The Stones of Silence_Cochrane's Company_Book One Read online

  The older man turned to the others in his group. “Very well. You all know what to do. Keep me informed.”

  “Yes, Mr. Marwick.” “Yes, sir.” “I will, sir.” A chorus of muttered responses came from them as they turned and left the room.

  “Join us, Captain.” Marwick gestured to the door of his office. “Marti, coffee for three.” He didn’t ask whether Cochrane wanted any, or something else, but that was no surprise to the visitor.

  He followed both directors into Marwick’s inner sanctum. It was luxuriously carpeted and furnished, with a large, ornate desk made of what looked like real wood, beautifully grained, lustrously gleaming. The desk alone would be worth enough to buy a decent-sized house. Four original oil paintings of Earth’s Orkney Islands hung on the walls. A quick mental estimate suggested that the combined value of everything in this room would be sufficient to put down a deposit on a brand-new interstellar freighter. The place positively reeked of money. Cochrane smiled to himself. That’s good, he thought, because I intend a lot of it to come my way, if this works out.

  A robotic serving cart rolled through the door behind them, clearly summoned by the secretary. It served coffee at the round conference table in the corner, then whisked out again as they sat down.

  As soon as the door had closed, Marwick began. “Your report was very comprehensive, Captain, but your conclusions and recommendations raised more than a few eyebrows.”

  “I’m sure they did,” Cochrane replied with a slight smile, trying to project an aura of self-assuredness. These people would have little respect for him in terms of their social structure. He had to jolt them into realizing that he was, in fact, essential to them. His report had been the first step.

  “Mine were among them,” Marissa Stone added. “You do realize you’re talking about a response that, if a planet did it, would amount to an act of war?”

  “Yes, Ms. Stone. Since you’ve already been the victims of such an act, you have two options. One is to roll over and accept it, thereby guaranteeing that more will follow. The other is to administer a short, sharp lesson, to demonstrate to those behind it that they went too far. You need to draw a line. If they cross it again, they must be made to understand they’ll have to pay a price for it – one they may not be able to afford.”

  “Yes, but we’ve only paid a price in monetary terms. You’re talking about making them pay in blood, if necessary.” Her voice was sharp, almost querulous.

  “Blood and money, Ms. Stone. Both are the realities of this sort of situation. I presume you’ve never had to deal with that before?”

  She shook her head. “I went to Neue Helvetica for my graduate studies, then came home to work my way up through the ranks of the New Hebrides Corporation. I’ve traveled to more than a dozen planets, but only on business.”

  “In that time, how many competitors did you ‘defeat’ in business terms, costing them money or even driving them out of business?”

  “I suppose it must have been scores of them, although only a few closed their doors. We’ve taken over several competitors.” She preened slightly. “It was one of those ‘defeats’, as you call it – I suppose a ‘victory’ from my perspective – that led to my being appointed a Director of the New Orkney Enterprise.”

  “Then I don’t need to tell you what ‘cut-throat competition’ means, Ms. Stone. However, in the non-corporate world, ‘cut-throat’ can be literal as well as figurative. That’s what whoever stole your satellites is trying to do to you. They want to make it too expensive for you to continue surveying the Mycenae system. They know you can’t commit unlimited resources without the guarantee of a return on your investment. You won’t have that unless and until the United Planets recognizes Rousay’s claim to colonize the system. If they stop you surveying until then, assuming it happens –”

  “It’ll happen,” Marwick grunted. “It may take a couple of years, thanks to interference from competitors who are mounting fake counter-claims, but it’ll happen. Count on it.”

  Cochrane knew Marwick’s assurance must mean that a lot of money was changing hands under the table, to make sure things went according to plan. He nodded. “Very well, sir. When that happens, you’ll still have to complete all the surveying you were trying to do ahead of time. The cumulative delay means it’ll take you three to five years from now to even begin earning a return on your investment. Given the size of that investment, and your need to sell debentures to finance it, you’re going to be out of pocket by anywhere from ten to twenty billion Neue Helvetica francs by the time you see any income at all from Mycenae. By the way, if I may ask, why did you denominate this project in francs, instead of Rousay kronor?”

