Parker Andersen's page

Parker turns and winks at the rest of you, and before taking the androids hand, he says quietly

We have the short range communicators, remember. Here let me show you how they work.

Parker takes a moment to show the group how to turn on the communicator, and how it basically works, and then says

Just keep it turned on. The power cell should keep it working as long as it is in the light of the sun. Once the sun goes down, or if you go into the temple, it will last probably twelve hours. I’ll contact you before then. Just be careful.

With that he leaves with Aimea

With nothing else to do for a while, do you go back across the bridge, and then approach the temple entrance to “check it out”?

I think we've got a opportunity here and we need to move quickly Parker says

Aimea, please show me the installation location of the black globe generator before it was removed from the ship.

Parker turns to Gwernach, Sasithorn, Yildiri, and Marvin and says

I think I'll be fine. I'll be in and out as quickly as I can. Meanwhile, see what is the deal with that temple. It can't be too large. While I'm with Aimea I'll try to find out when this Red Woman is expected to return, but believe me, time is not on our side. I may have exaggerated about the UCoIG response, but I've no doubt they are inbound. We have at most a few days before this whole area is turned into a quarantined demilitarized zone

Parker’s jaw drops slightly, So it is true, he sighs. With one hand he scratches his head, and then asks. If the red Mysterion will not be returning anytime soon, I wonder if you, with your Homesteaders escorting me, could show me the location where the generator was connected to the ships systems?

While the woman is considering the request he turns again to the rest of you, and says quietly

I need to at least put my eyes on the connection points for the generators equipment, maybe get a few pictures. If they let me in, I want to ask the rest of you to head to the entrance of that temple, maybe scout the entrance, but be careful. Get an idea of how dangerous it is to go in there, and when I get done, we’ll figure out if it is worth the effort to head into the temple and find the generator.

He takes a step closer to Yildiri and says I know you have some misgivings about that place. I’m not asking you to violate your peoples taboos, I just want to know how dangerous it is.

Parker turns his head so as to try and direct his words to the group without giving away too much to the woman waiting patiently

This woman is an android, a machine, much like our friend Marvin here. Her name stands for her function, Auto-function, Intermediary Medical Emergency Assistant - a simple sort of artificial life form programed to be of assistance to more qualified medical personnel. That she is still functioning is a mystery, and who she is talking about, this Red Mysterion, I have no clue who that is. Let's see if she knows anything useful to us.

Aimea, my name is Parker Anderson, and I was sent her on behalf of the people who originally owned and operated the Contagion, the ship. I'll come right to the point. I believe this ship is hiding a Black Globe Generator. Do you know if that is true, and where the generator is located? Because for a very long time no one has been able to verify the condition of this ship, and right now the United Consortium of Planetary Governments is sending a squadron of system defense boats and an eight hundred ton cruiser here to recover that generator, and when they come, your homesteaders and your Mysterion won't be able to stop them. I wan't to help you if I can. If we can identify the generator, establish its location, and negotiate its turnover to the IRS, I think we can avoid a whole lot of trouble here.

Parker fixes his eyes on Yildiri and asks her, quietly

What are they talking about?

I don’t think they are going to be swayed, Parker says, And I’ve never been any good at direct physical confrontations. It might be time to reconsider our plan, maybe look for another way in and hope we can avoid any run in with these people or anyone else who might be occupying the ship.

Parker shrugs, and looks around at everyone’s faces.

When Parker realizes that Yildiri suggest using fire to rout out the Uraduluns he shakes his head at her, and says to her

Bad idea. Let’s try not to set the thing on fire. I’m not sure we’d have any chance of putting a fire out inside the ship, once it got out of control.

Okay, so they are not the welcoming committee, or maybe they are. Does anyone know what it is they are shouting? Either we give up on this way in, or think of some way of getting passed them. I personally hate violent confrontations, but it wouldn’t be my first shoot out with gaurds trying to keep me out of a place I wanted in to.

