Doubt (The Adventures of a Xeno-Archaeologist Book 2) by Jenny Schwartz

Author:Jenny Schwartz [Schwartz, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Nora shoved the question of the Vapori lens, and whether she and Jonah might be able to reconnect Stranded humanity with the rest of humanity, to the back of her mind. Future problems and opportunities could only be addressed once they’d established a secure foundation.

The lens was a years-in-the-future, maybe-never problem.

Here and now, on the bridge of her small scout ship, she had to register her claim to Beaconditch and its blaze deposit. It was the first step, the irrevocable action, after which everything would happen fast.

Three hours ago, the CC Kangaroo had come into comms-range of Border Station.

Anyone else would have spent those three hours receiving and reading messages and news newer than that downloaded at the Border Station mailbox which they’d passed two days ago. However, Jonah’s passive scan ability meant they were up to date on critical news and events. He’d spent the three hours hacking station systems.

Behind them, the hatch to the bridge remained closed.

If Aria needed Nora, there was an intercom.

It wouldn’t be used. In the gym, Aria was playing a fierce game of handball against a virtual opponent. After she showered, she had a math tutorial. If she finished it on time, Nora had promised her a Stars Galore Sundae on Border Station. So, Aria was motivated to work independently while Nora dealt with bureaucracy.

“Ready,” Jonah said.

Nora hit the submit button which sent her registration of a blaze discovery to the Department of Space. Then she sent the other messages she had queued up.

Inside of two minutes, she had a response to her claim registration in the form of a voice call.

A deep male voice identified himself as the director of the Department of Space office on Border Station. Jonah authenticated the caller. “Are you joshing us, Captain Devi?”

“Nope.” Nora popped the “p” in her response. “I have three samples and footage of me acquiring them on the planet. I’ve struck blaze. A whole planet of it.” Which was an exaggeration. The percentage of blaze in Beaconditch’s crust was probably closer to three percent; a fact she’d included in her claim registration.

Three percent was significant enough that the director didn’t correct her hyperbole. “We’ll meet you when you dock. If we verify your samples, it will increase the value of your claim.”

Nora laughed. “I don’t have to be coaxed into sharing the samples with you. However, I expect you’ll have company as you wait for me to dock. I’m hoping to open negotiations with Willow Lange of the Blue Dock Scrapyard.”

The director’s sharp inhalation carried over the comms link. “An open market bid—”

The Department of Space oversaw open market bidding for new claims. For independent taggers like Nora, they were considered the safest option.

But that was in the inner realm where the Department of Space was fully supported by robust police forces. On Border Station, the Department of Space required the RC Genghis Khan to be docked for the department to have any teeth. With the battlecruiser away on patrol, the Department of Space was a legal power, but in practical terms, offered the same level of support as wet cardboard.

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