A Hop Skip and a Jump
Book Four of the Family Law Series
Chapter 1
The stars flashed in a kaleidoscope display again, until a yellowish star showed ahead. It was hard not to get all excited and act like a little kid at her first fair. It was an impressive display of superior technology for somebody used to a several days long run to jump and literal months spent to cross the same distance. Lee was already desperate not to seem terribly young and unsophisticated. But she was like somebody yanked from a world of clipper ships being the hot mode of transportation, and seated on a ballistic sub-orbital.
For all the worlds she'd visited, Lee had very little social exposure. She was aware from videos that there were all sorts of elaborate customs in many cultures. And some of the strangest groups had left Earth so they could practice their oddities without outsiders contaminating them. She just had to trust Gabriel wouldn't thrust her into a situation where she had no idea how to be polite.
"I'm taking us to a world about half way to the other end of the Human sphere of exploration," Gabriel said. "It's a semi-terraformed world. They named it Bountiful. That's more hopeful than descriptive. It already had some life in the sea and it is robust enough to have produced a respectable oxygen atmosphere. The land had very little in the way of life, and they have set aside islands and even a small continent as a park to preserve it. I have my doubts the native ecology will survive if they allow humans to set foot on those lands. Once you have a few mice or Earth insects get loose it's game over for the sort of simple organisms there."
"How long have people been there?" Lee asked.
"About forty years, but the world was sown with all sorts of plugs earlier. Prairie grasses, prickly pear and wild grains, wild rose and mosses, bamboo and marsh grasses about twenty years before that. They dropped some aquatic plants in fresh water bodies. Some of them did very well, and the colonists brought just about every plant known to man to test out. The colonists found enough wild rice and prickly pear established near Landing to be a real benefit the first year. They have quite a few serious tracts of trees started, and non-automated agriculture. It's an odd mix of modern and old, but it works for them. The penalty for introducing a weed is shunning and banishment. Their government has a fund and will buy you a ticket out on the first ship that will take you for not checking your fields and killing any weeds before they go to seed. That's a job for the kids in the spring. If they find a weed they get a nice reward for bringing it in, with the root attached."
"Where would weeds come from?" Lee asked. Don't they have control of their imports?"
"You'd be surprised how insidious they can be. No matter how careful you are, bulk seed will have an occasional weed. Seeds get stuck to other imports. They claim seeds have even survived on landing jacks and remained viable. When a shuttle lands they spray herbicide around the landing pads. Of course what is a weed is in the eye of the beholder. There are factions that want kudzu and dandelions, but neither has been approved."
"Do they have any weird customs I need to know to not offend?" Lee asked.
"Not really. Not around Landing City. Now, if you want to stay past thirty days, you have to get accepted in a community. That's a different story. Most of the colonists are Amish or Mennonite, and they get along well enough with each other. They have a charter to possess the main continent, and the other minor land masses only have some scientific outposts. You'd be expected to conform to their customs if you applied for immigration. You'd have to be sponsored, actually. But around Landing you don't have to wear a head covering. Even bare arms are OK, but shorts would be really pushing it. Somebody might politely ask you to cover up because they have children present. I've never seen you dressed immodestly, so I wouldn't have mentioned it," Gabriel explained. He looked at her considering... "You might shift your pistol back on your hip, under your jacket, and the knife too. It isn't their custom to display weapons."
"Why did you pick this world?" Lee asked.
"I want to get you back to Derfhome quickly, and a lot of developed worlds would have questions about this ship landing directly. They'd want to know where our ship in orbit is, assuming this was a shuttle from the size. Here, they have no traffic control and no station in orbit or system scan. In fact they often go weeks between ships, so there is little need for any traffic control. They are remarkably good at minding their own business. There is no customs examination, and they assume if I have business I know who I'm meeting and it's none of their concern. So we can have dinner and leave without filling out forms and being delayed. Oh... and the food is good," Gabriel added like an afterthought.
"I want a ship like this," Lee said. "If we'd had this it would have cut months off our recent voyage of exploration."
"It's a convenience," Gabriel admitted. "But you accomplished the same things. Indeed, you might have skipped over some of the things you discovered if you didn't slow down and look thoroughly at each system along the way. If you and your crew are all life-extended it won't matter as much either."
Lee thought about how some of their discoveries had unfolded. "I have to admit I can see that."
"And now that you have life extension there's not as big a rush to get things done," Gabriel repeated. "I doubt the full impact of that has hit you yet, but it will change and color how you do everything."
"You think I will be a very different personality?" Lee asked.
"No, my experience says your basic personality is already formed. You're how old now?" Gabriel asked.
"Closer to sixteen than fifteen," Lee said, refusing to be exact.
"Yeah, but an outlier," Gabriel said. "You don't fit the mold for your age. In some ways you are less mature and some ways more. You're an odd bird by the standards of any human society."
"I'm not a terrific fit for Derf or Badger society either," Lee admitted, "but I am what I am..."
"You are very much like my Lady April when she was your age," Gabriel said.
His voice took on an odd inflection when he spoke of her. Lee started wondering what his long standing relationship with April had been. She'd have to find a way to bring that up...
Gabriel meanwhile continued. "She also grew up without being embedded in the usual crowd of children her own age, although she wasn't nearly as isolated as you. She had the association of a habitat, though mostly adults, and not just her family. When do you first remember meeting others outside your family?" he asked.