While he speaks, the sound of Crossbows being drawn and loaded can be heard coming from inside the hold of the ship

Opps, I meant to say, not entirely uninhabited, slip of the tongue I guess. Anyway, get your weapons ready, looks like the front door is open. We’ll start there, and see what this ship is hiding

Parker draws a fat barreled pistol from the holster at his side, and walks slowly toward the bridge.

Well, my stalwart friend here is correct, Parker says as he claps Gwernach on the shoulder and smiles at the girl. His eyes travel up and down her more times than are necessary as he goes on to say. We are indeed headed toward that structure ahead he points to the wreck on the canyon floor.

We were sent here by people from the north, with a mission to uncover the mystery of this place. We don’t intend to do it any harm. We just want a quick look around on the inside, if we can get there. Do you know anything about it?

Parker shades his eyes from the sun, and as is his way, looks the stranger up and down slowly, in the most overly telling way, and lets out a long low whistle, then cups his hands together and shouts up to the wall face of the canyon

Thanks for the information, doll. We're not lost, and we aren't looking for game, water, or shelter, actually. What we need is to find out how close we can get to that structure ahead of us without being seen, if there are any people living in, or around it, and if they are hostile. If you would like to come down here I promise you we mean you no harm, but we are armed and can protect ourselves if you decide to change you mind about being friendly. What do you say? how about we get together so we don't have to raise our voices?

He lowers his hands, and says quietly to the group around him. Let's keep sharp. Gwernach was able to spot this one, but there might be others in hiding. We don't want to get caught in a trap before we even reach the ship

We’ll go ahead and get strapped in, Parker saysThe Nova will maneuver towards the drop zone and then we’ll be on our way. I imagine it will only take less than an hour to get where we need to be

Well, Gwernach, as I said, I expect to find something the IRS doesn’t want anyone to know about. Something that they most likely we not supposed to have. It would be a device that shields the ship from all sources of energy or matter that might try to damage the ship, even magic. If this is what is there it explains how the ship was able to land on the planet without breaking up or being crushed by the impact. I don’t want to give you any more details until we are in the ship, and committed to finding the truth, because if I’m right, we are all probably going to be thrown into a situation that none of us will be getting out of easily, not that we should be worried about our safety. I think we’ll be fine, as long as the device is properly contained, even if it isn’t still functioning.

The way I see it, the IRS themselves didn’t know exactly what was going on, on the Contagion. If my suspicions are correct, there are secrets that were kept at the highest levels of the IRS command, and now those secrets have been lost. They might have suspicions of their own, hell they might know more than they are telling me, but I kind have a pretty good feeling they don’t know half of what they would like to know. Trust me, if this ship was carrying what I think it was carrying, and if it is still contained properly, we’ll be able to track it down with the equipment the IRS has been willing to loan me. That alone was my first clue. They tried to put it off as just being cautious, but I don’t think so.

Oh, and orbit, well that’s hard to explain, but it basically means we are going to travel very high up in the sky, and then come back down again closer to where the wreck actually sits. On the way we will stop off at another ship, smaller, but in a lot of ways similar to the Contagion, and gather what we need from that ship before we go on.

Parker folds his arms across his chest, listening to Gwernach, Sasithorn, and then Marvin. He tries to answer each of them in turn, but before he does, he fixes his eyes on Sasithorn

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Sasithorn – Parker may or may not take an interest in Sasithorn’s behavior when he hears Parker’s story – Parker is using Sense Motive here to determine if he has a “Hunch” that Sasithorn might have some knowledge related to the story he just told

Well, I can tell you that anything we find within the wreck of the Contagion is going to old. Since we don’t even know the state of things on the ship, we don’t even know if it is still in one piece after four hundred years of being exposed to your world’s natural environment, I can’t tell you for sure that anything we find will even be functional at all. As to Marvin’s weapon, as I said before it did and did not come from the Contagion. Let me explain. That gun did not originate in this reality, this universe, what your wizards call “the prime material plane.” I’m sure that the Contagion had one or more androids like Marvin on board, but that gun would never have been found on it. If I had to guess, something very strange happened when the ship crashed, or maybe right before it crashed that opened a portal between this universe and another, and somehow that gun and its ammunition came through that portal, and then Marvin ended up in possession of it before he managed to escape the ship. I think you should unload the weapon, Marvin, clean it if you have the tolls to do that, and load one of your own cartridges, made from materials you know did not come from the Contagion. I have a pretty good feeling it will not fire as you expect, but a test is definitely called for before we set out. And then you might want to count your available ammunition. It might be that only what was originally found with that gun will work

