Harland Ranson flew through the Saturn system. He had a piece of ice in tow from the rings around the gas planet. The ice would provide water for a couple of colonies in the Belt. All he had to do was tow it next to the asteroid of choice and hand it over to a tug that would drag it to where it could be cut up for use.

His ship was barely more than a tug itself, but he had upgraded the engines as much as possible and could reach the outer planets in a day, but he would never be able to take her beyond the Oort Cloud.

Interstellar ships used the Ring system to get where they had to go. His ship would break apart if he tried to use that to reach some other system.

He thought about joining the Colonial Service once in a while, but he liked flying on his own, and taking jobs he liked rather than being at the beck and call of anyone with a higher rank.

And one place was as good as another.

Ranson checked his flight path as he tried to line up with the indicator buoy to show where the asteroid would be cutting its way through space. Once he knew where it was going, he would know how to match the flight path and bring the ice in for it.

“This is Enn Cee Cee Two Five Nine,” he broadcasted into the air. “I am looking for Ski Control. Are you there, Ski Control.”

“This is Ski Control,” said an operator. “I have you on the edge of the scope, Two Five Nine. Destination?”

“I'm bringing in a chunk of ice,” said Ranson. “It's to be delivered to Water and Power.”

“I need you to turn to course one fifty by one fifty six by ninety,” said the operator. “Then I need you to wait for Water and Power to contact you. They'll have a tug ready to go out in ten minutes.”

“All right,” said Ranson. He made adjustments in his course, and spotted the blob of rock and raw metal come onto his screen. It was at far edge of contact as far as he could see. His boat would cut in front of it and then drift behind it according to the course he had been given.

The Water and Power part of the asteroid was in the back from where he flew. Other ships flew from the rock as he sailed to where he could bring the ice in.

The other boats seemed to be heading out into the system, so he doubted any of them were on the way to take the ice from him.

He wondered where they were going. Maybe there was a job in it for him once he dropped the ice off. Any piece of change was a good piece of change.

His boat was good, but he had been eyeing upgrades and nonessential repairs for a while. He almost had enough to boost his towing system to carry another factor of mass. That would allow him to haul more freight behind him.

And then there was the weird smell and missing fan in his air supply. He needed replacements for his log and radio antenna. And he had been eyeing a new fuel system for more power.

And none of that was going to pay for itself.

He needed a big job to get enough to pay for everything in one swoop. He just didn't have the connections for a really big job. And he wasn't sure his tug could handle a big job.

He didn't want to be on the hook for the loss of cargo, or unfulfilled contracts. That would wreck him. He would lose his boat and have to settle somewhere. Flying again would almost be out of the question.

And if he did get a chance to fly, it would be for some boss, for some other ship owner, following someone else's rules.

He would rather head out beyond the Oort and turn his boat into a tomb.

“Two Five Nine,” crackled the radio. “This is Control Tower Two Six for Water and Power. Can you hear me?”

“That's an affirmative, Two Six,” said Ranson. “How do you want to do this?”

“I'm going to need you to stop power, Two Five Nine,” said the operator. “One of our tugs is going to match velocity to take the ice off your hands. Another is going to dock for an exchange of passengers.”

“Say again, Two Six,” said Ranson.

“We need you to provide passage for some people, Two Five Nine,” said the operator. “The contract will be sent to your box for authentication. We need you to take the supercargo to the indicated place on their file.”

“All right,” said Ranson. “Cutting power. Checking for the contract. I'm not taking anyone anywhere without pay.”

“Understood, Two Five Nine,” said the operator.

Ranson typed in the command to cut power and leave his boat motionless in space. His screen showed him two tugs lifting off from the surface of the asteroid. He knew that the tugs weren't meant for long travel from their home base.

He checked his box. A contract waited for him to agree to it. He whistled at the pay they had promised him. That was more than enough to upgrade his boat like he wanted. The money was almost enough to buy one his boat's class brand new.”

He wondered who they wanted him to airlock. No one offered that much for some kind of legit service. He sent the signed copy of the contract back. He checked his gooper for readiness before he made sure to clip it below his station.

Regular bullets would punch through the hull. A gooper wrapped a target in slime that hardened in a few seconds. The only time it was lethal was if it struck the target's bare face. Then it would seal the nose and mouth to cause asphyxiation.

He felt that he could hit someone's head two out of three times.

“Two Five Nine,” said the radio. “This is Tug Jasper X-ray Hotel. Please disengage claw system. We're ready to hook the ice.”

“Disengaging in three,” said Ranson. He counted down as he called up the menu for the towing system. He pressed the release command. The boat hummed as the claw and boom retracted to their storage space. “Disengaged.”

“We're connected,” said the tug operator. “We're pulling away.”

Ranson watched the screen as the tug drifted away with the ice. He checked his box again. The pay for the ice was in his account. He smiled.

Now he had to deal with his passengers. He wondered how much pull they had to have Water and Power send him that contract. He expected some kind of lie about what was going on.

He didn't have a need to know anything but where they wanted to go. Everything else was probably classified.

“This is Tug Jasper X-ray Baker,” said the other tug operator. “We're going to latch on and drop a line to your airlock.”

