TJ & Morg
Chapter 31

Copyright© 2009 by Green Dragon

"Sir Jonathon, what can your Sovereign do for her senior Herald?"

"Majesty. I have received a message from Lady Alexandria..."

"On that com system I'm not supposed to know about?"

"Ma'am, one day you are going to wake to find that nosy Chamberlain with his throat torn out."

"He is my loyal servant, as you are" Elizabeth chided her Herald "and he, as you so delicately described it, only blabs to me."

"Yes, Ma'am, but he doesn't get access to it and I'm not confirming its existence either. Be this as it may. Gorgipest King at Arms has laid a problem in my lap of almost frightening proportions and she declares a conflict of interest..."

"Morg Windsor?" and when the Herald nodded "I have not been able to undo the damage done to them. Yet. So, my Herald, what is the problem?"

"It appears, Ma'am, ahh ... they have over five thousand tonnes of gold and also of platinum to sell ... Before I came over I did a bit of research — that is ten years' usage of gold and about thirty years of platinum for the whole kingdom. And, no, we don't have enough funds in treasury to purchase all of it."

"Jonathon, there is not that much precious metal in the universe!"

"Further research, Ma'am. This by the way involves Old Earth's Iberian Peninsula ... again. I researched the 'net for treasure ships and found two major threads. The first in our time details rumours of treasure ships from the outer galactic worlds to somewhere on Old Earth and because of history, the old Spanish and Portuguese provinces are said to be implicated. The second thread is the return of wealth from the Americas in wet navy sailing days — a millennium before the Diaspora. Apparently between one and three treasure ships sailed, annually, from different ports in the Americas with gold — platinum at that time was not a precious metal. Whilst there is no public record of the treasure unloaded in Iberia, there is record of some of those treasure ships taken by what is now the Enkland Royal Navy. The captain's share of the prize money is recorded and making allowance for value of currency then and now, the prizes went for over sixty million pounds sterling. This raises two other points. The price of gold was fixed for most of that time and did not fluctuate with the 'market' and so I can't factor that into the calculations; secondly the prizes represent only at a maximum one year's production from a small part of a planet of Old Earth. These weights, five thousand tonnes, are said to be the production of a planetary system over a ten year period — and are therefore believable. But that doesn't prove the metal exists."

"Whew! You do know how to surprise a person! ... Whatever would we do with it?"

"That one is easy. If it exists, leave the stuff in our vaults. It would mean we'd never be at the mercy of those sharks on the Metals Bourse again. When they try to gouge us, we draw on our reserves, and when the price drops we replace our usage. We could hold the price of our usage to our terms over the next couple of centuries. The weight is only a sixth of the gold holdings of most of the Old Earth confederations — ahh, that is those which are known."

"But if there has been a treasure ship every decade where is all the rest of it?"

"The semi-official story that comes with this — from Sir William Oscar — indicated that metal is held in private hands."

"Two points, Sir Jonathon. Firstly what are the owners likely to do and secondly the chances of the specie being seized by main force?"

"The owners of record are an organisation registered as a company in Gorgipest and Bhute as "The Tulip Corporation"; the shareholders are basically the discharged crew of HMS "Tulip" less two of the originals who chose to remain in Settlement whilst the others relocated to Gorgipest. The Admiralty Court condemned the vessel as a prize captured by HMS "Tulip" eventually selling her at scrap metal prices. Here I might mention that the purchasers stated to the Admiralty Court that the vessel was a commercial proposition, having traversed the galaxy and they intended to attempt to restore her to that role; because of fears about the power plant our Environment Department had placed restrictions on her and the Court took those into consideration. The Tulip Corporation took a gamble and it paid off as the vessel spaces under its own power. The inference that it was a treasure ship was noted and diligent search was made..."

"Apparently not diligent enough!" Elizabeth snorted.

" ... The owners are The Tulip Corporation and they are the ones offering the metal. In any event, the prize crew would have received the distributions anyway. Whoever owned her before her condemnation has kept very quiet; probably because if they were to become known, their Governments would have embarrassing questions about previous income and unpaid taxes with penalties.