Marvin has 9 cartridges that will work with his musket, his black powder is inert. But don’t fret much, we will overcome this little nuisance soon enough

Normally, and I mean this, when there is any chance of technology from a more advanced world ending up on a world where it doesn’t belong these agents of the IRS are quick to report the problem, but they don’t usually get directly involved

Parker winks when he says this, making no effort to hide his obvious sarcasm

Depending on the details a situation like that usually calls in the United Consortium of Planetary Governments and the Congress of Interstellar Trade. I can tell you more about these people later, if you are curious, but basically what you need to know is that when it comes to dealing with the agents of the IRS you can usually get out a sentence or two before they read you the rules and then try to tell you what you should and should not do. With the UCoGP and the CoIT you aren’t going to get that courtesy. These two groups take things under their responsibilities with deadly seriousness, deadly.

Having said all that, I’ll leave the rest up to the future. I don’t know what we’ll find, and even if we do find anything of value I doubt well get it out of the ship without drawing the ire of all three of these groups, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.

Parker then takes a small step toward Sasithorn and unfolds his arms

Sasithorn, right, that’s your name. I’ve never met anyone like you before in my visits to this world, but you don’t seem entirely altogether different from an Eysturlun, and I’ve met those kinds before. They often have trouble keeping their feelings under control. Something I said earlier made you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to keep whatever it is you are thinking to yourself, for now?

Well, that might be difficult. I'll be paid in credits, if we discover what the IRS needs to know, when my work here is done and I wont be able to pay you until then, but I've already been given an advance, so maybe I can do something with that. Turning my credits into goods or whatever serves as currency here might take time, and time is something we don't have a lot of, and that leaves me with limited options. I suppose I have no choice but to ask Paulina if there is anything she is keeping hidden here in this module that I can buy from her that you might take as a down payment, but I doubt it.

When Parker shrugs and turns to look at Paulina, she is looking away and blushing.

There is something, isn't there? Paulina, doll face, what are you hiding

This is worse than I thought. Marvin, it seems your weapon here did and did not come from the Contagion. It is clear you were able to get it out of there before you somehow escaped, but the fact is, it didn’t belong there anymore than you belong here, now. The IRS has identified this weapon as a classified extra-planner anomaly, a CEPA. There aren’t any other details. The good news is that that alone could explain why it works here on Hamth, the bad news is, well, the bad news is that this is going to draw a whole lot more attention than it already has. The IRS will automatically report this to both the CoIT and the UCPG, and I imagine we’ll have about three months before this world is put on lock down and quarantine like you wouldn’t believe. Furthermore it means you might run out of ammunition. How many rounds do you still have?

Parker hands the weapon back to Marvin and paces back and forth.

The first thing they will do is round up any and all authorized off-worlders and get them off the planet toot-suite. Then they’ll go after the unauthorized off-worlders, with a vengeance. We might have difficulty getting our answers before they arrive, before they begin the complete shut down and black lighting of this world.

Look, Xor, Gwernatch, Diarmal, Sasithorn, Marvin. I’ll be setting out for the Contagion in under an hour. I’ll take this raft to an orbiting space ship, resupply, and then drop back into this planet’s atmosphere closer to where the Contagion lies. The wreck is over four thousand miles from here, even if we could take the raft, its top speed wouldn’t get us there for forty hours or more, and I’m not wasting that amount of time. If you want to help me break into the Contagion, find out what is going on there, and then get out as fast as we can once we know what the situation is, you are welcome to join me. The trip might be a bit uncomfortable for you, might even make you sick the first time you experience weightlessness, but I could use your help. The IRS is promising me a large reward for this information, and I will be happy to share a small part of it with you, if you are willing. As Diarmal said, we don’t know that anyone before Marvin has ever walked away from that wreck.

