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Periphery Redemption

Chapter 3

New Marshalburg, Raldamax
Outworlds Alliance
10 January 3001

   The taxi that arrived at the spaceport turned out to be nothing more then a utility truck with a modified cargo body.  Crude bench seats lined each side of the compartment and from the smell inside the last occupants of the taxi had either been livestock or another dropship crew returning to the spaceport after a week long bender.  The only words they heard from their driver were “Where to?” and the amount of the fair when they got to where they were going.  That location had been predetermined by the crew and Joe decided to tag along.
   The Long Liner was not the worst bar located near the dockyards of New Marshalburg, but then again there were no nice bars in this part of town.  The capital city of Raldamax, New Marshalburg made its living from the Western Volcanic Ocean and the Golden River.  Most of the cities population worked in the fishing industry or handled the vast amounts of grain and produce that flowed down the river from the Calverton Plains to the spaceport.  Once a year the city went into a flurry as the fishing season peaked, the harvest came in, and dropships descended on the spaceport in droves to bring in goods from other systems and haul away the planet’s exports.  The rest of the year was a write off. 
   The crew of the Rocinante burst into the Long Liner looking for food, drink, and any other way to blow through their pay.  If they had made planet fall a few weeks earlier they would have found the bar jumping as fishing crews spent their last few days in port before heading out on the first trips of the season.  As it was the six members of the dropship crew more then doubled the amount of people in the place.  The lone bartender looked surprised to see anyone walk through the door, but it didn’t take him long to get the drinks flowing.  Once they had their beverages the crew moved off to one of the tables next to the bar and started a game of cards.  Joe stayed at the bar a few seats down from the only other patron of the establishment; who was passed out at the time.  He didn’t need to loose his pay in a card game or by trying to drink the bar’s inventory single handedly.  Instead what he needed was information.
   â€œYou been on a dropship crew long?” Joe knew it wouldn’t take the bartender long to start talking.  Besides, what else did he have to do?
   â€œNo.  I only sign up for short hauls when I need the money.”
   â€œHumf.  What ship you on?” asked the bartender as he picked up a rag and started cleaning glasses.
   â€œI was on the Rocinante, but not anymore.  As a matter of fact I was planning on calling Raldamax home for awhile.”
   â€œWhy would you want to do a thing like that?” the note of the bartender’s voice only added to the quizzical look on his face.
   â€œSeems like a nice little place to settle down,” even Joe found that lie hard to believe.
   â€œHumf,” the bartender’s snorting grunt announced that he didn’t believe it either.  “What kind of work you plan on finding around here?”
   â€œTech work if I can find it,” bartenders were usually better then employment services.  They knew who really needed help and where the better pay was.  “Anybody around here looking for a good tech?”  The question caused the bartender to stop cleaning glasses for a second.
   â€œWell, if you had been here a few weeks earlier you could have gotten on a fishing boat crew.  Good pay but terrible work.  The fisheries might could use you but again that’s rough and smelly work.  Your best bet is going to be to head out toward Calverton.  Agrostations and such are always looking for people.  As a matter of fact I’ve got a cousin that’s a long haul driver and he has a lot of connections.  He might be able to give you a heads up.  If nothing else he can give you a ride out there.”
   â€œSounds promising.  How can I get a hold of your cousin?”
   The bartender moved over a few steps and slapped the head of the passed out guy.  “Hey, Tony wake up.  I’ve got a guy here that needs a ride.”
   Tony jumped from the slap and the loud voice that didn’t help his growing headache.  “What?”
   â€œI said you might have a paying customer for your next haul,” the bartender obviously had that I-only-put-up-with-this-guy-because-he’s-my-cousin thing going on.  He moved off down the bar and kept cleaning glasses as Tony and Joe talked.
   â€œOh, yeah?” Tony turned to his left and only then realized that Joe was there.  “Oh, sorry.  Thought Willy was messing with me again,” he quickly wiped his right hand on his pants and extended it to Joe.  “Names Tony Maple, long haul driver.”
   â€œJoe Castiglioni,” he gave Tony’s hand a firm shake.
   â€œSo where you headed, Joe?”
   â€œAny place that needs a tech.”
   â€œA tech, huh?  You ever worked on agro equipment before?” Tony picked up his drink and took a sip.
   â€œNo.  But if it has moving parts I can fix it.”
