"What? Uh, sure." Kyle was hurt. This was his business as much as Tim's. Still, Tim was in charge, as always. While Tim and Jake turned away and began to talk, he dipped the document unnoticed from Jake's desk, out of pique as much as any other reason.
In the waiting room, Kyle turned his back to Jake's secretary and looked at the document. He expected to see some legal jargon about why their appeal had been denied. What he found was even more of a shock than the original verdict had been.
It was a copy of a letter from the Judicial Board of Appeals to the CoDominium, Bureau of Relocation, Secretary of the North American Region. Kyle's face flushed with panic as he skimmed the letter. It referred to activities by Tim he had never heard of: bribes so large that they must have come from their trust fund; financing and purchase of actual weapons for subversive groups; recorded meetings with known subversives.
Kyle frowned and read it again, more carefully. A quote from the prosecutor told him why these matters had not arisen at the trial. The prosecution had not felt their case was strong enough to get a conviction on them, and had feared that the defense might have discredited the entire treason case by picking apart the weak spots.
However, now that the prosecution had won, these points were once again part of the larger picture. The Judicial Board of Appeals concluded with a recommendation: that the Eng brothers be sent to the planet Haven, due to Tim's threat to U.S. national security and Kyle's well-known loyalty to his brother.
With an embarrassed glance at the secretary, Kyle drew in a long, slow breath and rolled the document tightly in his hands. So his brother wasn't as innocent as Kyle had always thought. Well, that didn't matter now. What did matter was where they were going.
They would never see Earth-and particularly Hawaii-ever again.
Tim and Kyle Eng had three more weeks in the local lockup before the next transport ship left for Haven. During that time, Kyle saw that through Jake, Tim made a number of deals that he did not discuss with Kyle. That was okay. Kyle was deeply depressed and could not: escape the suspicion that his life was already over. What kind of deals could Tim make that would help them now?
They shipped out on an ore freighter called the Olathe with a number of other convicts, including many of their so-called followers. At least these had had the decency, or the stupidity, not to testify against them in exchange for immunity. Not missing any chance, Tim quickly made friends with as many of them as he could find, regaling them with stories of politics or parties with celebrities, or anything else that would entertain them. In the process, he managed to turn the immediate vicinity of the Eng brothers' bunks into a running poker game. Several of the largest deportees signed on with the Eng brothers as bodyguards.
A security guard named Rollo Henley was in charge of their section. Kyle learned soon that through Jake, Tim had bribed certain members of the crew to allow him to host the poker game. Tim was allowed to receive a modest house cut. Henley became a traffic cop, carefully limiting the number of deportees who could enjoy Tim's hospitality at any one time. It was a security measure, of course, and Tim smiled indulgently at the bribes Henley collected from eager poker players himself.
Kyle had to admit that Tim was good. He lost money, though never a large amount at one time, in exchange for goodwill and information about Haven. It was his company that both crew members and deportees really liked.
"What are those?" Kyle asked one night, just before lights out.
Tim was reading some kind of little booklet, and two more were visible in his open duffel bag. "This one's a report on Haven. Jake found it for me before we left. The others are phrase books."
"Yeah? What languages do we use in the mines?"
"We aren't going to the mines." Tim looked up and grinned. "Relax, will you? We can't change what's already happened."
"Well, I certainly know that," Kyle said sourly.
"Aw, come on. What's wrong, little brother?"
"I don't get it," Kyle said. "How can you be so light-hearted about this? We're going to one of the most horrible inhabitable planets of all."
"It's a fourteen-month trip," said Tim casually. "We might as well make the best of it. I know you don't like poker, but I think we'll land with some goodwill and some solid information, too."
"I just don't see how you can be so cheerful about this disaster. I don't think Haven is very civilized. We probably have nothing better ahead than a lifetime of hard labor."
Tim was silent a moment. "Okay, look. I had Jake do some checking around before we left, and I have a deal with Henley you don't know about. But you have to keep this a secret."
Kyle hesitated, his heart pounding with sudden hope that his brother could land them both on their feet. "You don't have to tell me," he said. "I've learned to trust your judgment."