  The woman shrugged. “It’s as you said. We’ll need to raise hundreds of billions through debentures over the life of the project. Investors understand Neue Helvetica francs. It’s one of the three currencies most frequently used in interstellar trade, along with Bismarck Cluster marks and Lancastrian Commonwealth credits. The kronor’s a minor currency compared to them.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to raise that much, ma’am?”

  “We expect to spend up to a trillion francs to fully develop this project over the next two decades or so. On the other hand, we expect to take out of Mycenae anywhere between ten and twenty trillion francs over the same period. With that sort of return, yes, we believe we’ll attract more than enough investors.”

  “But you’ll have to produce good initial returns, to persuade them to invest more.”

  “Precisely.”

  “And you won’t earn those returns for several years, if your surveying is long delayed.”

  “You have it in a nutshell, Captain,” Marwick acknowledged. “We have to deal with these intruders, whoever they are, before we do anything else. We were reluctant to commit a large sum of money to security at this stage, but your report has convinced us that we have to do something, or risk losing everything.”

  Cochrane paused for a moment, searching for the right words. These people had to be impressed with how serious the threat really was. At last he said, “Mr. Marwick, I don’t think you’ve fully understood the implications of my report. Your security risks are only just beginning. Even if you deal with your immediate problem, sums like those you’ve just mentioned so casually are going to have every low-life, smuggler, pirate and criminal in the galaxy frothing at the mouth. You’ve got to be willing to be hard, tough and ruthless, right from the start. The instant such people think they might be able to get away with something, they’ll be after you with foot, horse and artillery, to use an ancient military expression from Earth. Just one successful raid, on just one of your precious metal shipments, will set up a pirate ship’s crew for life. If just one smuggler manages to skim off even one-tenth of one percent of your mineral shipments, he’ll be able to retire in luxury after just a few years. He’ll inspire dozens, maybe even hundreds, of others to follow his example. You can’t just deal with the present problem, then sit back and relax. You’ve got to push security hard, from now until the end of the project. If you don’t, then, as you said, you’re going to lose it all.”

  Marissa shook her head. “I don’t see how we can possibly set up a system-wide security force for Mycenae at this stage. We won’t earn enough revenues to pay for that for some years yet.”

  “Not necessarily at once, ma’am; but your business opponents, and half the low-lifes in the galaxy, are already planning to take Mycenae away from you. If you aren’t already working to stop them, they’re going to succeed. You’ll be late to the game, and you’ll never catch up.”

  She glanced at Marwick. “Alasdair?”

  The senior director nodded heavily. “I fear he’s right. So, Captain, what do we need to do right now, and what will it cost us?” His tone had changed now. It was no longer one of the elite of Rousay talking to a flunky far his junior. It was now a businessman talking to a subordinate who had an important contribution to make; still somewhat superior, but also att
entive.

  “You’re the experts in how to run an interplanetary business, Mr. Marwick. I won’t try to tell you how to do that. My expertise is in space warfare, securing a star system against intrusion, and dealing with pirates and smugglers.”

  Marissa nodded. “You made an enviable name for yourself for all three things in the Benbecula system. In fact, I understand that it was your efficiency, plus your refusal to allow a senior Government minister to get away with his crimes, that led to the end of your military career there.”

  Cochrane inclined his head. His voice was cold as ice. “I should point out that I had a personal stake in the matter. One of the Minister’s minions seduced my wife, leading to her divorcing me. In the process, I uncovered what the Minister was up to – massive graft, smuggling, interference in shipping markets, the lot. He and several of his people are now serving extended sentences at a prison mining project in the Uist system.”

  His audience winced visibly. Cochrane had done the socially unforgivable. He had ensured that their sort, descendants of the New Orkney Cluster’s Founding Families, were now no better than slave laborers in an asteroid mining project, without benefit of most of the safety precautions and systems that were common in commercial ventures. It was dangerous work, often fatally so.