As Marvin responds to Parker’s question and hands him the musket, one of Marvin’s traveling companions, the dwarf Gwernach leans on bow and asks a question of his own

An Ah suppose next ya'll be want'n us ta go find ya lost con-tae-jun ship, eh?

And then Diarmal mentions the danger involved.

Examining the musket, Parker is silent for a moment, and then as he is turning the weapon over and over again, his attention is drawn to something about the end of the butt of the musket. He rubs his hand across a dark spot on the wood, revealing a dull metallic plate no larger than a small coin. He shows the plate to Paulina and says,

Here, look, there is some kind of code here, or a language I don’t recognize. Take an image of this and run it through Diana right away. I want to know if this has any significance. I’ve never seen a weapon quite like this before, even in a museum.

He holds the end of the musket up as Paulina holds up the handle of her flail near the small metallic plate, and then she runs off back to the shelter.

Parker approaches Gwernach and Diarmal, while Sasithorn and Xor stand close by.

No, master dwarf, I don’t need your help in finding the Contagion. We know exactly where it is. And yes, master elf, there has not been a successful reconnaissance of that wreck in over four hundred years. But while Paulina is occupied for the moment, let me make something clear that otherwise she might take offense to, or worse, report to her superiors. You see I wasn’t hired, sent here to find the Contagion. The IRS knows it’s here and they have tried repeatedly to get to it. Hell I think an attempt was made just a few years ago. The IRS has a problem with that ship, a mysterious problem that they don’t want anyone to know about, am I intend to find out what secret they are trying to keep and why. They hired me to try and get into the ship and find out what has changed, why a android like Marvin here was able to get out, when nothing else has for a long time, but most importantly, they want it to be someone they aren’t responsible for, and for that, well, that got my curiosity. I don’t trust the IRS, I never have. I could tell you more about that if we have the time. What I will ask you to consider is joining me, for these reasons. You have all had some experience with some strange things related to how this equipment from the Contagion has been put to use. That might be useful. You are also, as I can plainly see, people who aren’t afraid of a bit of discomfort and have a knack for getting through complicated situations and I could use that kind of talent, that sort of help.

When Paulina introduces the man you thought was nearly six feet tall, he is looking toward the small creatures unloading things from the strange sled and as he hears his name and turns you suddenly notice that he is standing on a rather large box. When he steps down, and moves toward your group you now see that he is short for a human, certainly not a dwarf or a halfling, just, well, short.

He shakes each of your hands, if you are willing, and when he comes to Marvin, he stops.

I’m delighted to meet you all. I imagine what you are experiencing, have experienced in the past few days has seemed a bit out of the ordinary, even for folks accustomed to the vagaries of magic.

He circles around Marvin as he speaks

Just to put things out there straight, from the start, so you know me, and why I’m here, I want you all to know that like Agent Southmiller here I am not from your world, but as well as some of you might understand how things are summoned to this world with magic, I didn’t come here that way. I’m from another world that is very much like this one, only there is no magic, which in some ways sort of makes that world a bit dull, at least I always thought it was anyway. On the other hand, unlike Agent Southmiller I am not with the Interplanetary Relief Society.

The man stops right in the middle of what he is saying and changes the subject

I am simply amazed. You say you are called Marvin, and do you know what that stands for? See you, your kind, you don’t belong on this world. I think I’m safe in saying there are not many like you on this world. If there is even one more of your kind I’d be shocked. I’ve travelled to this world before, and when I did I wasn’t always following the rules that groups like the IRS, or CoIT, or even the UCGO have in place for allowing off worlders to visit a place like this. No, it’s mighty strange to see an android on a world like this, but I’m getting of the subject.

He takes a few steps away from Marvin and puts his hands behind his back.

It’s like this. Several hundred years ago, a ship, a hospital ship of the IRS came out of its calculated voyage unexpectedly, and in much too close of a position to this world. Now, I’ll explain what a hospital ship is later, but for now all I need you to understand is that this ship, is very large, as large as a small village actually, and when it appeared near your world it could not stop itself from crashing down out of the stars and onto the surface of your world.

