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Periphery Redemption

Chapter 5

East of Big Jim’s Repair, Raldamax
Outworlds Alliance
12 June 3001

   The road east of Big Jim’s got worse the further you traveled down it.  By the end most of the pavement was gone.  In several places Joe had to be careful and take his time or otherwise his load would have wound up in a ditch.  He was about to call it quits when he came upon the driveway marked “Weber.”
   The driveway turned out to be much better maintained then the road and Joe followed its winding way through freshly turned fields for over two kilometers.  The land had become rolling not far past Big Jim’s and the fields were interspersed with trees.  Joe was admiring the scenery when he crested a hill that overlooked his destination.  Laid out before him was an estate; an honest to goodness estate.  Well manicured lawns, tended trees and shrubberies, a garden, and a manor house.  Joe stopped the flatbed and gapped at what he saw.  In a way it reminded him of home, except for one thing.  Behind the manor house was a barn.  Actually it was much larger then a barn, more like a hangar or an industrial complex.  Whatever it was it seemed extremely out of place.  After a few moments Joe gave up on his site seeing and started down the hill.  The driveway split off several times but it was easy to figure which path led where.  As he made his way across the grounds Joe continued to wonder about what he was seeing.  Who in the universe would live in a place like that on a planet like Raldamax?  Of course what did that matter to him; he was just here to make a delivery. 
   The deadhead crane was near one of the barn’s large doors.  Joe pulled the flatbed under it and shut the truck down.  He found the envelope exactly where Big Jim said it would be and then went about using the crane to unload the flatbed.  Parts of the crane looked new, but most of it looked older then the equipment at Big Jim’s; which would qualify it for museum status.  Working the controls took some getting used to but Joe quickly got the hang of it.  First he unloaded the smaller containers, using them for practice.  Then he turned his attention to the large one.  The ancient crane strained to lift the container.  Joe was careful not to make any sudden or jerking movements with the crane for fear of snapping a cable, but to no avail.  The tell tale twang of a cable coming apart warned Joe of what was about to happen and he tried to run the container back onto the truck.  He almost made it before the cable snapped and sent the container slamming down onto the edge of the flatbed.  The joints of the container gave way and its cargo came spilling out onto the ground.  Joe stood frozen at the controls of the crane.  Today was turning out to be a day full of surprises.  Mysterious deliveries, grand estates in the middle of nowhere, and now a pair of Imperator-A autocannons falling out of a busted shipping container marked agricultural equipment.  Surprising indeed.

