Trevor intended to uphold his promise, but the early-morning message clouded his judgement. He pushed the dilemma to one side en route to Harmony Spaceport Master Control. Another piece in a maddening puzzle to sort.
HSMC rose above one end of the port like a control tower. In the old days of Ark Carriers, this facility oversaw a fleet of Unification Guard capital ships, Scramjets, and transports. Thousands of soldiers served on each Carrier while it orbited above a colony world.
Today, a team of fifteen – only six of whom were on duty during this shift – supervised the comings and goings of civilian liners and private shuttles. The controllers occupied large stations with wide berths, their voices echoing through the oversized chamber.
Liv Shee, a Cairns native with long shocks of fire red hair and large-rimmed decorative eyeglasses, greeted Trevor.
“A personal visit from the Governor.” She extended a hand. “Consider me floored.”
“Lonely up here, is it?”
“Peaceful is our preferred term. How are you, Trevor?”
They shared a few nights out when he was a young deputy and she worked in Central Accounting. Might have been more had she not rotated out.
“At the moment, Liv, I’m swamped. I’d love to catch up, but I need help with a logistical matter then my duties are ...”
She rubbed his arm in a familiar way and interjected.
“I know, I know. You’ll leave me high and dry again.”
“Excuse me?”
She cackled. “Bad joke. Sorry. I was the one who left.” She moved on from the flippant remark. “Your Chief of Staff implied the schedules were insufficient.”
“Not anything you did wrong. I’m curious about certain routes, cancellations, occupancy numbers.”
Liv twirled her lips.
“Odd. Yesterday your man said this related to staffing levels. You were looking into increasing our budget. Yet the new request sounds unrelated. Am I on to your game?”
“You are, but I’m not at liberty to play fair. You’ll have to trust me. Can we talk in private?”
She led them into an office surrounded by glass walls. It reminded him of Haven Sec Admin. Two holos hovered above her desk.
“I called up the schedules you asked for. Assuming they’re still relevant, what data will meet your fancy?”
Hmm. Might as well start big.
“The Intersystem Commercial Registry.”
She scoffed. “Oh, I see. The macro view. That little old thing.”
Liz opened another holo and scrolled through options.
“How many ships are listed altogether?” He asked.
“Sixty-one hundred and seventeen.”
Shit.
“Guess all the talk about regulating worm drive ownership made no difference.”
“Not in the least. Luckily, it’s no problem here. Between us and Episteme, we only have thirty-six landing zones, and we’re not a trading port. But terrestrial port controllers constantly thread a needle. It’s getting out of hand. I worked three years at Barca Intersystem on Catalan. I medicated daily.”
Trevor didn’t come here for an analysis of interstellar traffic problems. However, Liv’s mention of one of her postings before she returned to Amity gave Trevor an idea.
“Catalan. Right. You also worked Yaniff and ... I forget.”
“Inuit Kingdom. Ugh. Worst two months of my life. Dreadful little black hole called Tivvian Town. If you’ve never heard of it, be thankful, and pray you never will.”
Whatever. Trevor moved on.
“You’re in regular touch with every intersystem port. Yes?”
“Have to be. I’m good friends with many a portmaster.”
“I’m curious. Have you – or they – noticed any recent shifts in transport patterns?”
She raised a skeptical brow.
“None I’ve heard of. What’s your angle, Trevor?”
“How many private vessels in the registry?”
She glanced at the statistics.
“Seventeen hundred and ninety-five.”
