Higgs & Soap: Galaxy Delivery

Chapter 9

"You sure that starboard hold hatch is closed?" called Soap over the ship's intercom.

"Pretty sure," replied Higgs, "otherwise I'd be knocking on the cockpit window trying to get back in about now."

They had taken off from Williams City Spaceport and had broken atmosphere a few minutes ago. Higgs had been down in the cargo hold and strapped himself into the emergency seat for the ride. He didn't like to bother Soap when she was in full "pilot" mode. The same way he hated to be interrupted when he was doing paperwork on his HUD; it broke your train of thought.

Apart from the cargo hatch warning light that Soap told him about (it was closed and locked) everything had gone smoothly. He had been half expecting strike ships to intercept them on ascent (the most vulnerable time for any ship) and force them into an emergency landing. That was a favoured tactic of the bandits in this sector. Not so much in the capital city, but after the attacks on the train and the freeway, he was ready for anything. But it seemed like their luck was picking up after all.

He unhooked himself from the seat and gently kangaroo hopped across the empty hold towards the hold hatch. He checked it for the third time. It was closed and locked. Good. The last thing he needed was more repair expenses. They were already having to use low gravity mode to save on money.

Higgs brought up his bank account balance on his HUD and quickly wished he hadn't. He checked it compulsively every few hours, even though he knew it would never look any better. His delivery firm had been going for over two cycles now, and had only been in the black twice: when he deposited the "starting" loan and when he deposited the "still starting" loan. The delivery business was monopolised by five large companies, leaving anyone smaller scrabbling for the same tiny local jobs. His business plan involved specialising in longer distance "discreet" deliveries, for which he needed an ace pilot, who soon became his business partner when she very quickly twigged on to what they were carrying. "If I'm going to be in this, I'm going to be all in," she told him.

So he understood why their latest client picked them. If you have some particularly sensitive data you need transporting physically, you don't go with a big name. You find a small, relatively unknown but trustworthy company to take it. Ideally a delivery business like theirs, with what he hoped was a rapidly growing reputation on the SubNet. Or he supposed they could have plucked them out of a list of dozens.

He'd had secretive clients before of course, but this was all encrypted channels, locations and dates only. He was beginning to wish he hadn't accepted the job, but then again it was his fault for not asking how many "attempts on life" it came with.

He turned around to inspect the emptiness in front of him. It was still there. The hold was six metres high, with shelving along the rear end. It was split in half by the drop down ramp and steep steps at either end that went up to between the sleeping quarters and the dining area up front, and to a cramped section of engineering and computer equipment that sat behind the main thrusters at the back. At capacity the hold could fit twenty five auto-drives. Right now the most valuable thing in here was his flight jacket breast pocket.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have told Soap how bad things were. She was a good business partner and the last thing he needed was for her to bail for a more stable job elsewhere. He couldn't understand how anyone could not employ someone with her qualifications just because she was trans-species. Because it didn't make sense to him, it was a constant worry that she would be poached by one of the big five. If only they could get some larger contracts, or just two jobs at the same time. At least that would fill in that corner of the hold where he saw something moving. A few good jobs in a row would keep her happy enough to stay. After all, if he was honest with himself, he couldn't bear to...

"Hang on."

Higgs hopped towards the far corner of the hold. At the front it was filled with ship supplies: a few boxes of tools and parts, a spare fuel pod, food and water, some spare uniforms (the minimum order was ten of each) and a broken cooling unit that came with the ship when he bought it. He looked behind the boxes but saw nothing.

"Higgs you fool," he said out loud, "you're getting paranoid that someone is after you for the data card in your breast pocket. I mean, as if someone could have gotten on to the ship on the landing pad. I checked, the hold ramp hadn't been used since we were gone. And there was no other accessible way on board."

He hopped back to the middle of the hold.

"Yep, there's no need to worry. You'll get this data to Varda City One in no time. Just one quick stop off at Morley Station to fuel up – didn't get the chance at Williams City Spaceport 'cos we had to leave so quick – then we're good to go for Scylla."

"You say something?" said Soap over the intercom.

Higgs hopped over to the back of the hold next to the ramp and tapped a button on the wall. "Just talking to myself again."

"Haha. You talk in your sleep you know."

"I do? What about?"

There was a giggle, "Not sayin'."

"Anyway, I'm just going to the engineering room to uselessly stare at things I don't understand for a bit."

"As long as you don't touch anything."

"Not even in my most terrifying nightmares."

He tapped the speaker off and looked around again.

"Once this is done, we'll get a normal job... well, a less dangerous 'dodgy' job. We'll have this hold full of goods and be on our way to success. Then one day we'll have a whole fleet of ships, darting across the galaxy. Heh-heh. He won't be able to ignore me then."

The smile on his face faded and he gave a deep sigh. "Until then, just got to keep 'not dead' for a little while longer."

Higgs disappeared up the rear steps towards engineering as the man hidden behind the boxes tutted and shook his head.