The Weber Estate, Raldamax
Outworlds Alliance
12 June 3001

   After a few moments Joe snapped back to reality.  He slowly turned his gaze from the autocannons to the manor house.  Questions started firing through his mind.  Who, on Raldamax, needed autocannons?  Did the authorities know about this?  How did they get through customs at the spaceport?  Why was Tony involved?  Why was Big Jim involved?  Well, that one was easy enough to answer.  Joe was pretty sure the envelope he had found on the controls of the deadhead crane was full of cash.  But that didn’t explain who was filling envelopes with money and collecting mech class weapon systems.  Well, there was only one way to find out the answers to his questions and Joe was sure that whoever lived in the manor house would have them.
   He hadn’t made it far before one of the back doors of the house opened.  Walking across the lawn toward Joe was a man of average height and build with salt and pepper hair.  He appeared to be in his fifties, though at a distance it was hard to tell.
   â€œHello, there.  What seems to be the trouble?” asked the man before Joe had a chance to ask a question of his own.
   â€œOne of the cables snapped on the crane and dropped one of the containers,” answered Joe somewhat surprised by the nonchalance of someone who was apparently buying military hardware.
   â€œOh, I see.  Was anything damaged?”
   â€œI don’t think so.  What…”
   â€œAh, good,” the man said before Joe could ask a question.  “And who might you be?”
   â€œJoe Castiglioni.  And you are?”
   â€œJonathan Weber, but my friends call me John.  Where’s Big Jim?”
   â€œHe broke his foot.  He sent me to make the delivery.  Speaking of the delivery…”
   â€œYes, the delivery,” John said.  “Well, ah, what do you think of it?”
   â€œI think it’s odd for someone in the middle of nowhere to need a Class 5 autocannon,” blurted Joe.
   â€œReally,” answered John.  “You knew it was a Class 5 autocannon just by looking at it?”
   â€œYes.  But that’s besides…”
   â€œAre you a tech?” asked John cutting off Joe again.
   â€œNo.”
   â€œBut you know something about mechs though?”
   â€œYes.  But I…”
   â€œAre you a mechwarrior?” John’s eyes lit up as he asked the question.
   â€œYes,” Joe answered in a fluster.  “I mean no.  I mean… I used to be.”
   â€œReally.  That’s excellent!” chirped John.  “Where are you from?  No, wait.  Don’t tell me.  Umm.  The Free Worlds League.”
   â€œYes.”
   â€œDuchy of Oriente.”
   â€œYes.”
   â€œTough merchants in the Duchy of Oriente.  That’s a really tough market to get into.”
   â€œI wouldn’t know,” said Joe.
   â€œOh, I’m sorry.  Thinking about old times.”
   â€œI take it then that you’re not from Raldamax, Mr. Weber,” said Joe trying to fish some information out of John.
   â€œNo.  I’m originally from the Lyran Commonwealth.  And the name’s John.”
   â€œSo what are you doing with military hardware, John?” asked Joe.
   â€œWell…,” said John trailing off.  The smile that had been on his face drooped for a moment while he thought things over.  “Let’s go inside, get something to drink, and talk.”
   â€œLead the way,” said Joe.
   John turned around and began walking back to the manor house with Joe in tow.  They entered into the kitchen and Joe quickly saw that the inside of the house matched the outside.  The kitchen was neat and clean.  What he could see of the living room or den that it was connected to was well appointed, though smaller then he would have imagined. 
   â€œWhat can I get for you?  Water, coffee, tea?  Maybe something a little stronger?” asked John.
   â€œWater will be fine,” said Joe.  He had learned during his counter intelligence training that water was much more difficult to poison then liquor or brewed beverages.
   â€œHave you ever heard of a company called Penrose/Weber?” asked John as he handed a glass of water to Joe.
   â€œSure, who hasn’t?” responded Joe.  And then it hit him.  Big estate, middle of nowhere, hard to get mech weapons; it all added up to one thing.  The man he was talking to was the John Weber; as in Jonathan Eugene Penrose Weber, one of the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest, men in the known universe at one time.  The story of his life was legendary.
   It had all started centuries before John Weber was even born.  The Lyran Commonwealth was known as the home of some of the largest corporations in the Inner Sphere, and none were larger then Penrose Incorporated and Weber Interstellar.  Penrose Incorporated had been in existence since the First Succession War and was a giant manufacturing conglomerate that produced everything from clothing to consumer electronics to vehicles to industrial equipment.  Weber Interstellar had been a major transportation company since before the Third Succession War and owned 3 jumpships and nearly two dozen dropships.  When Caroline Penrose married Eugene Weber in 2934 it was more then the joining of two individuals, it was a merger of mammoth proportions.  Most people thought that when John was born in 2940 his life would be one of ease filled with nothing but happiness and joy.  Instead it became one of tragedy and heartache.  On his 10th birthday John’s father was killed in a dropship crash on his way home to surprise his son.  Then during his senior year of college his mother died from cancer.  At the age of 21 John Weber was the head of the one of the largest corporations in the Commonwealth.  He met the challenge head on and within 10 years Penrose/Weber was the largest corporation in the Commonwealth, but his success would cost John dearly.  In 2976 John married Marissa Buhler, a model and would be actress.  The marriage was tumultuous at best.  Always considered a diva during her modeling career it turned out that Marissa was manic depressive and her condition made the marriage extremely difficult.  On top of that John was always busy with the company and was away for long periods of time.  The one bright spot seemed to be the birth of their daughter Elizabeth Faye in 2979.  Being a mother apparently calmed some of Marissa’s demons and the couple became closer then ever.  But when John went on his first extended business trip after two years of running the business from home Marissa had a major psychotic episode.  The investigation revealed that she had smothered Elizabeth Faye before setting their home on fire and killing herself.  The effect on John was overwhelming.  Within days of the deaths of his wife and daughter he had turned Penrose/Weber over to its board of directors and disappeared.  For the next twenty years the tabloid media throughout the Inner Sphere ran stories several times a year about Weber spottings, so the story of his life was well known to just about everyone.  And now Joe found himself face to face with a legend.
