Pay Me, Bug!

Chapter 29

WHEREIN Our Hero Enjoys the Company of Proper Society

When the Centurion's boarding party arrived through the nadir lock, Captain Jobin Tax and the rest of the crew of the Alo Minh were waiting for them in Bay One.

Captain Tax, a calm man of considerable discipline, sternly instructed his crew to cooperate with the marines in every way. He spoke with an air of both authority and unconcern, absolutely convinced that his instructions would be followed to the letter. After a brief exchange with the Lieutenant in charge of the search, he suited up, descended the nadir lock, and entered the transport ship that would take him to the RTS Centurion.

He asked and was given permission to stand on the bridge of the transport so he could watch the approach to the Centurion. He was, to the satisfaction of the pilot and his escorts, suitably impressed, and asked many questions about what it was like to serve aboard a ship that size. By the time the transport ship had passed through the Maxwell into the landing bay, everyone on board decided they liked him. Any initial suspicions they may have had were dispelled by his open admiration for the battlecarrier.

Grif planned this part out carefully: he wanted Tax to marvel at the Centurion while at the same time be completely unconcerned by it. Jobin Tax had nothing to hide; he was there legitimately. As far as he was concerned, the Commodore was doing him a favor by speeding up his timetable, and would result in him reaching the planet's surface ahead of schedule. Whatever plans Mavis may have in store for Tax on the Centurion, Tax saw only an opportunity to make an ally… and he fully intended to enjoy the experience.

Tax displayed none of the stress Grif felt. The nervous, ragged hysteria Grif had nearly succumbed to earlier was now channeled into the task at hand: the more agitated Grif felt, the calmer and more relaxed Jobin Tax looked. In Tax's mind, everything was going well. Grif didn't bother dwelling on the state of his own mind. Introspection was a sure-fire way to wreck a con.

As he descended from the transport onto the flight deck, he was greeted by Commodore Hu Mavis himself. Grif made a point of having Jobin Tax bow--it was the preferred formal greeting in the Nyst Barony, where physical contact of any sort was confined to family members and moments of intimacy. Captain Tax asked permission to come board, and Mavis, smiling slightly, bowed in return and gave his assent. An aide stepped forward holding a data slate and held it forward out to Captain Tax.

"All visitors must be logged," Mavis explained apologetically.

Grif nodded and placed his thumb on the slate. The device recorded Grif's altered thumbprint--and, Grif suspected, also took a quick scan of his altered DNA--then blipped softly. Mavis took the slate from his aide, scanned it briefly, then nodded slightly and handed it back.

"Dinner awaits," Mavis said. He dismissed his aide with a wave of his hand, then gestured for Grif to follow. A single armed marine followed them.

They traveled by transit tube--due to the size of the ship, traveling on foot was impractical--and Grif felt a moment of vertigo as he was confronted by the sheer enormity of the Centurion. It was a small, moving city, and it required a public transportation system to allow the crew to move from one area to the other. They were traveling via a smaller transit system reserved for officers, but as they did Grif saw larger cars filled with enlisted rush past them on other lines.

"This ship must be very challenging to manage," Grif said.

Mavis laughed--a genuinely warm laugh that Grif found unnerving. "Some days it doesn't feel like captaining a ship," he said. "From time to time I feel as though I were imposing military law on a city. The Centurion is a city, in a many ways. She has to be, considering the role she is intended to play."