CHAPTER THREE: The Long Distance Call

Charlie Van Breughel looked even fatter on the live com screen than in his ISSP file photo. His skin stretched tight as a balloon over his forehead, and sagged below his cheekbones. Light freckles dotted his nose and cheeks.

Squinting into the receiver, he sucked in his drooping jowls, chewing silently on the inside of one cheek.

“ISSP, huh. What’s with that rustbucket you’re flying? Undercover?” He squinted harder, as if that would help clarify Jet’s face on the monitor.

Jet bristled. “Hunk of –!! Look, not ISSP, I’m ex-ISSP. My crew and I are bounty hunters. We’re on the trail of a diamond thief, and we think he may have lifted a load of diamonds out of New Kimberley. One of my contacts on Ganymede told me you were the guy to hit up for info.”

Charlie’s face fell slack. “Gany—you mean you’re the guy Bob warned me about? The famous Black Dog?” He grinned like it was Christmas morning. “Man, the Black Dog coming to me for info! If that don’t beat all! Uhm… Jamme - I’m sorry about the remark about your ship, I—“

Jet waved his hand, brushing any offensiveness aside. They were talking cop to cop now. “Don’t worry about it. So what have you got on thieves? Any diamond shipments gone missing out of New Kimberley lately?”

Charlie smirked. “Not a chance. Security around the mines and carvers is tighter than a nun’s arse. Unregistered diamonds, or diamonds outside their proper containers, don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out of orbit.” He bit his cheek again. “What’s a hell of a lot more likely, these were stolen from Earth, and the smuggler’s bringing them here for fake registration. We get a lot of jokers trying that act around here. If he hasn’t already landed on Venus, your best bet is to catch the guy at some shady industry official’s office. Where are you at the moment?”

“Mars orbit. Our perp got away about three hours ago, if that makes any difference.”

“Well hell, man, get on over solar-side! Even if the crook beats you here, at least I’ll be able to treat the Black Dog to a couple of beers before he nabs ‘im. Hot damn!”

Jet grinned. “Thanks, Charlie. We’ll take the nearest gate and land at New Kimberley in…” he tapped the coordinates into the ship’s computer. “…about ten hours. See you then, and thanks again.”

“No problem at all. Tot siens!”

The screen went black.

Faye hated Gate transit.

Maybe everyone else on the Bebop had had the benefit of growing up surrounded by fancy-schmancy high technology, but as far as Faye Valentine was concerned, there were some things that humankind was just never meant to do.

Travelling faster than the speed of light was one of them.

Maybe Spike, Jet, and Ed were cut out for an environment where everything distorted just slightly; where light and weight just seemed ‘off’… but surely humans weren’t meant to endure this strange humming; this barely perceptible pulling of space.

She retreated to her room, as she always did, so she didn’t have to watch the stars with their sickening streaking from blue to red to black, stretching into lines like rain coming towards the Bebop…

Some things were just not meant to be.

Edward pranced like a gazelle through the Bebop’s cargo hold. The speed and power of Gate travel thrilled her. The enormous, rusty old trawler was moving faster than her own thoughts. A heap of solid matter shooting between planets faster than electricity between neurons – and she was inside!

Elementary physical principles be damned!

She somersaulted three times across the hard metal floor. Ein whimpered as if expressing sympathetic pain, but she felt none. Her spine was as flexible as rubber. Her limbs were infused with all the energy of the thousands of passing stars.

Spike lay back on the yellow couch, kicking his feet onto the armrest. When he closed his eyes during Gate transit, he imagined he could feel space and time stretching around the ship; around him.

When he closed his eyes… he usually fell asleep.