Jameson: Harmless

I was on standby when the call came through from dirtside.

I picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Benjy? This is Luke."

"Hey Luke."

"Dad's dead."

"Oh shit!"

"You better come down."

"How did it happen?"

"The tractor rolled over on him."

"Okay, I am coming." Luke broke the connection.

The commander was sympathetic and gave me a week's leave to go bury my father. I caught the shuttle down to Lave, took the local out to Grossen Junction, and rented a mud buggy to drive to the farm.

I grew up on that farm on Lave. It was a hard life, filled with hard work and short rations. Every day we fought the weather, the insects, and the rain forest that wanted to take back the ground my grandfather had cleared. In the star catalog, Lave is "rich agricultural" but it's the bankers who get rich, not the farmers.

My mother was not cut out for that life, according to Dad. She had Luke, then me, then she gave it up a few months after I was born. Dad dug her grave on a hill under a tree. From there, you could see the farmhouse, the river, and the forest. When I was little, we visited the grave once a month, but then we stopped going there.

I don't remember when I fell in love with the tree grub hunter's daughter. It seems like I always have been. I had nothing to give her, so marriage was out of the question. There were secret meetings and stolen kisses, but that was all there was between Sylvia and me.

Dad was lying in the living room in a sealed coffin. "He was pretty messed up," Luke explained. "The undertaker couldn't do much for him."

The next day, Luke and I went up Mom's Hill to dig a grave for Dad. That's when I told Luke we should sell out. The land was all we had; my only prospect was a half share of the farm someday. There had been no money for college. I had wanted nothing to do with farm life, so when I became old enough, I had joined Galcop, learned to fly a Viper, and spent the next few years hoping that pirates would attack the coriolis space station so we could blow them up.

The pay was no good and you couldn't save any money. My dismal career stretched before me, a bleak and lonely future with nothing to look forward to at the end but a pension just big enough to starve on. Standing there beside Dad's grave, I saw a way out.

Luke was aghast. "Sell! We can't do that. Granny and Granddaddy are buried on this land. Our own mother is buried right here. Our Dad is gonna lie right here and I intend to be buried right here with them!"

"I want my share," I told him. "I need a stake."

"What the hell for? What better investment could there be than this farm?" Luke shook his head. "I know you don't want to farm, I have always known you hated it. You can go back to Galcop. I do the farming and build the value of the property. When the time is right, I'll buy you out."

"No way," I said. "I have big plans."

Luke nodded and looked down at the newly dug grave. "The autopsy said Dad had a heart attack. That wasn't what killed him. He lost control."

"I don't want that to happen to you, Luke," I said. "Sell now before the equity is all gone."

"It's not gonna happen to me. First sign of dizziness, I am gonna close the throttle and set the brake."

Luke argued awhile, but in the end, he gave in. Luke signed a mortgage at the bank and gave me the money for my share. I caught a shuttle back to the Coriolis station and resigned from Galcop. I invested my nest egg in a Mark III Cobra tradeship with a single forward firing laser gun. After equipping the ship, I had 100 credits left to buy cargo.

For months, I struggled to build my capital, working the relatively safe Leesti to Diso run, but I wasn't getting anywhere. The interest on my loan was eating me alive. I decided to go for a big score. I decided to cross the line, just once. All I wanted was enough money to pay off the loan.

It was risky, it could cost me my life, but it was better to take the risk and make it or blow up.

I refueled at Lave and jumped to Uszaa. The government at Uszaa is anarchy, so Galcop can't touch you there. I cruised toward the planet at a leisurely pace looking for a victim. I am good combat pilot, so I was confident that I could handle whatever I came up against. Galcop provides the best combat training in the eight galaxies. I didn't want to kill anybody; I just wanted their cargo.

