The Dark Between The Stars

TWELVE
LEE ISWANDER

After making his case to the Roamer clans, Iswander headed back to Sheol, anxious to return to business. Though he could have spent days in meetings at Newstation, chatting with clan heads and Confederation trade representatives, he had obligations at his lava-processing operations.

The flight back seemed long. After the first few hours of making notes and putting his thoughts in order, he was ready to be back in his office. Once he was elected Speaker, he would have to rely on Alec Pannebaker and Elisa Reeves for the day-to-day work. Though he liked to show good leadership by being there and being involved, some things would have to change. That was the price one paid to move forward.

From space, the hot binary planet looked dramatic, two halves playing tug-of-war. He deployed the cruiser’s heat shield, descended toward the magma operations, and radioed ahead to let Pannebaker know he was coming. “Prepare a production summary for me, please.”

“Got it already, Chief. I do my homework before I have fun. And by the Guiding Star, there’s lots of fun now—thermal instabilities, more than usual. Three lava geysers. One shoots half a kilometer into the atmosphere.”

Iswander remembered the warnings of Garrison Reeves. “Does it pose any danger to our facilities?”

“It’s five kilometers away from the towers, but worth the trip to go see. I’ll take you out there if you like.”

“I’m sure you’ve taken hundreds of images, Mr. Pannebaker.”

“Thousands, actually. Got to get just the right frame. We’ll show them off to Captain Kett when she gets here.”

The head of the Confederation’s largest trading fleet, Rlinda Kett was due at Sheol to take a large cargo of metal products to Newstation. It was a symbolic gesture to impress the clan heads, and the hearty businesswoman knew that full well, but she had agreed to do it, so long as he gave her sufficient inducement.

“A bribe?” Iswander had asked her in a preliminary meeting. He was familiar with the way business and politics worked, but he didn’t think Rlinda Kett would be so blatant about it.

“Not at all,” she had answered. “Shipping terms—I want a ten percent reduction in my costs on all exports from Sheol.”

Iswander knew a negotiation when he saw one. “Pure ingots only.”

“No—ingots, processed-metal foams, alloy films. Ten percent reduction across the board.”

“Ten percent on ingots, five percent on other specialty materials.”

Rlinda had let out a loud laugh. “Good enough—and we’re done here.” She broke out a bottle of her specialty aqua vitae to celebrate. “This is distilled by my associate Del Kellum on an Ildiran planet called Kuivahr. A new product, lots of interest in it.”

He had sipped the murky liquid in the glass, controlled his expression, and tried to be polite. “Tastes… rough. A little like seaweed, but with a burn.”

“He’s still fine-tuning the recipe, enhancing the health benefits. But the sea was the source of all life, and he’s thinking about calling this Primordial Ooze.”

“Doesn’t sound very marketable.”

Rlinda, a big, dark-skinned woman who had only grown bigger over the years, had been the Confederation’s first trade minister, which gave her numerous connections. Previously, she’d run a small shipping company, and now she ran a large one. She owned three upscale restaurants, traded in exotic food items, and ate enough of them herself to make a dent in her profits. Everyone liked Rlinda, and Iswander was sure he could do business with her.

“I’ll have Robb and Tasia handle the details and draw up the paperwork,” she said. “You know I’m just a figurehead these days.”

“Hardly,” he said. Robb Brindle and Tasia Tamblyn could manage the business, but Rlinda would never be a mere figurehead of Kett Shipping.

After a handshake, they had set up a date for her Voracious Curiosity to fly to Sheol to pick up a large shipment of materials to show off to the Roamer clans. For the upcoming election, the timing was important, though it had to look casual…

Now, Iswander descended using assisted piloting, as thermal disturbances shook his cruiser from side to side. The cracks below were like arterial wounds that bled molten metals and incinerated rock. His extraction facilities rode the hot seas, plated with ultra-heat-resistant materials so they could scoop up fresh material. Alloy processors and fabrication chambers in Tower Two created exotic metal foams and films, useful mixtures with polymers and ceramics.