The second point. The ship is now armed and crewed by ex RMN spacers all of whom have Royal Marine grade armoured suits. It would require a small warship to take her but I don't think that would happen. On the voyage back from New Liege, HMS "Tulip" evaded an active search by five Harbourian destroyers — we heard them 'pinging' I think its called — but Commander Hobson spaced "Tulip" out without being challenged. That same crew is now on the treasure ship.

Any attempt on our part to seize the metal would be a secret for about ten seconds and no nation in the galaxy would ever fully trust us again."

"Those two who left the crew, were they in the prize crew?"

"Yes, Majesty. But they separated from the others before the prize was condemned and there is bad blood there without knowing the full story. Legally, they are out of this transaction. They received the distribution for the purchase of the gunship into the Custom's service and the value placed upon the prize as scrap by the Court."

"A bit hard on them."

Winsor Principal King At Arms, who knew more than he had indicated, shrugged his shoulders.

"How are we going to organise this?"

"A conference, I think. You agree we purchase the metal? I'll pass a message to Lady Alex. Apropos of nothing, the inventors of the nonexistent com system are TJ Hobson, George "Morg" Windsor, and Ivy Sorenson so I suspect they will hear it before Lady Alex does. The Governor of the Reserve will have to be involved..."

A month or so after that conversation, Major Rupert Logan was waiting at Pad 3 once again. He was developing a distinct aversion to the site as it seemed to be associated with 'special duties' which he loathed — he wanted to remain strictly a soldier seconded to bodyguard duties and he regarded anything else as a distraction from his primary duty. He watched as the armed pinnace — and the fact it was armed and allowed onto the Palace pad rankled deeply — landed and shut down. He grudgingly admitted to himself that the pinnace had been well handled. Several men alighted; they were dressed in well tailored black uniforms of a material which held its line and contour well. Nattily dressed, he admitted.

"TJ, Morg, good morning" he greeted them but eyed the heavy briefcases with suspicion. "I've been ordered not to examine the 'cases but I want your word they wouldn't upset me if I knew what is in them."

"Our word. Congratulations on the promotion, Sir."

"Thank you. I am sorry to see you are civilians still."

"We haven't been invited back" TJ explained, "so we decided to start our own line and see the universe. We were fortunate to earn a bit of prizemoney before we went to New Liege and it came through when we returned to Gorgipest. We actually purchased and refitted the freighter we recaptured. She handles well and the engines are revolutionary. You'll have to come up for a visit while we are here."

"Thank you for the offer but I don't think my duties will allow it."

(He was never so wrong.)

While talking, the party had walked to the side entry to the Royal Offices where they were met by Sir Jonathon Bruges and Austen Neville who relieved them of the 'cases (to Logan's relief).

In the conference room, Logan was surprised to find his Commanding Officer,

"I have as much idea what this is about as you do, Logan" Colonel Mulcahy said.

Major Logan recognised the official in the Chair — Earl Golden Fleece, Governor of the Reserve Bank.

"Gentlemen, be seated. Her Majesty has delegated to me the task of organising the transfer of metal from ship to the Bank's Bullion Repository. I am Herbert Fellowes, Earl Golden Fleece and my official position is Governor of the Reserve Bank. I am also the Comptroller of the Sovereign's Monies. Mr Hobson and Mr Windsor, I am to liaise with you about the transfer. Major Logan, you and a platoon of PGS are to provide site security on their ship; Colonel Mulcahy you are to provide extra security at the Bullion Repository in the High Country.

The Navy has been tasked with port security and I have to inform them of the area they are to establish as an exclusion zone.

The Royal Marines are to provide eight heavy lift assault shuttles with crew and to provide a rifle battalion as the labourers. Space should cause no problems — no gravity no weight — but we will require a Marine Engineers logistic company machinery to handle the metal on the ground. What details can you give me about the metal, Mr Hobson?"

"Your Grace, they are in three cubic metre billets. Five metres by three metres by twenty centimetres thick means they will curve under their own weight if held by one point only, weight sixty tonnes in round figures. We can get them out of our airlocks with careful handling but they are a tight squeeze."

"Good. Size is not a problem at the Repository and we can weigh to the troy ounce in bulk. Our lab will assay the metal as it arrives."

