Counterweight by A. G. Claymore Page A

generate local pocket currency and he’d
want to keep folks from finding out. What better way than to declare it as
water.
    Technically, water was in permanent shortage but it was an
artificial shortage – the city was sitting under several kilometers of it,
after all. Still, if it was declared as water, it meant official involvement.
    Cal reckoned that direct involvement went no farther up the
chain than a customs official or two. A lot of ‘water’ got imported into the
city every day but the company turned a blind eye, as long as the bribes
flowed. G’Maj was paying an inspector, who then gave his own supervisor a
share. That supervisor, in turn, paid a percent of his take to his manager and
so, up the chain it went.
    The unofficial system was so old, it wasn’t even considered
illegal. It also had the benefit of allowing certain archaic laws to be
circumvented without engaging the infamously costly re-legislation process. The
old saying went that money flowed into Xo’Khov and fed the Consul’s pet black
hole.
    “Give an Ufangian a credit and he’ll make two more by day’s
end,” Cal muttered the old adage as he mentally scrolled the data. “Give a
credit to a Dactari and he’ll melt it down to sell for scrap, and then ask you
for another credit so he can ship it to a recycler.”
    Since the first Consul had replaced the Triumvirs fifteen
decades ago, accountability had gone to the scuttlers. The Triumvirs had at
least kept each other in check to some degree. The Consuls ruled without
interference and so the great gears of Republic administration had grown
increasingly dirty.
    Small wonder there was so much undeclared cargo shifting
around between the worlds.
    Cal frowned. He closed the current file and went back to the
expense account. G’Maj always bought the same amount of reactant every time he
returned to Chaco Benthic. It was always the same amount, right down the the
last tenth of a grain.
    It was a simple matter for Cal to have his cranial processor
crunch the numbers. He had everything he needed to calculate the radius
represented by the reactant purchases. The specs on the Foxlight II were
right there in the files and their engine performance was clearly stated in the
sales brochure G’Maj had received from off world.
    Cal projected a three-dimensional chart on his retinas and
overlaid a sphere with the calculated radius. Only three worlds came anywhere
close to the surface of the sphere. One was a carbon giant and he removed it
from the projection. The next two seemed like good candidates. Both were
G-class worlds.
    The G class, or Goldilocks class of worlds were the ones
that orbited their stars at just the right distance for liquid water to exist.
Of the two G-class worlds, one sat just inside the sphere, and the other just
beyond it.
    Cal figured the smuggler wouldn’t take any risks on running
out of fuel so the closer world was the most likely candidate. Both were
outside of Republic control but he figured he could wait for G’Maj to return
before attempting to contact the Alliance.
    He toyed with the idea of sneaking aboard the Foxlight II when it returned but the crew would almost certainly purge the nav computer
before the customs officials came aboard.
    He figured the best course of action would be a chance
meeting with G’Maj at one of the smuggler’s regular watering holes. Just two
Tauhentan expats reminiscing about a world that neither had set foot on. Once
Cal got him talking, he should be able to pick up enough data to confirm his
analysis.
    He was hoping it would turn out to be planet 3428. If the
Alliance decided to garrison that world, it would give them a strong position
on the Dactari flank and it meant a greater enemy force would have to be
stationed here, drawing off enemy troops from the core worlds. If they timed it
right, he could start an insurrection here while Alliance forces took 3428.
    The Dactari Consul ruling the Republic was also the titular
head of the