  “Unfortunately,” Cochrane continued, “a number of other Ministers felt… uncomfortable… that a senior officer had refused to recognize what they regarded as the perks and privileges of their station in life. That led to pressure on my superiors to get rid of me. I saved them the trouble by resigning my commission.”

  Marwick stirred uncomfortably. “Yes… well…” He cleared his throat. “You’ve done well since then, as a free-lance consultant in the New Orkney Cluster on space security issues. That’s how you came to our attention, when you broke up that interplanetary smuggling gang in Cubbie. That was good work.”

  By which you mean, I stopped criminals robbing people like you of their rightful rake-off, Cochrane thought with cynical amusement; but he was careful to keep his voice unemotional and impassive. “Thank you. It was also bloody work, I’m afraid. They were making a lot of money, smuggling drugs in and transuranics out. They didn’t give up without a fight.”

  “You hired your own security team to deal with them, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. The local authorities didn’t want to disrupt their relationship with asteroid mining and orbital worker trades unions, which would have happened had their own security forces done the job. By bringing in an outside team to take down all the suspects at once, then get out under an apparent cloud of official disfavor, we were able to end the problem, while persuading the unions that the politicians had really been on their side all along.” He mentally added, Got to keep the plebs in their place, you know. Carrot and stick, and all that sort of thing.

  “That’s what we heard,” Marissa commented. “Their Prime Minister speaks very highly of you, in private, of course.”

  Cochrane hid a smile. The fact that he’d uncovered the Prime Minister’s family’s involvement in the problem, and agreed to cover it up again in exchange for a very handsome off-the-record, tax-free cash bonus on his project fee, was neither here nor there. A man had to be realistic, after all – but these two didn’t need to know that.

  “There are several things you need to do right now,” he began. “Most of them are outside my purview, such as internal security, personnel screening, and so on. They need immediate attention, too, but not from me. What I can offer you is space security, in planetary orbit, in the asteroid belt, and, in due course, conveying high-value output from Mycenae to its destination. Those are my specialties. Ultimately, you’ll need to establish your own system defense force to protect Mycenae from intrusion. It’ll have to be a big one, because Mycenae’s a binary star system with over twenty planets and two asteroid belts. There are plenty of places for criminals to hide, and to establish bases from which they can mount their operations. You’ll need a dozen heavy patrol craft to do that, or eight corvettes, plus a full supporting infrastructure.”

  “But forces like that cost tens of billions to establish and operate,” Marwick objected. “We can’t afford that until Mycenae is generating enough profit to support it.”

  “Then you need a cheaper alternative; a private security service, funded with seed money but largely supporting itself at the expense of your enemies, until your project is earning enough to justify a more conventional solution.”

  The silence around the table was palpable. At last Marissa said slowly, “You’re talking about funding security for Mycenae out of what you capture from those raiding us, aren’t you?”

  “That, and their other assets, yes, Ms. Stone. Those assets may not be in the Mycenae system at all, but I’m sure they’ll be… accessible… to someone willing to do what it takes to go after them.”

  “But isn’t that committing a crime, to prevent a crime being committed? Stealing from others, to stop them stealing from us?”

  “What laws apply in Mycenae, ma’am? Who would define it as a crime there? The system has no government, no laws, and no courts.”

  “What about disposing of what you take?” Marwick asked. “Selling stolen property is a crime everywhere.”

  “Yes, sir, but who defines ‘stolen’? If it comes from an uninhabited system that’s not yet under anyone’s jurisdiction, and thus has no legal system, is taking such property technically ‘theft’ at all? If we need to deal with criminals on their own planets, that may involve acts that would be classified as crimes there, but Rousay need take no official notice. Its writ doesn’t run outside this system. None of the laws governing the New Orkney Enterprise would have been broken.