He steered clear of the lava plumes that had so excited Pannebaker and aimed for the cluster of extraction structures, the three towers, and the anchored landing platform. His cruiser settled into place, and he waited while a heat tunnel extended so he could transfer into the shielded admin tower.

Pannebaker met him in the office on the high deck of Tower One, grinning as he handed Iswander a report, anxious to be rid of it. He was a competent engineer with management abilities, but no great fondness for administrative work—in other words, the best kind of deputy.

Pannebaker had silvery hair and intense eyes, as well as a mustache that framed his mouth all the way down to his chin. Every day in the Sheol lava mines excited him like an adrenaline rush, and his extreme competence sometimes led him to take unwarranted risks for the sheer fun of it.

“The shipment of ingots is ready for Captain Kett, sir—our purest, most expensive stuff,” Pannebaker said. “I also included some exotic materials that’ll really impress the Roamers.”

“I already impressed the Roamers with my speech at Newstation. Speaker Seward set the bar low by accomplishing, uh… nothing. And Sam Ricks certainly doesn’t have impressive credentials.”

Not being a Roamer himself, Pannebaker was not interested in clan politics. “Whatever you say, Chief. But you’ll want to look at those revised geological reports. Your consultants made a few optimistic assumptions that might not be valid. Heat plumes are rising up—which is great because it adds purer material to the mix, but temperatures are outside the norms. With the construction materials we used, we’re awfully close to tolerances. Could be something to worry about if it gets hotter.”

Iswander wondered if Garrison Reeves had legitimate concerns after all—which reminded him, “Any word yet from Elisa?”

“None, Chief. Isn’t she taking personal time?”

“Yes, but I thought she’d be back by now.” Iswander was worried about her. Elisa would never take so many days away from work unless the situation was serious. Although her husband was an adequate worker, Iswander had plenty of adequate workers. But he could not replace Elisa Reeves. He hoped her family problems didn’t interfere with her job performance.

Fortunately, his own wife never posed any problems, never interfered, never demanded too much. He had made the terms clear when he arranged the marriage: he needed a woman who was willing to operate within those parameters.

Now that he was back on Sheol, Iswander considered going to the residence deck to see his family, greet his son (who revered his father), give Londa a peck on the cheek, answer her few rote questions… but he could do that later. Right now, he wanted to settle into his office—which, truth be told, felt more like home than the residence deck did anyway.

When Iswander reviewed the geological reports from Pannebaker, he began to frown. The tidal stresses were higher than any previously recorded in eighteen years of study. His consultants had made no mention of that, perhaps because they knew he didn’t want them to find any problems. Had they missed something?

Garrison claimed to have uncovered second-and third-order oscillations in the orbiting planetary fragments, which would begin a cycle that brought the two halves even closer, a minuscule difference in an astronomical sense, but enough to increase the tidal heating. Magma flowed upward at a higher temperature, heat plumes intensified, quakes struck more frequently—all of which had implications for the stability of his processing structures.

Although Lee Iswander didn’t waste money on unnecessary protective measures, he did have a healthy respect for the inherent hazards here. The Sheol facility was dangerous by its very nature, but he had made sure it was designed with enough heat shielding to offer adequate—though not overboard foolish—protection. He had taken reasonable measures. Nevertheless, he would have to look into this in greater depth—discreetly, so as not to cause a panic. Garrison had already caused some uneasiness among the workers, and these fluctuations would only make the anxiety worse.

Pannebaker cheerfully interrupted him over the comm. “The Voracious Curiosity is here a day early, Chief. Captain Kett says she wanted to catch you sleeping.”

“I rarely sleep,” Iswander said. “Good thing our shipment is ready.”

“And best of all—a fourth lava geyser just erupted! Our sensors picked up the heat spike, and it’s jetting high, definitely visible from the landing platform.”

“Why is that good news?”

“Because it’s spectacular. Captain Kett will see it as she comes in. She loves a good show. She’s brought Tasia Tamblyn and Robb Brindle along to handle the business details.”

Iswander nodded to himself. Considering the erupting geysers, maybe it was a good thing the Curiosity had arrived a day early. With luck, her ship could fly off to Newstation with its cargo before anything dangerous or embarrassing happened here.