"Our assays indicate 99.9%, Your Grace but we were only able to sample two billets."

"Four billets a shuttle, six or so sorties each shuttle. How many shuttles can you load at a time?"

"All eight. There are the two after decks, gold is on lower and platinum is on middle; each deck has two after airlocks a side. The billets are ready to be loaded; they are located in the middle of the after spaces on those decks To make it easier we can move into stationary orbit over the Repository to save you time."

"I'm sure we can establish an exclusion zone to cover. When would it be convenient to begin unloading?"

"We can be in position at First Nautical Twilight tomorrow; that's zero three twenty five hours local. We'll have the airlocks open and dogged and no gravity or atmosphere in the spaces. The airlocks on middle level to the accommodation block and the engine spaces will be sealed. You will have to provide your own supplies but in armoured suits that should be no problem for the Marines. We'll have to trust you on the exact weight as we wont be able to provide observers..."

A polite cough sounded, and Sir Jonathon said evenly

"Her Majesty has charged the Herald's Office with ensuring the accuracy of the measure."

"Then gentlemen, The Tulip Corporation has no problem. The 'cases contain some samples of the metal. Price is that at close of business yesterday for the metal on the Bourse. Funds to cover the purchase are to be remitted in three annual tranches to the Suisse account detailed in the documents in the 'case. The purchase documentation is to be sent by the Heralds to LUST in Gorgipest. The ship departs for Old Earth as soon as we are unloaded. Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure doing business with you. Major, will you see us out to the pinnace?"

Overnight, 1st Batdiv, and the 12th DD Flotilla moved from Home Fleet to take up positions enforcing a no-fly zone over the High Country. There was great consternation and recriminations in the Navy higher ranks when a freighter materialised in their midst and announced its readiness to unload. Sir Jonathon, who was in the Marine ground control unit at the time, smiled to himself as he listened to the Marine controllers' ribald comments about the Navy's inability to find its own rear end using both hands, a map and a portable illuminator.

"Marine ground, this is Tulip Corporation, we are ready to receive the work parties, over."

"Tulip, ground, on their way now, out to you. Marine Bulldog six, you are clear to go visual to the ship above. Acknowledge."

"Ground, Bulldog six, we have her visual, departing now."

The dawn light was blasted open as the thrusters of eight heavy assault shuttles fired and leapt into the star's light heading for the freighter.

Rupert Logan jetted into the middle deck to be met by Morg.

"Morning Major, I thought you said you'd be too busy to visit."

"Smartarse. Suits, where's the loot, the sooner it is loaded, the sooner I can go back to normal duties."

"Major, I didn't think there was any routine for the PGS. That off white stuff over there aft of our 'shop machinery, you can't mistake it."

"Morg, you might have a point about the duties but you are still a smartarse. Sergeant, get the sections in and spread, then let the 'leathernecks' in."

Figures in grey armour with weapons jetted through the open airlocks and then four assault shuttles backed up to the openings and figures in chameleon armour poured in to form up in platoons. The shuttles were tied to the ship using the lock clips. Ropes were strung and the platoons were moved to the slabs; each picked up one and moved it to the interior of a shuttle using the ropes for traction. The shuttles crew chiefs secured each slab and the process repeated until four slabs were loaded. The crew chiefs untied the ropes to the shuttle, the ramps were raised and the shuttles departed.

"Morg" TJ's voice came up on the private link established prior to the arrivals, "first load away and you can just see the difference in the playpen."

"I can't see any difference up here. Keep time, TJ, so we can give Charles an estimate. He is still a bit shaken at the way we slipped in. The story, by the way, is that we moved into position before the perimeter was set up."

"Navy wont believe that — they spaced over the whole area overnight."

"Yeh, but it'll confuse them a bit more."

"Not sure about that. Charles says Navy wants to send over a delegation from the flagship after we unload. He says they are getting insistent about it."

"Charles and Clare can work that one ou ... ouch, bet that hurt."

"Morg?"

"A marine was picking at a slab and a PGS bounced his rifle butt off the helmet — rang his chimes I'd say."

The round trip was averaging thirty two minutes so the estimate was a touch over nine hours to unload and clear the working parties.

 
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