Junker's Moon: Pirate Gold Read online

  Chapter 3: Failed Colony, New Opportunity

  Marshall had learned his trade at his mother's elbow and, when he was old enough, under the tutelage of his father who had also insisted on formal study. Out of his own curiosity, Marshall had delved into the short but eventful history of the Cymbeline colony. Initial surveys of Cymbeline had confirmed the results of long range scans, by sending what was known as a tube ship. This was a craft of very small cross-section, capable of fitting within the confines of a narrow exploratory hyperspace pipe and carrying only two people. Pipes were constructed using an unmanned lead ship, which generated a small volume of hyperspace in front of it, and was capable of stabilising the pipe behind it, so that it had a way to return.

  Colonisation had been so well established by that time that there were advanced courses for pioneers and fully equipped ships could be purchased complete and ready to go. Cheaper options included hire ships which dropped off pioneers and returned with manufactured goods or minerals. The cheapest option of all was for disposable ships of the flimsiest construction. It was always a gamble as to whether the ship would arrive intact, run out of fuel, or develop a fault before completing the journey but for those with restricted funds, it was their only resort. Any disposable ships which made it to their destination were left in orbit, after the occupants had transferred down to the planet surface. Salvaging the disposable ships was a space junker's dream come true.

  Unfortunately, further surveys revealed that both Cymbeline and its moon lacked high value mineral deposits. That in itself wasn't a drawback because there was enough iron, aluminium and copper ore to provide all the structural metal which would be required. As a relatively young planet, there were also not the deposits of fossil fuels found on older planets. Another disadvantage was that there was nothing amongst the indigenous life that had advanced to the point where it was big enough to hunt, kill and eat. The only upside was that there were no plants or creatures which had advanced sufficiently to be poisonous.

  The final straw was that in the absence of precious metals or stones to lure traders, the colony was simply inconvenient; it was just too remote. After an initial rush of would-be colonists, Cymbeline was gradually abandoned by all except a few farmers who were able to content themselves with a completely rustic lifestyle. As a result, the real estate value plummeted. Marshall's grandfather, Silas, had seen an opportunity and he immediately set about building up a viable scrap business.

  Several ships had already arrived at Cymbeline and been abandoned there, hanging in decaying orbits, their owners being unable to pay berthing charges on the planet. These ships Marshall's grandparents bought as junk and towed to the moon, which then was given its name. Other ships were abandoned because for one reason or another they had broken down too far from home for economic recovery. Marshall's grandfather had rightly supposed that when the colony was finally deserted, there would be no shortage of salvage and scrap. He had observed that junk seemed to accumulate at the far ends of space lanes, probably because they were a convenient place to dump unwanted ships out of the way.

  When Marshall's grandfather arrived there, at first he set up his business on the moon as a squatter because there was no-one there to stop him. Within a year he was able to acquire actual land rights in return for removing space junk, including the disposable ships, from dangerous orbits. He began by building domes from local glassy deposits and scrap sections cut from the space junk. At that time, when several thousand colonists were still clinging to the hope of making a life on Cymbeline, land rights for the planet itself were more expensive but as the colonists gave up a pair or a family at a time, the value fell to a point where he could afford to buy up Cymbeline's only landing field out of the proceeds of his business. That had provided a small amount of rental income.

  After a year or two Silas' savings had grown, and the moon was felt to be too arduous a spot to maintain a base, when an isolated incident proved to be the last straw. One of the workshops in the domes was holed in a shoot-out over the disputed ownership of a salvaged space-ship. It was only the stability of the airlocks which Silas had insisted on fitting, using bulkheads retrieved from old ships, that they were not all sucked out into space. He was also able to repel the aggressors, using weaponry in the decommissioned FBIS craft over which the argument had begun in the first place.

  Silas knew from the initial survey data that the planet provided large areas of land with a most agreeable climate, and seas which were warm. Indigenous life was at a very early stage of evolution, and so not irksome to settlers. It didn't take long to encourage the few settler families which had remained that it was possible to flourish without too much effort, in supplying food to the junker community. When Marshall's grandfather had moved down to the planet's surface and left behind the shattered domes, he retained the name Junker's Moon for the business he ran from Cymbeline. Occasionally, if low gravity work was essential, or if rare parts were needed, a ship would dock at the old station on the moon. The rest of the ships landed under conventional means on the planet surface, unless they were complete scrappers.

  The junk yard on the moon mainly contained ships which had simply worn out, ships which were out-moded or out of date, ships which suffered asteroid hits, battle-scarred warships, disposable 'one-shot' ships, and insurance write-offs. All but the most recent ones were acquired one way or another by Marshall's grandfather.

  Down on the planet, the business expanded until it became the Junker's Moon Scrap, Salvage and Servicing Company. Its reputation spread amongst the lower classes of shipping, such that Cymbeline and its captive, Junker's Moon, soon became a quiet, backwater sort of place where liners could acquire an inexpensive makeover, or where small ships could be kept running a while longer on repairs effected at compassionate prices. Without any greediness for excessive profits, the junkers, ship-fitters and farmers made a satisfactory living. Captains of elderly and ailing ships also stopped by for servicing because the scrap yard was a source of parts and one of the hotels was quiet and clean, the other providing more exotic entertainments. Old Silas was happy with what he had begun.

  Some visitors heard that there may be ghosts lingering amongst the wrecks, especially where a ship had been salvaged from an accident or a meteor strike. For a short time there was a steady trickle of tourists claiming to be sensitives, or paranormal investigators. Silas had not found any evidence himself of supernatural goings-on but neither did he do anything to discourage other people from thinking that there might be. It was known only to family members that he was the one who had in fact started the rumours in the first place.

  When the business was passed on, first to Silus son, David, then to grandson Marshall, so did the traditions of good workmanship at a fair price which had been established by the first owner of Junker's Moon.