"Let's just say it's a self-contained freezer case," said Tim. "It's heavy, but once we've landed, solar power will keep the freezer going. On Haven, it'll be worth a fortune. That means it's worth our lives if anyone finds out about it."
"Don't tell me any more details," said Kyle. "But why won't Henley steal it, if it's worth so much?"
"On Earth, it's worth a lot of money, but it's not invaluable. In space, it's totally worthless. But mainly, he won't know what the stuff is, even if he breaks his promise and opens up the case to take a look. I doubt anyone on this ship can tell at a glance. On the whole, he'll make a big profit if he keeps his word and hell be at loose ends if he steals the case."
"What kind of a deal did you make with him?"
"Right before the trial, I had Jake sell all of my real estate holdings at fire-sale prices. The deal is, some of those buyers will give him a kickback when they resell. In turn, Jake has agreed to pay Henley a quarter million dollars if he returns with a password."
"What password?"
"The one I'll give him when we've landed safely on Haven with that case in hand."
"Don't tell me any more."
Kyle felt a little better. During the long trip, he observed that Tim was patiently asking crew members as much about Haven as he could. The information was spotty and colored with personal bias and faulty memories, but it was better than nothing.
Kyle took notes on what Tim learned, since that was not Tim's style of behavior. Kyle still felt that he was no more than his brother's shadow, a passive observer with nothing of substance to contribute. Still, he was very glad that Tim was there.
By the time the Olathe landed on Haven, Tim Eng was the most popular deportee on board. The circle of bodyguards in his employ had enlarged to a following that was informal but as loyal as a gang of deportees was ever going to be. Kyle didn't have the personality to inspire them the same way, but they understood that the brothers were a package deal.
The ship landed at Castell City on Splash Island. Kyle dreaded the moment. All he could picture was toiling in some freezing mine until he dropped.
As most of the deportees were herded into long lines headed into Castell City, Rollo Henley personally took Tim and Kyle aside. Their henchmen, numbering over thirty, were also drawn out of the line. Kyle shivered in the cool air of midday, watching.
"I've made the arrangements we agreed on," said Henley. He was carrying the heavy black freezer case. "Here's an address for you in Castell City, in the warehouse district. One of the guards at the processing center will take you there; he's already been paid, so don't let him gouge you. The time is midnight." He handed Tim a slip of paper.
"Midnight." Tim grinned. "How mysterious."
"I've also arranged your contingency plans. Call the number on that paper. If you need those arrangements, they will be made. If not, you can take the cost back out in favors here locally."
"Fair enough."
Kyle hated this. They were talking in code as far as he was concerned. He would just have to wait until Tim took him into his confidence, maybe in private.
Satisfied, Tim knelt, opened the freezer case, and glanced inside. Then he closed it again and held out his hand. "You're a man of your word, Henley. Thank you. And the word for you is, 'Temujin.' "
"Say again?"
"Temujin."
"Temujin?" Henley shook hands with him. "There aren't many men whose word I'd trust over this kind of distance."
"I have to trust Jake the same way, but I do," said Tim. "And I don't expect to get back there to check up on him. In your case, if anything does go wrong with Jake, you know where to look for me." He grinned. "In one of two places."
"Good luck." Henley slapped him on the back. "I'm going to escort your group in separately to expedite your processing. After that, you're on your own."
The processing was routine but boring. Kyle shivered in his standard deportee issue uniform as he stood in line, even after they were all inside the building. By now, he had already heard that Haven was very cold, its relatively small inhabitable area the best of a bad lot. This was no place for guys from Hawaii.
Soon enough, Kyle learned what Henley's bribes had been able to accomplish and what they could not. For instance, Tim's group was sent to temporary housing together pending placement, but they were simply stuck in a comer of a large room with a couple of hundred other people. They were told that they would be sent to various jobs tomorrow. In the confusion, however, Kyle finally got Tim aside for a moment.
"Would you mind telling me what's going on?" Kyle demanded. He rarely spoke to Tim so hotly, but he was frightened.