  “That leads me to another very important point, sir. You, as Directors, are legally responsible – and liable – for every decision the New Orkney Enterprise takes, and everything it does. You need to be able to plausibly deny any knowledge of any illegal activity of any nature whatsoever. If it ever comes to a trial, you’ll be deposed under a truth-tester, by court order if necessary. Right from the start, you need to insulate yourselves from whatever needs to be done to establish and maintain security in the Mycenae system. You don’t need – you don’t want – to know whether it’s legal or illegal. That goes double for the period before Rousay is awarded colony rights there by the United Planets. Given that separation, you can’t be found guilty of anything that may happen there.”

  There was a long silence. Both Directors were clearly thinking hard, and Marissa Stone was looking at him in a way that Cochrane recognized. Clearly, his hard-boiled approach and reputation as a killer were attracting more than just her business interest.

  At last she said, “If the Board hires you to take care of our initial security needs in the Mycenae system, it’ll have to issue clear and specific policy directives as to what’s expected of you.”

  “Yes, Ms. Stone, but they’ll have to be very carefully worded. You’ll set out your requirements, of course, but in such a way that you tell me what to do – not how to do it. That’s the critical thing. You can include verbiage about ‘using all legal and legitimate means’, or words to that effect, to cover yourselves: but the laws governing that are those of Rousay. They won’t apply in Mycenae unless and until this planet is awarded colonial power status there. Even after that, until someone is appointed with the authority to enforce Rousay’s laws in that system, they’ll be moot.”

  “Which will give you several years to take care of business in your own fashion,” Marwick observed dryly.

  “Yes, sir. What’s more, you’ll need to authorize me to fund our operations from, shall we say, the ‘exploitation of resources recovered’ in the Mycenae system. That’s sufficiently vague and non-committal that you can deny anything incriminating, but it still gives me a semblance of legal cover.”

  “Very well. So far, this has all been theoretical. I accept that we’ll eventually need to fund a proper system defense force, plus its operating ex
penses, but the longer we can avoid that, the better. What do we need to spend right now? Give me a number.”

  Cochrane paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “You’ve just lost three hundred and thirty million francs worth of satellites, right, sir?”

  “Yes. That’s what their replacements are going to cost us, at any rate.”

  “If you enter into a security contract with me, sir, please don’t finalize the order until I’ve told you what additional features I’ll need built into them. I’ll also need to make several expensive purchases up front, including weapons systems, for which I’ll need end user certificates. Are you familiar with them?”

  “No. I’ve never been involved in arms purchases.”

  “It’s a diplomatic document, provided by the purchasing planet to the planet of manufacture. It certifies that the weapons will be used on or by that planet, and not by anyone else. There are some planets that will sell military hardware to anyone for cash, and not ask awkward questions about possibly forged documentation, but they don’t necessarily make everything I’ll need. If you can arrange for Rousay to provide a couple of dozen blank end user certificates, that’ll make things much simpler. They’ll state that my security company is licensed to operate armed vessels; therefore, Rousay certifies any weapons it purchases – leave the details and the supplier blank – will be used for approved purposes under the supervision of its government.” He smiled wryly. “That supervision had better be theoretical rather than practical, for our purposes, of course, sir.”

  “Of course. I daresay we can arrange that.”

  “Good. That being the case, here’s what I’ll need.”

  Beneath the table, Cochrane crossed the fingers of his left hand. This was make-or-break time. If he succeeded in persuading these hard-nosed business people, he had a real chance to forge a future he’d long been pondering for himself and his closest colleagues. If not…

  “I’ll set up a shell company to provide a commercial cover for this operation. I’ll need two hundred and fifty million francs up front, in cash, in its bank account on Neue Helvetica,” he began. He ignored the hiss of indrawn breath from his listeners as he went on, “That’s to prevent anything being traced back to you, in the event of the wrong sort of questions being asked. You can describe it on your books as an ‘investment’, rather than security expenses, to be secured by a lien against any assets the company buys for use in its duties. If the shell company repays the money – plus, say, ten percent interest per calendar year or part thereof – the lien on its assets is terminated, they are indemnified from any claim by NOE, and its relationship with NOE becomes merely that of a security contractor. That gives you an easy way out if something goes wrong. I can always borrow the buyout money from you, if necessary. It’s not as if you won’t be getting it straight back!” The two directors laughed.