When this occurred, it was, at first, a matter of concern for many different governments and agencies, but you should know that accidents like this are while uncommon, not altogether unexpected, they sometimes occur, and usually with terrible consequences for both the ship that crash lands and the poor unfortunate people they crash onto

Now the first thing that seemed particularly strange about this accident was that as soon as an investigation was begun into the results of the crash it was learned that the ship did not break apart, or disintegrate when it crashed onto your world. This surprised a lot people. The next thing that was discovered, well, I guess that’s the point I’m here to make. There was no next thing.

For almost a hundred years every attempt to access the wreck of this ship ended in a complete loss of the investigation team, no contact was ever had again with anyone who ever set foot near that wreck, and this led to a lot of strange and unsupported stories being told about the wreck of the ship. Some of those stories became popular, became books people read for entertainment, or to concoct wild conspiracy theories. No one knows the truth about that ship.

What people like Southmiller, and the people she works for did know, was that for almost four hundred years nothing came out of that wreck. Nobody was able to get in, and nothing, well, nothing dangerous got out.

And then you show up on a video report, Marvin, just as happy as a clam. Walk right into a common tavern on the shores of Ibalnd, four thousand miles from where that wreck lies, and I’ll bet dollars to donuts that if we can take a look at some of your part identification tags we’re going to find that you, at one time, were once on board that ship.

I’ve already identified everything else that was recovered from the ruins to the southwest of here. All of it can be traced to the Contagion. That’s the name of that ship I’m talking about. Four hundred or so years ago, the Hospital Ship Contagion, registry number IRS-HS-2109, crash landed, intact, on this world, and I was paid by the IRS to find out why it’s taken so long for something like Marvin to show up.

But the gun, now that doesn’t fit at all. There are no black powder weapons on this world, and conventional gunpowder doesn’t work on this world. Marvin would you mind if I take a closer look at your weapon?

Parker holds out his right hand hoping Marvin will hand him the weapon.

Parker looked over this dame, up and down. She was good looking, enthusiastic, smart, had to be to be an agent after all, and she had green eyes.

It was always the green eyed ones that did him in. Every time.

meanwhile…

The aircar hovered above the coordinates for a few moments. The entry into the planet’s atmosphere had been smooth, uneventful, but took, in Parker’s opinion, longer than it should have. The pilot of the aircar, a small, heavyset fellow whose nametag identified him as Raul, was cheerful and talkative, skilled to be sure, and had explained to Parker, more than once on the way down, that the extra time taken was necessary so as to be sure not to draw attention from anyone on the planet, which necessitated a long approach from the southern pole of the planet and across the southern ocean.

”so, eh, you’ve been here before?” Raul had asked as they came within site of the landing zone.

”Sure,” parker answered

”I hear it’s a pretty weird, eh, place. All sorts of refugees here, they say.”

”I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Parker said

”You, eh, you are one of them scouts, right, you an IRS man, ain’t you?”

Parker shifted in his seat, and felt the hard buckle of the antigravity restraint pull hard against his shoulder. He kept one hand, his right hand, his good hand, on the bag near his feet. The tall bag contained very few items, almost none of the items he’d asked for, but still, what was in the bag was probably more valuable to the IRS than he was.

”No,” parker said at last, watching the pilots face in the view screen in front of him. ”I’m an independent agent. I don’t intend to do much here other than collect some information, and then I’ll be on my way.”

The pilot’s face revealed his doubts, it was in his smile, his knowing wink as he said, ”right, eh, whatever you say pal. Look there’s the place where the module is supposed to be. Let me swing over to the east and set it down on that hill. Look, there’s your contact now.”

The pilot manipulated an exterior viewcam and brought up an image of a thirty ton habitat module, poorly disguised by some fake vegetation to look like a simple hut. And standing near the module was a woman, an attractive woman with black hair, streaked with white, wearing a standard issue monosuit. She wasn’t tall, and she looked fit. Parker’s thoughts as the camera zoomed in on this woman were as simple as he normally was.

This woman was built just the way he liked them, compact, strong, round in all the right places.