   â€œSo you’re the Jonathan Weber?” asked Joe.
   â€œYes, I’m the Jonathan Weber.”
   â€œAnd you’ve been hiding out on Raldamax for twenty years collecting mech parts?”
   â€œWell, no.  I’ve only been here for oh, around eight years.  Before that I bounced around.  Free Worlds League, Federated Suns, and the Taurian Concordant mostly.  But every place I stopped it always seemed that someone recognized me or started asking questions.  Then I passed through the Outworlds Alliance and found out no one here knew who I was; or at least didn’t care who I was.  And the rest, as they say, is history,”
   â€œAnd the mech parts?” asked Joe.
   â€œOh, that.  That’s my hobby,” John answered nonchalantly.
   â€œYou collect mech parts as a hobby?”
   â€œNo, no, no.  That would be silly.  No, I’m restoring mechs.”
   John’s response hit Joe like a bombshell.  This man was restoring mechs.  Here, on Raldamax.  Right down the road from where Joe worked.  It was too much to believe.  The look on his face must have given away what he was thinking.
   â€œSo, you were a mechwarrior?” asked John trying to redirect the conversation.
   â€œYeah, a long time ago,” said Joe.  In his mind it was beginning to feel like a lifetime ago.
   â€œSee any combat?”
   â€œI don’t want to talk about it,” answered Joe as his mood instantly darkened.
   â€œSorry.  I didn’t mean to pry,” said John as he began thinking about how he could broach the question he really wanted to ask.  “Joe, I can call you Joe?  Let me be blunt and honest.  I started rebuilding mechs a few years ago simply because they interested me and I needed something to do.  A man can only garden so much.  The problem is I have no clue how to really work on the things and I really don’t have a clue when it comes to piloting one.  And until a few minutes ago I didn’t know there was anyone on this planet that had ever even been inside a mech before let alone knew how to operate one.  So what I’m trying to say is, will you come to work for me?”
   The day was rapidly becoming surreal for Joe.  First he discovers a mansion, then he stumbles upon an autocannon, then he finds a long lost industrialist, and now that industrialist is offering him a job; working with mechs no less.
   â€œWhat about the planetary authorities?  Do they know you have mechs on planet?” asked Joe as he suddenly remembered that states tended to have a dim view of people in possession of undeclared weapons systems; especially mechs.
   â€œOh, don’t worry about that.  The planetary government and I are on very good terms.  They don’t care what I do as long as it doesn’t cause any trouble.  And spreading a little money around never hurt either.”
   Joe leaned against the kitchen counter while he tried to mull over the situation in his head.  Here was an opportunity to at least work on and pilot mechs again.  But what about all the questions?  Was this really the Jonathan Weber?  Were the planetary authorities really okay with someone having mechs in their possession?  What would he tell Big Jim?  Joe’s mental debate didn’t take that long in reality.  In the end it came down to one thing; getting the chance to get in a mech cockpit again.
   â€œWhat do you pay?”
   â€œI can beat anything Big Jim can offer,” responded John not able to keep the excitement from his voice.
   â€œThat shouldn’t be hard,” Joe deadpanned.  “And my commute just got a good bit longer.”
   â€œWhy commute?  You can live here.  It’s not like I don’t have the room.”
   Joe looked around the kitchen, it was bigger then his apartment.  “Sounds like a deal.”
   â€œExcellent,” said John as they shook on the deal.  “Now let’s get that mess cleaned up out there.”
   It took John and Joe over two hours to repair the deadhead crane, unload the cargo, and store it in the mech barn.  It was inside the barn that Joe discovered what he would be working on and that John had greatly underestimated his mechanical abilities.  Standing in one of the barn’s cradles was a nearly complete WSP-1A Wasp.  Next to it was a partially rebuilt ENF-4R Enforcer.  In another cradle was the head and torso of a RFL-3N Rifleman.  In all there were twelve cradles in the barn, four each on three walls.  Along the front wall was a machine shop that would give some the Inner Sphere’s biggest mech producers a run for their money.  Joe stood in the middle of the barn and soaked it all in as John stored the last crate in the Rifleman’s cradle.
   â€œGives you goose bumps, doesn’t it?” asked John.
   â€œSomething like that,” mumbled Joe as he continued to look at his surroundings.
   â€œWell, I guess you need to get back to Big Jim’s.”
   â€œYeah, but he probably isn’t going to take my leaving very well.”
   â€œWell, if he gives you any troubles just tell him I’ll increase the size of his envelopes as compensation,” said John with an impish grin as he turned to exit the barn.
   Outside they confirmed their plans for tomorrow which mostly included Joe getting his stuff together to move out to the estate, taking a tour of the grounds, and going over the needs and problems of the mechs.  After shacking hands again Joe climbed into the flatbed and began heading back to Big Jim’s.  Today had been an extraordinary day and tomorrow looked like it would continue that trend.  Joe couldn’t help but think that it was all a dream.  And if it was a dream he didn’t want anyone to wake him up.