do I have the honor of addressing, then?” the vendor asked.

“Merrilyn Stewart.” she said bowing to the stand vendor as she extended her card, a metallic pink embossed card which stated her name on top, and the message Chef underneath.

“Ah! Well, Merrilyn Stewart, Chef of The Persephone, I believe you would appreciate the commodity of the product for sale.” the woman said placing Merrilyn’s card inside her purse.

“I do, believe me.” Merrilyn replied.

“And it would only be the fair amount of one thousand Covenant credits.” the vendor said.

Merrilyn’s eyes opened wider this time; certainly one thousand credits was a lot of money to spend in something as frivolous as chocolate. But then again… wouldn’t it work for her advantage when Jay had his cake and loved her for it?

“One thousand…” she murmured, leaving the phrase unfinished.

The vendor noticed Merrilyn’s disappointment at the price and sort of smiled at her.

“You must agree that the price is not high in comparison to both the quantity and the oddity of the product.”

“I do agree…” she said to the vendor with disappointment drawn all over her face, “but I just can’t afford it. Thanks for your time anyway, dear trader, I’m sorry I made you waste your time.”

The vendor bowed slightly and then looked at Merrilyn again, amused at the young woman’s suffering on behalf of her chocolate, her fingers tightened around the box as if she didn’t want to let go of such a treasure.

“Enlighten me, if you will, Merrilyn Stewart, Chef of the Persephone…”

“Yes, dear trader…”

“Is this ship of yours, The Persephone, currently recruiting crew members?”

“Well, not as such, no…” she answered, puzzled at the vendor’s question, “Why is it that you inquire about hires on my ship, trader, may I ask?”

“I happen to have a son, you see, that is not fond of market trading… and I thought being hired on a ship, he might find his way in the Galaxy… and contribute to the family economy.”

“I see…” Merrilyn said, nodding.

“Semyon!” the woman shouted to the back of the store, “come over here!”

Not one minute had passed when the woman’s son came out. He was young, that much she noticed, probably seventeen standards, definitely not older than eighteen. He had short dark blond wavy hair and gray-green dreamy eyes. His nose was thin but blunt and he had small lips in a tone of pink that Merrilyn would have thought impossible to have come naturally, especially in a male. The young man looked at Merrilyn Stewart and bowed.

“Malady.” he said.

Merrilyn smiled a bit at being called a lady again and bowed back at the boy.

“Merrilyn would do,” she told him, “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.”

“This is my son, Semyon Zalicker,” the vendor spoke again to properly introduce her son. Then she bowed to him and gestured with her hand for him to go away. She looked back at Merrilyn and smiled. “I would be more than willing to negotiate the price of that product you want so much if my son, Semyon, were to be offered a position in your Persephone ship… a trading ship, I gather?”

“A trading ship it is.” Merrilyn responded, “As for hiring, I’ll need to talk to the Captain, though.”

“I thought you might.” She extended her card in return for having gotten Merrilyn’s and smiled again, “This is my business card, Merrilyn Stewart.”

“It is only my pleasure, trader.” Merrilyn said and read the letters embossed in the purple metallic card: Dunya Budliavski.

She nodded, acknowledging the name outloud for her interlocutor’s benefit. Then she placed the vendor’s card in her right pocket, the thing to be done when receiving a business card from a trader, according to commercial protocol.

“I hope to hear from you very soon, Merrilyn Stewart, Chef of the Persephone,” the vendor bowed again and smiled holding the can of chocolate, “I will keep this in storage 'til our next conversation.”

Merrilyn bowed back, smiled at the vendor and resumed her walking around the market. She still had some supplies to buy to refit the ship. Her mind kept going in circles around the can of chocolate, but she was sure she could persuade Captain Bristow to accept the son of the trader on board Persephone. After all, an extra pair of hands would always be welcome, and if he was young that might mean more strenght and less salary… Plus, she was sure Nikk might well appreciate that extra pair of hands.

***************

Sasha Ahmose stood still in the middle of the space docks in Port 3. He had seen three ships already and none of them had cared to transport a couple of Utopian men to the Phinari system. He was not going to lose his spirits, though. He still had a full day ahead, and there were a lot of ships coming and going in Nineveh; that was the reason they had come to this Planet in the first place, for aunt Irina had told them that Nineveh had the best of ships and the boldest of crews docking all the time throughout the year.

A couple of very young Nabïan females, both dressed in regular summer flowered dresses, passed by and eyed him, one of them even went all the way as to blinking at him as she laughed with her friend. It was no surprise, Sasha Ahmose was a very good looking young man, with dark straight hair falling naturally over his thin white face. He had thin dark eyebrows and small hazel eyes slightly slanted. His nose was straight and slightly thin and he had a small mouth with a lovely set of pink lips, the lower one thicker than the upper. Sasha smiled back at the girls, bowed and carried on; the last thing he needed now was to get himself distracted by the local girls, no matter how beautiful they might be. He couldn’t forget he had a destiny to fulfill.