As the aircar landed, the entry shields on the top sides retracted, revealing to interior of the car, the pilot, and Parker Anderson.

The short, attractive woman hustled to the car, extended a hand to help Parker as he climbed out of the rig, and as he reached for his she turned him around with a gentle pull on his elbow.

Meanwhile, aboard the Annic Nova, about a week before the death of the Strangler of the Shadow Moor…

The ship, the Annic Nova, was odd in a lot of ways. First, it seemed to be constructed from a mixture of materials old and new, strange and common, exotic and, well, absurd. The floor of his stateroom was made of hard wood.

Hardwood

Parker had stayed in old buildings, and certainly his time on Hamth had introduced him to floors made of wood, stone, and even dirt. But a hardwood floor, on a starship? It was ridiculous.

But then again, it was sort of a comfort, and warm on his bare feet, and it even smelled nice.

The stateroom he was given was not large, but wasn’t cramped either. He had a good sized bed, and a desk with a comfortable chair, and surprisingly enough, a private fresher chamber. The shower even had four settings and good water pressure. All in all, it wasn’t half bad.

His first week on the Annic Nova went buy faster than he realized. He never had a chance to load the brief from the drive in the satchel Dwyer had given him, and instead spent the week getting to know the crew and the layout of the ship.

During his second week, Parker played games with the crew, lost six hundred credits, and established an intimate relationship with Greta, the Carolidian Steward. It wasn’t until his third week aboard that he managed to set aside time to review the brief.

Parker was relieved that it wasn’t too technical. He was not relieved to read about the Contagion.

The Contagion, a four thousand ton hospital ship, now crashed on Hamth, seemed to be the source of the current situation. The cover up, or what was called in the brief, “The ‘Gion Conspiracy,” read like the worst parts of a political spy novel, written by a disgruntled bureaucrat.

Six attempts to examine the crash site all ended in unsolved mysteries. A total of fifty three operatives of the IRS, the CoIT, and the UCPG had disappeared trying to establish the exact situation of the wrecked vessel. All that Parker could puzzle out for certain, easily unraveled though many of the more exact details in the report were heavily redacted, was that the vessel was somehow, mostly, intact, suffered only minor damage in the grounding on the planet’s surface, and was not impossible to get to, though it was deep at the bottom of the deepest gorge on the planet’s surface, in a part of the world known to the locals as the Kijtan Wastelands.

But how does a four thousand ton displacement starship safely land on a class three world?

Simple, there is only one possible explanation.

It had to be carrying a globe. A Black Glob Generator, which would account for the miscalculated slide in the Aetherspace, and the ability for the vessel to descend through the atmosphere and park on planet side, with hardly a scratch.

But why would a hospital ship be carrying a piece of military hardware?

That was the sort of question Parker didn’t even like hearing in his own head, let alone wonder out loud.

The United Consortium of Planetary Governments, the UCGP, would be the only people in possession, legally, of one of the mysterious part magical, part technological wonders known around the universe as a Black Globe Generator, but a hospital ship would be under the flag of the IRS. It didn’t add up. Something was not right.

It would be another week of digging through the brief until Parker was close to understanding the delicacy of the situation unfolding on Hamth.
Well, two weeks, actually, after the Annic Nova made port at Rail Point Station, and after a week of shore leave with Greta, Parker needed a little down time of his own. It isn’t easy recovering from strained hamstrings.

Meanwhile, on Lighthouse some 26 parsecs away

Parker knew that someday he’d go back to Hamth, but it never, in his wildest nightmares, ever occurred to him that he would be going their legally, and as an agent of the IRS.

The last time he was there, things had gotten, well, complicated is probably the nicest way to say it. He left a few things unresolved, a few people angry with him, and a few bodies in closets he hoped no one had opened.

Hamth was a dangerous place. In the star systems he knew of, Parker was aware of only two other worlds that had the kind of magic that worked like it did on Hamth, those worlds were Golarion and Riom, and after a couple of trips to Hamth, Parker knew he wanted no part of those other worlds no matter how promising the cash income might be.