   â€œThat’s okay.  It’s not like anyone around here is going to ask for credentials or anything,” Tony took another sip.  “I know of a couple of places that might be needing help between here and Calverton.  I’ve got to pick up a load tomorrow morning and head out that way.  If you want to ride along you can.”
   â€œSounds good to me,” said Joe as he pulled out a couple of C-bills and put them on the bar.  “Where and when do you want to meet up tomorrow?”
   â€œ7:00 in the morning out front,” Tony took the C-bills off the bar, slid them into his pocket, and stood up to leave.  His legs wobbled a little when he did.  “Make that 8:00.  Where you staying?”
   â€œI’m not.  See you in the morning.”
   Tony threw Joe a little salute and walked off toward the staircase at the back of the bar.
   â€œHe’s got a place upstairs,” Willy said as he slid back into his normal position behind the bar.  “You need a place to stay?”
   â€œNah.  I’m still set up on the third crew shift.  I won’t need to sleep for another 8 hours or so.  Thanks for your help,” Joe slid him a few more C-bills then his drink cost.
   â€œNo problem.  Just keep an eye on Tony and keep him out of the bars while he’s on the road,” Willy took the C-bills and slid them into his tip box under the bar, right next to his slug thrower.
   Joe left the bar and sat down next to the card game.  George was already out of a good part of his pay and was threatening to put whoever won the next pot on waste disposal duty.  The games went on until the bar closed around 2:00 in the morning.  The rest of the crew went off to find a motel but Joe headed off to find an all night diner after making another round of goodbyes.  He found one a few blocks away and got something to eat.  Well before 8:00 he was out in front of the Long Liner with his gear waiting for Tony.  At 8:20 Tony showed up. 
            The rig was a large, long distance jobber and Joe had plenty of room to stretch out in the sleeping compartment.  He didn’t wakeup until they stopped at the spaceport.  Tony was picking up a couple of containers marked agricultural equipment.  Joe thought they looked just like some of the ones the Rocinante had been carrying.  But then again just about all containers dropships hauled looked the same.  They left the spaceport and headed east on the Transcontinental Highway.  That was when Joe found out how close the spaceport was to the Golden River.  The highway took a straighter line toward Calverton, the major city in the middle of the Calverton Plains and the only other large city on the continent besides New Marshalburg and Adelaide, then the river.  Along the way were a couple of dozen small towns clustered around Agrostations.  Tony would stop to refuel and ask around the stations if anybody was needing a tech.  The best line they seemed to find was on a tech position at a large Agrostation in Calverton.  It took them a day and a half to get there and by the time they got to the Agrostation the position had been filled.  Tony did some more networking in town but couldn’t find anything for Joe.
            “Sorry Joe,” said Tony as he climbed back into the cab.  “Anderson’s was the last place I could think of that might need workers.”
            “That’s alright, Tony.  It looks like I just hit Raldamax at the wrong time.”
            “Yeah.  If you can hang on a few months when the harvest begins to come in I’m sure you’ll be able to find work.”
            The only problem with that was that Joe didn’t have a few months to wait.  “So where to now?”
            “Well, I’ve got to drop this load off at a little place out east of town.  You can ride along if you want.”
            “Sure.  Not like I’ve got anything else to do,” quipped Joe.
            East of Calverton civilization ended.  According to Tony there wasn’t anything between the city and the Encircling Mountains except a handful of farms and Big Jim’s Repair, the destination of Tony’s load.  As far as Joe could tell he was right.  All he could see were endless grain fields and the occasional farm in the distance.  You could just begin to see the mountains when they came upon Big Jim’s.
            Big Jim’s Repair was the only repair shop within kilometers of anywhere.  It looked like it had been there since the time of the Star League and hadn’t been cleaned ever.  As Tony’s rig pulled up a short, burly, grease covered man came waddling out to meet them.
            “It’s about time, Tony,” roared the man as Tony opened his door.  He didn’t even wait for him to respond before turning around and barking orders.  “Little Jim, Billy get your butts in gear.”  Two guys that were sitting in one of the repair bays jumped to their feet and started trotting over to a huge forklift.
            “Sorry, Big Jim,” said Tony trying not to make eye contact with the man as he climbed down out of the cab.
            “You had better be glad I’m not the one paying you for this trip,” Big Jim grumbled as he pulled an envelope out of his coveralls and handed it to Tony.