“Hold on,” said Ranson. “I don't have an airlock. We're going to need to drop a tube.”

“I don't have a tube onboard,” said the other pilot. Clear irritation came over the crackling line.

“Hold on,” said Ranson. He pulled on an air supply mask and went to his outer entrance. He commanded the pumps to store the air for later use. What was so important that he couldn't land and have them come aboard in an atmosphere? “Drop the line.”

“Line away,” said the tug operator.

Ranson opened his door. He looked out into space. A line drifted by him. He grabbed it and pulled it tight to the hawser next to the door. Suited figures slid down from the tug to his boat. He pulled them in and released the line. He shut the door. He activated the pumps to put the air back in the central chamber.

He checked his hands as he waited to be able to take off his air mask. Some of the blood vessels seemed to have popped. He shook his head as he went to the first aid kit and spread cream on his hands to help with the coming pain that would arrive at any second.

What was the rush? He expected to earn the numerous dollars he was being paid for this.

“How do you do?,” asked one of the suited figures. Gloved hands removed the helmet of the suit. “I'm Doctor Lauren Herd.”

“Harland Ranson,” said the captain of the tiny boat. “What's the hurry? I could have landed and let you board without the suits.”

“I'm sorry,” said Doctor Herd. She brushed back her hair with the back of her gloved hand. “We're here about the sighting you had on Titan last year.”

“Titan?,” said Ranson. “That was a misidentification. I have flown over that patch a ton of times since then. Nothing else has surfaced.”

“I hope you're wrong,” said Doctor Herd. “We've been trying to track you down for a while. When Ramses Water and Power passed along that you were getting ice for them, I knew it was our chance to catch up with you.”

The other figure took off his helmet. Grim eyes took Ranson's measure in a second. The expression on his face barely altered.

“Doctor Herd thinks you might have seen something,” said the stranger. “That's why we hired you. We want you to take us out where you were when you made the discovery.”

“This is Tom Anderson,” said Doctor Herd. “The university asked him to keep an eye on me while I do what I can.”

“So we all know each other,” said Ranson. He sat down in his chair. He should have known he was being hired for something that didn't make sense. “What makes you think I can help you?”

“You're the first person we know who was close enough to where the Argo went down and saw something,” said Herd. “If we can find it, it will be worth a small fortune for us.”

“Salvaging it could make us rich,” said Anderson.

Anderson didn't have the facial expression to show how excited he was at the hope of finding a system wide treasure.

Salvaging a battleship would be great for his bank account, but the Argo had gone down after a battle. No one knew where it had crashed.

Ranson wondered how much of this was a wild goose chase.

The money was high enough for him to take them out to Titan once. After that, they would have to find someone else to help them with their salvaging.

Ranson didn't want to be tied down. An actual salvage job would take years. He wanted to do a job, then move on to the next one. Hanging around in one place didn't sit well with him.

And he didn't want to hang around with people who might be on the edge of crazy.

“I know what you're thinking,” said Doctor Herd. “We're on a wild goose chase. The Argo exploded. There's nothing left. All we want is for you to take us out to Titan, and then wait while we do some survey work.”

“I guess I can do that,” said Ranson. “Do you want me to bring you back to Ramses, or take you to Mars?”

“It depends on what we find,” said Doctor Herd. “If we find something in the ice, we might be able to stage from Ramses. If we can't, we'll have to sail back to Mars and try to rethink where we went wrong.”

“All right,” said Ranson. “That seems reasonable. I can take you to Titan and spend three days for you to do your survey. That's how much supplies I have for the three of us to live off while you are doing your work. Then it will be a run to get back to Ramses, and fumes if we head for Mars.”

“We brought some supplies with us,” said Doctor Herd. “I suppose we could use our suits in case the air goes bad.”

“All right,” said Ranson. “Buckle in and I'll get the engine running.”

He waited them to take the guest chairs before he typed in the commands he needed to get his boat sailing. He shook his head. All this because he had entered a statement that he had thought he had seen a mass on Saturn's moon during a run with some cargo pods to Mars Port. He had been razzed over that for months.

Now here it was rearing its head again.

At least he was getting paid to head over where he had seen the shadow while cruising over the ice. The Argo had been lost after an epic battle with a fleet from Alpha Centauri. It had held the line until a fleet from the inner planets could arrive and force the Cents back through their ring.

Earth's retaliation had been named after the Argo.

That had been before Ranson had been born. The history of the war had been buried by years of other things that needed to be learned. Only the system wide information net kept things like that alive.

He watched his course reeling out in front of him as he considered that he might not have been wrong after all. If the Argo had not exploded like everyone had thought, it could be sitting in the water below the ice.

Finding it would make his reputation. Salvaging it would earn him more money from people who wanted the legend for their own museums and personal exhibits.

Herd and Anderson were a problem unless he wanted to space them after they found the Argo for him.

He gave himself a shake. He wasn't a killer. He definitely wasn't going to space anybody over a hulk buried in a ton of ice.

That was what screen villains did to the henchmen who talked too much.

“Don't worry, Captain Ranson,” said Doctor Herd. “The Argo is there. It's waiting for us to find it.”

He doubted that.