It wasn't long before I spotted an Adder, outbound and safely (for me) outside of the local defenses. I chased him down easily, he was heavily loaded and my cargo bay was empty. I got on his tail and touched him with my laser. The adder broke right, then left, then tried to loop over me and get on my tail, but I stayed with him and touched him with the laser again and again. Each time I hit him with one blast, and then let his shields build up. The Adder pilot got the message, dumped his cargo. and beelined back toward the space station.

I broke off persuit and scanned for the cargo canisters. When I spotted them, my mouth went dry. They were all cryo-container units. That could mean only one thing: Slaves.

At Galcop, I was taught that a pirate is a just a thief, as long as nobody gets killed. But a slave trader is beneath contempt. I had to make a moral decision. If I took the slaves to Lave and handed them to Galcop, they would be freed, and I would be a hero. But I would also be broke. I would have to sell my ship to pay off my debt and go crawling back to Luke and face a life of back breaking labor on the farm for little more than three meals and a cot.

Instead, I sold the slaves at Orere for a good profit.

Back at Lave, I paid off my loan and upgraded my weapons and enlarged the cargo bay. There was a message from Luke. "Please come."

When I arrived at the farm, 24 hours later, Luke met me at the door. His new wife stood next to him and she was pregnant. It was my Sylvia, the Tree Grub Hunter's daughter. At the kitchen table, over a cup of coffee, Luke explained the situation. "I am going to have to sell the farm," he said. "The debt keeps piling up and I am just getting in deeper and deeper."

"It's your farm," I said. "You can do what you want with it."

"I was just wondering," he said, "If you might want to buy back your share. I just need enough to pay off the loan."

"That won't solve anything, Luke," I said. "You'll never get ahead farming this worn out land. You need to clear some new land and let these old fields rest for a few years. If you keep on doing the same thing, you'll just get under water again."

"It takes money to expand," said Luke. "I can't get a loan with all this debt on my back. Anyway, I don't want to get ahead. I just want to keep on going. That's all."

"I don't have any use for a farm," I said. "I don't have time to work it."

"You won't have to work it," said Luke. "I'll work both parcels and you will get half the profits."

"There won't be any profits," I said. I looked up at Sylvia, who was standing at the sink looking out the window. I could see that she was crying silently, and streaks of tears marred her beautiful face. I stood up. "Maybe I can help," I said. "But don't get your hopes up. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what I decide."

"Thanks, Benjy," said Luke, his lip trembling. "I know I can count on you."

Back in town, I went to the bank and bought out Luke's note at a big discount. The next day, before catching the shuttle back to Lave station, I phoned Luke. "I took over the loan," I told him. "You don't have to worry about foreclosure. I'll advance you enough to buy new land and equipment. You won't have to worry about anything. All you have to do is make that old farm pay. Can you do it?"

Luke was laughing. "You better believe it, Benjy, my boy! You better believe it! I'll work my goddam butt off."

And he did, too. I never collected a nickel on the loan, but my trading business prospered. I kept my nose clean after the dirty business at Uszaa and eventually I stopped being afraid of going to jail for the rest of my life. I built up a fleet of five ships and after that, I did not have to go out and risk getting my ass blown off. I spent my days in my office on the coriolis station, watching the money roll in, and parceling out small loans to Luke to keep his head above water. I lived frugally, and invested most of the profits in new ships and hiring better pilots.

One day, I got a call. It was Sylvia.

"You need to come down," she said. "Luke is dead."

"Oh hell!" I said. "How did it happen?"

"Yesterday, he didn't come home from the fields," she said. "I found him on his tractor, slumped over the steering wheel. The brakes were set and the engine was idling."

Luke once told me he wasn't going to go out like Dad. "First sign of dizziness," he had said, "I am gonna close the throttle and set the brake."

"Was he already...."

"Yes," said Sylvia. "Please come as soon as possible. There are a lot of things to sort out. There is the funeral, and then there is some business to get settled."

So I did my best to help out. Six months later, Sylvia and I got married. It seemed like the best solution; technically Sylvia owned the farm, but I held the note and it was more than the land was worth. It was the best thing for me and it was the best thing for Sylvia and Luke Junior. I moved my office to the farmhouse and became a gentleman farmer. It was easy to keep the place going with the profits from the shipping business.