So now he was waiting at the star port of Lighthouse for an agent of the IRS to show up with his tickets, and whatever files he needed to study before the long journey back to the world where magic was the rule, and technology an ugly step sister.

“Mister Andersen, I presume,” a short man in a blue suit approached him carrying a weathered, almost antique looking satchel.

“Yeah, I’m Parker Andersen, you must be Dwyer. You with the IRS?”

“No sir, I mean yes sir,” the little man said with a smile. “I mean yes sir, I am Paul Dwyer, but I’m not with the IRS. I’m with a special organization. We prefer to keep a very low profile. The IRS has contacted us to help you get to Hamth. I have a few things her for you.”

“You’ve got my tickets I hope,” Parker said as the little man handed him the satchel. It was surprisingly light. “And I really expect them to be first class. No sleeper tube for me. If I’m going to spend two months in transit, it’s going to be in style.”

“About that, yes, Mister Anderson, the accommodations will be acceptable to you, I’m sure, but I’m sorry to say they won’t be as a first class passenger aboard a regular star liner.”

“Two months is a long time to spend aboard a junk, Dwyer. You’re not seriously thinking of sending me on an IRS mail carrier I hope. In fact, if we have to make more than two jumps, that’s even better. I’d enjoy the down time at a class a star port for a change. By the way, how will I be updated on the status of this situation once I arrive?”

Dwyer smiled.

“Well, I imagine everything will be pretty much as it is in the brief in your bag, you can read it on the way, and take some time getting familiar with the local customs.”

“Dwyer,” Parker said as he pointed back and forth between the man and himself several times, “I don’t think we’re on the same page. Somebody’s watching this world, a few IRS agents I’m told, and I’ll want to know what has changed when I get there.”

“Nothing will have changed from,” Dwyer looked at the chronometer on his wrist, “approximately twenty two hours from now.”

“Twenty two hours from…what are you saying Dwyer?”

“Mister Andersen, the IRS has asked us to supply you with transportation to the outer system zone of the planet Hamth by means of the Annic Nova, and it should be arriving momentarily. We’ll get you settled down in one of the better staterooms of the Nova, but please understand it is a small ship.”

Parker wasn’t often stunned. He was stunned now.

“Did you say the Annic Nova?”

“Yes sir, the Annic Nova.”

“The Annic Nova is a myth, a ghost ship, a fairy tale. Are you telling me it is a real thing?”

“Yes sir. The Annic Nova is a Class “Z” registered eight hundred ton vessel belonging to our organization and kept in service by an agreement between fourteen interstellar governments.”

“The ship that travels through time?”

“Something like that, yes Mister Andersen. You’ll depart in the next few hours and spend one week traveling to a secure jump location, then sixteen days in the AEther, to reach Rail Point Station. You’ll take on supplies, and make another jump to Hamth’s system, that should take about two weeks, and then a final short-jump to within shuttle distance of the world. The trip should take about eight weeks.”

Parker tipped his head to the side and asked, “So When do I reach Hamth?”

“You already have, sir. In fact, in about six hours you should be landing on the planet. It takes a little getting used to, and it can be unsettling, the first time, but there will be plenty of time and several records you can review while in transit that will help you adjust to the temporal dislocation.”

Dwyer’s wrist chronograph chimed.

“Ah, that would be the signal. The Nova has arrived. We’ll board a shuttle and be there in a few hours. Oh, and Mister Andersen, I don’t suppose I need to remind you that this entire trip, never, happened.”

“Whatever you say, Dwyer, whatever you say.”

Meanwhile on another world, 26 parsecs away

“The name is Parker, Ma’am, Parker Andersen,” The short man in the long, dark coat said as he extended his hand. “I was told you needed someone with my skills. I’m not often ready to take a job for the IRS, but this fellow that works for you, Sandin, was his name, seemed awfully serious, and mentioned a large figure, six figures, in fact. So, what’s the story?”

Her name, Margaret Band, was printed in bold letters on the badge she wore hanging on a lanyard around her neck. She was a tall, Elven woman, with sharp features, a set of dark green eyes, and blond hair pushed back behind long slender ears. She smiled, and Parker liked her smile, he liked her look, he liked her shape, and maybe, when the deal was worked out, he’d ask he if he could buy her a drink, but as she was a ranking officer in the Interplanetary Relief Society, he didn’t get his hopes up.