            “Well I had a little engine trouble that held me up,” Tony lied.
            “I’m sure,” said Big Jim as the two guys on the forklift began taking the crates off the rig and Joe hopped out of the cab.  The screech of protesting metal caused everyone to turn their attention toward the trailer.  “Whoa!  Whoa!  Stop!  Little Jim, you idiot I said stop!” barked Big Jim as he waddled toward the forklift.
            Little Jim threw his hands up away from the controls as his father made his way to the forklift.  He had picked one of the containers up a little off center causing one end to dip and the contents inside to shift.  It was now perched in a precarious position on the side of the trailer.
            “Son of…,” Big Jim muttered as he looked over the situation.  “Boy, if your mother was still alive I would punch her in the mouth for giving birth to you.”
            “Doesn’t Mark usually unload the trailers?” asked Tony as he came up behind Big Jim.
            “Mark got a job at Anderson’s two weeks ago,” snarled Big Jim as he shot Tony a nasty look.  “Lousy mutt left me shorthanded.”
            “So you need a tech?”
            “Yeah I need a tech,” Big Jim growled, “got one laying around?”
            “As a matter of fact I do.” Tony turned around and looked at Joe.
            Big Jim looked around Tony to get a look at Joe.  “Where’d you pick him up?”
            “That’s not really important.  What is important is that he can fix anything and operate just about any piece of equipment known to man.” Tony was laying it on thick.  “He got my rig up and running in no time flat.” Well as long as you were lying you might as well go all out, right?
            “Humpf,” grunted Big Jim.  “What’s your name?”
            “Joe Castiglioni.”
            “Okay, Mr. Castiglioni.  If you can somehow get this container off the rig and onto that flatbed over there without busting it all to pieces you’ve got yourself a job.”
            “Sounds fair.  What kind of pay am I looking at?”  No sense getting a job that doesn’t pay the bills.
            “Enough to cover your expenses lets put it that way,” retorted Big Jim.  Billy rolled his eyes at the comment.  Joe, however, was in no position to be choosy.
            “Alright, you’ve got a deal,” said Joe as he walked up to the side of the forklift and started to climb up to the driver’s seat.  Big Jim waved his arm to get Little Jim to get out of the way.  Joe got behind the controls and started to shift the container back up onto the trailer.  He moved the forklift around a few times trying to find the container’s new balancing point.  Once he found it he picked the container up.  Billy then walked along and gave him hand signals to help load the container onto the flatbed.  Joe then turned the forklift around and went back to the trailer.
            “So how’d I do?” asked Joe.
            “You did alright,” Big Jim grinned.  It didn’t last long.  “Now finish unloading the trailer.  We’ve got other things to do around here.”
Joe unloaded the other container and returned the forklift to its parking place.  By that time Tony had finished refueling his rig and was ready to go.
            “Thanks for your help, Tony.”
            “Don’t thank me too much.  Big Jim isn’t the world’s greatest boss, if you know what I mean.”
            “Well, thanks anyway,” said Joe as he stuck out his hand.
            “Your welcome,” Tony gave it a shake.  “I’ll see you around.  I make one of these runs about two or three times a year.  Keep yourself safe.”
            “Will do.”
            Tony climbed up into the rig’s cab and put it into gear.  He made a wide turn out into the road and started back for Calverton leaving Joe in a swirl of dust.
            “Hey, Joe,” yelled Big Jim as he waddled across the ferrocrete.  “I take it you don’t have a place to stay around here?”
            “No, sir,” said Joe as he shook his head.
            “Well, I’ve got a place outback you can bunk in until you can find some place to live.  It isn’t much more then a cot but it’ll do for a few days at least.”
            “Thanks.”
            “Don’t thank me for nothin.  Once you stow your gear get back to work.  Billy needs a hand getting the lift in bay 3 working and I’ve got to go make a delivery.”
            “You got it, boss,” said Joe as he followed his new employer to what looked like an old storage room.  He dropped his gear on the cot and then headed off to find Billy.  The two of them spent several hours getting the lift going again.  The whole time Joe couldn’t help but think about how far he was from his former life.  He had gone from nobility to nobody, from a cockpit to a grease pit.  But the more he thought about it the less it seemed to bother him.  Maybe he was at the end of his journey.  Maybe Raldamax was really going to be his home.  Just maybe.