About a year after that, little Maggie came along. Life was sweet and my business continued to prosper. With modern telecommunications, you can run a business from anywhere. The only thing I missed was seeing my ships and chatting with my pilots, so I would travel up to the coriolis station several times a year when one of my ships came in.

The other day, I went up to Mom's hill and stood by Luke's grave. I sometimes thought how lucky I was. If I had been born first, it might be me lying in that grave.

Then I noticed an older women in a pale blue jumpsuit, the kind worn by Galcop officers when they have business dirtside. She was standing by Dad's grave looking at me. I had not heard her approach. "You must be Benjamin," she said.

"Benjamin Jameson," I said. "Jameson Galactic. We go everywhere and we haul everything."

She looked at me a long time, but when she did not introduce herself, I asked bluntly, "Who are you, Madam?"

"I am your mother, Benjy," she said and I could not help laughing.

"You can't be," I replied. "My mother is buried right there." I pointed to the headstone next to Dad.

"There is nobody in that grave," she said. "Horace dug that grave so he wouldn't have to tell you I ran out."

I studied the stern visage before me. There was something of Luke in that face, but there was even more of me. When she died, I was too young to remember my mother. My only memories of her were of regular visits to this hill to put flowers on her grave.

But then, she was never there. "Why did you leave?"

"I left because I didn't want to end up in that grave," she said, and nodded toward the headstone. "I wasn't made for that life. And neither were you."

"Did Luke know?"

"I doubt it," she said. "He was only two years old."

"You joined Galcop," I said, looking at the insignia on her shoulders.

"And so did you," she said. "I have followed your career with interest, but I made sure we never met, out of respect for Horace's wishes. You went into combat, and I was in the investigative division. It is easy to hide in a big bureacracy like Galcop. I was very proud when you joined up. It is unfortunate that you did not stay with us."

"I have done alright," I said. "A combat pilot for Galcop is in a dead end job."

"True," she said. "But it is honest work."

I felt a chill then. I guess I sensed what was coming. "A report on a cold case came across my desk recently. It involves a cryo-container of slaves that was dumped by a slaver at Uszaa and later turned up in the slave market at Orere."

"That has nothing to do with me," I said.

"I wish that were true," she said. She turned and gestured toward the road where an official looking van was parked, a blue light rotating on the roof. "There are some officers in that van who would like to speak to you."

We talked a little more, but neither of us was able to say what we really felt. We never touched. When we finished talking, I turned away and walked toward the police van. I didn't try to run. Not then.

I don't hate my mother and I don't blame her for what she did. If it hadn't been her sitting at that desk when the report came in, it would have been somebody else. I did what I did. If I hadn't done it, I would have never had Sylvia.

I made bail, of course. The only way off Lave is by shuttle to the coriolis station, so there is no place to run, except the rainforest. It would seem my choices are jail, or the woods. The authorities don't seem to care; it saves the state a lot of money if you run.

My trial comes up in two days and my lawyer says I should plead out, but it won't make much difference. My business is gone; civil asset forfeiture, but they couldn't touch the farm because it belongs to Sylvia.

What hurts the most is losing Sylvia again. At least I know she'll be alright. She is smart and level headed. Her tree grub sideline has put the old farm in the black at last.

I don't want to go to jail and I don't want to hide in the woods. You always have choices. Dad's old shotgun still hangs over the mantle. I won't do it here. I don't want Sylvia or one of the kids to find me. I'll just take the shotgun and walk into the rainforest.

You always have choices. Maybe I'll walk into the forest and keep on going. And maybe not.

Ben Jameson: mostly harmless.

THE END

Bio: Cary Semar is a retired aerospace engineer living in Galveston County,Texas. He was for a time short story editor for this web-zine. He is identified in the forum as astrogator.

E-mail: Cary Semar

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