And then he saw it.

There, in the middle of the docking space, as a queen among commoners, lay the most impressive ship he’d seen so far. It was silver color all over. Its main body was mainly trilobite-like in shape. The front of the ship had a three section windshield, each section for one different deck. Its lower section was round, like the underbelly of a whale; Sasha imagined that such space had definitely to be used as a cargo holder. On the sides of the trilobite structure, two straight structures held the warp nacelles, in copper-color, and the main thrusters. The nacelles were silver in color and had a copper-color ring up-front. The aft section of the structure was a trilobite tail, more likely just a design feature. Three legs held the body to the ground, one right under the cockpit, the other two one at each side under the warp nacelle support structure. A simple sign on its aft read: Persephone.

He realized his mouth had remained open while he admired the ship and so he closed it. He walked a little, turning around to see the Persephone on every single angle. On the underbelly of the Persephone and facing port, there was an access door with a ramp descending to ground level, and there was a woman sitting on a pliable metal chair under the warp nacelle structure.

“Good afternoon, Madam.” he said and bowed to the athletic dark-skinned woman.

“Good afternoon indeed.” she replied, eyeing the young man from top to bottom.

He was tall, probably five centimeters shorter than she was. And he was very well dressed, as nobles usually did; if she’d had to guess, she would’ve said Russian in origin, or with a Russian lineage.

“How may I be of assistance to such a handsome Lord?” the attractive slender woman asked him bowing mildly.

Sasha thought her bow had been more mockery than respect. He didn’t care to argue though, for he and his cousin did need a ship. And it had made him uncomfortable that she’d called him handsome, comment at which he’d blushed instantly and lowered his head to prevent the woman from seeing his really white skin becoming red under her comment.

“I’m Sasha Ahmose,” he said by way of an introduction bowing to the woman, “from the Serbian branch of the Ahmoses, the Utopian Ahmose lineage.”

She had no clue who in hell the Serbian Ahmoses were and she couldn’t have cared less, but the lad did look like he might have the money to pay handsomely for passage. Her favorite kind of client if one were to ask.

“Nice meeting you, Sasha Ahmose.” she smiled at the young man and extended her hand in greeting, “I’m Hadzaana Missdon. No nobility or famous lineage here… so far as I know.”

Sasha Ahmose smiled and decided he liked her well enough. He extended his card and Hadzaana took it in her hands, paying close attention to the embossing, definitely a very expensive handmade craftsmanship; Utopian through and through.

“So,” she told her interlocutor placing a hand on Persephone’s metall hull, “I noticed how you were eyeing this lovely lady here. I gather you might be looking for passage, Sasha Ahmose of the Serbian branch of the Ahmoses from Utopia?”

“I am indeed… Madam… seeking for passage, that is… for two, that is…. my cousin and I… we’re both looking for passage.”

Hadzaana held her breath so as not to laugh at Sasha’s stutter as he talked to her. She did know she provoked that kind of reaction in some men, youngsters specially.

“Persephone here is mostly a cargo ship,” she said, “but we do take passage every now and then… so long as the passengers can afford it.”

“So, you have accommodations?”

“We might as well, but I would have to talk it over with the Captain.” she crossed her arms over her breasts and leaned on one of her legs, “Where is it that you and this cousin of yours are headed?”

Sasha hesitated before speaking. But then again, he did need to get both him and his cousin safely into the Norma Arm. He cleared his throat and looked at the woman in the eye.

“We’re headed to Phinara II in the Norma Arm.” he said, cleared his throat and continued, “And we can pay handsomely for passage.”

Hadzaana Missdon arched one of her non-existent eyebrows, and looked at the young Sasha Ahmose in his lovely richly custommade red silk suit.

“How many ships have already said no, if I may ask, Sasha Ahmose?” she asked plainly.

Sasha hesitated again, but felt no need to lie about it. The woman staring at him seemed travelled enough and experienced anyway. Lying wouldn’t serve him any purpose.

“Three.”

Hadzaana Missdon would have thought so. She smiled back and invited Sasha inside the Persephone. It would be better if he talked to the Captain himself, for it was not regular passage he was looking for. She pointed to the ramp and Sasha started towards it followed closely by the woman. If these cousins were indeed attempting to reach the Phinari System, Sasha had better talk to the Captain and explain the reasons of their trip. Hadz looked around before entering the ship and closed the hatch in case the little lord was being followed; when it came to nobles, one could never be too careful.