“Mister Andersen,” She said, as she opened a sealed memory carrier on her desk, “We have received a transmission form a field operative, a scout living among locals on a protected planet in the Candle District. According to my sources, you’ve visited this world on more than one occasion, twice without proper licensing or permits, and in both those cases you somehow managed to get a suspended judgment. Now I see here,” she said looking at a holo-sythidoc on her desk, “that in both of these examinations, the examiner was later involved in a romantic situation with you, one of these women ended up leaving her post to follow you to the next system, where you set her up as an imports and exports credit conversion auditor for Express Services Limited, a company you are a partner with, is this correct?”

Parker did not take offense to the accusations. She had it pretty much dead to rights. He looked her straight into the top pair of her four eyes, and faked it.

“Now, that’s far enough, Missus Band. Did I come here to be arrested? Are you holding a class nine warrant, because if you aren’t you can just,” he said tightening the muscles in his neck.

“No, sir, not at all, although,” she purred, “I should tell you that as a Captain in the IRS, I don’t need a class nine warrant to hold you, sir. I can have you detained for up to ninety standard terran days, simply to watch your hair grow. But I have no intention of arresting you, and it’s Misses Band. I’m not married.”

Parker grinned. It was one of his best moves. He removed his fedora, an ancient garment, a hat they called them. Something he purchased twenty years ago from a vintage collector travelling through Lighthouse when Parker was still working as a beat cop, patrolling the lab districts.

“I need you help Mister Andersen,” She went on, and then opened the memory carrier. She took the small cylinder and placed it on the reader on the corner of her desk. A Thermo-vid image began to play above the reader. It showed what looked to Parker to be a regular pub, or perhaps a tavern, the interior, a few patrons sitting at tables minding their own business. Then, sure as space is cold, into this old world style pub walks a centuries old Class II M.A.R.V.I.N. unit, carrying what looked to Parker like a very old black powder rifle.

The M.A.R.V.I.N. unit spoke to the barman, and then took up a conversation with what appeared to be a local. The translators of the Memory cylinder were working slowly, and the words these people were saying were being slowly displayed, with some minor errors of syntax, across the bottom of the scene.

“So,” Parker leaned back and folded his arms, “You telling me that a class II android, from what, two maybe three hundred years ago, is active on this protected planet, and I’m guessing it’s not one of yours and you want me to find out how it got there. Is that it?”

“No, Mister Andersen, we pretty much know how it got there. Are you familiar with the crash of the Hospital Ship Contagion?”

“Sure, I’ve read the novelization. I’ve seen all the movies they made about that, but didn’t it crash on Hamth? Wait, are you saying the world in the Candle System you want me to go back to is Hamth, and you want me to go there, why exactly? To shut this thing down? Any one of your cadets could pull that off. Why do you need me?”

“If you are familiar with Hamth, Mister Andersen, then you know that black powder weapons do not function on that world, something about a powerful wish tied to a source of magic that is the reason for this world's protected status, but our agent has filled this report, and confirmed that this weapon does not come from the wreckage of the Contagion. If it functions, as we suspect it does, and it would be consistent with three other reports recently filled from this world, then something has changed. Something very serious has changed on the world of Hamth. And we want to know what that is. We have nineteen field agents living on Hamth, but no one with your experience and contacts. Currently, where this report was filled, there is some kind of local disturbance taking place, one we, naturally will not get involved in, but it could be the perfect cover for you. I’d like you to take this job. I’m prepared to offer you four hundred thousand now and another four hundred thousand if you find the source of this change in the world’s normal patterns. I have a contract, and because I was feeling particularly confident you’d say yes, I took the liberty of having Miss Shelly Danvers review it for you. I’m sure you trust her expertise.” She handed Parker the contract.

“Shelly, you say,” he laughed. “Boy I miss her, she was something special. I really need to get back around to that system someday.”

“That’s what she said.”