Lee soon found that with an occasional small nudge and a few single sentence questions she had talked over an hour about her life as an explorer with her parents and Gordon. Right up until Gabriel had to pay attention to setting them on the ground. His ship had a very impressive AI he called Dilbert, which was named separately from the ship, which was the Cricket, but Gabriel didn't trust it to talk to strangers and land on an unimproved field. She never got to inquire much about him.
* * *
Back at Derfhome, aboard the Retribution, Gordon watched with amusement as there was a sudden surge in com traffic when they appeared on scan. Neither the USNA Albuquerque in orbit around Derfhome nor the visiting aliens had expected them to return from Earth so quickly. Gordon had moved his command to the Retribution in a rush, including his critical bridge crew. Thor's crew stayed. The Retribution had more room for them than the High Hopes, being short crew who mustered out after the long voyage. The High Hopes and the Dart would follow them to Derfhome at their normal pace. Neither was short of people qualified to command a ferry operation, and there was nothing more to be done at Earth since the Claims Commission declined to administer their claims in the Back of the Beyond. Who knew what the Caterpillars would do? They'd come and go on their own agenda.
Thor had experience running the Retribution before, and had recently switched back to her at Derfhome, when the Little Fleet had ended its voyage, and Captain Aristotle wanted to be released. They had no complex structure or tradition like a naval vessel against switching commands at need, or other crew for that matter. The biggest inconvenience was that Gordon boarded and boosted away without a chance to grab personal items from his cabins. He inherited a cabin with a human bunk and refused to boot Thor from his. He'd have to sleep on a temporary floor pad if they had stayed in flight as long as normal, but with the help from Gabriel this flight had been shortened until he didn't really need a cabin. It felt strange.
The fact they suddenly appeared so deep in the system scan without a long velocity shedding approach, that should have made them visible for a day already, upset the humans in the system worse than the aliens. The aliens weren't as sure what their drive and jump capabilities were, but the USNA crew in particular found it disturbing to have a heavy cruiser appear fifteen light minutes away, well inside system scan. Far too close to energy weapons range already. They probably figured it was some stealth tech. There was also the fact their entry burst had been echoed in a few minutes by what looked like a burst of exit radiation, which was just impossible. They had no idea about Gabriel's ship having the capacity to grab another vessel in its field and yank it along in multiple jumps. None of it made any sense, and anything he didn't understand was a danger, so the captain of the Albuquerque, already subject to aggressive taunting from the Fargoers in system, announced his immediate departure.
"He's in a hurry all of a sudden, isn't he?" Thor said to his captain.
"At two and a half G, straight from orbit within ten minutes of seeing us on scan?" Gordon asked. "I feel bad for the galley crew and maintenance guys. If somebody was changing filters or making bread dough they probably threw everything in a storage locker and scrambled for their bunk. They'll have to go back and scrap up dough or look for lost tools and fasteners after they jump."
"Better to do that, than broken legs or cracked skulls when the burn catches you in maintenance spaces, or worse, in a long corridor. At two and a half Gs you don't have to fall far to get hurt, and if you need to do a rescue that heavy it's pretty iffy too," Thor pointed out.
"They aren't on an Earth vector either," Brownie their navigator noted.
"Running to collect their backup and lurker out-system," Ha-bob-bob-brie suggested. "The one they sent a drone to when we were here last."
"Yes, they're on the same heading as the drone they released on our last visit," Brownie confirmed.
"They fail to understand that, once used, that tactic it loses most of its value in the future," Thor said.
"They still are arrogant and don't see us as capable of any finesse in tactics," Gordon concluded.
The Badger they called Talker watched all this from a jump seat, and spoke. "I'm just happy none of my people accompanied him. If these government officials had been talking with him all this time, and they agreed on to some scheme to leave with him for Earth, we'd have higher officials than me trying to form gods only know what sort of deal with the Claims Commission. I don't think they could budge the Commission, but it would put everything to which we agreed with you in question."
"I'd be surprised if anyone on the Albuquerque was allowed to have a dialogue with your people," Gordon told him. "The way he undocked as soon as your unarmed ship with the high officials docked speaks volumes. I'd guess he's firmly in the xenophobic camp of Earthmen. I mean, what did he expect? That the aliens were going to swarm across the dock and attack his ship?"
Thor and Ha-bob-bob-brie looked at each other from widely separated consoles and cracked up laughing.
Talker looked askance at them, and when no explanation was offered was forced to ask, "I get most Human and Derf humor, but I fail to see why this was so funny, and it obviously amuses the Hin too."
"Indeed, it is hilarious, Talker," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "May I explain?" he inquired of the Derf. He was the junior member of the bridge crew and conscious of his place.
Thor waved his privilege away, as did Gordon, although looking less happy about it.
"The humor is that Gordon did exactly what he brands somebody else trying as ridiculous. The present ship we are in was hijacked off the very same station. The Retribution used to be the USNA Cincinnati. It was the first act from which the Earthies knew that they were at war with Red Tree clan. The Cincinnati was docked at Derfhome station oblivious to the fact that an Earth court had kidnapped Gordon's daughter Lee and forced her into foster care. The officers went aboard the station to enjoy a nice dinner. The Derf planted a bomb on her nose right in front of the flight deck view ports, and got in the station maintenance spaces and jammed her grapples so she couldn't leave.
"When the commanding officers returned from dinner they found a different set of guards, all Derf, armored up and with modern weapons guarding the airlock instead of their own. Gordon has such a reputation for deceit and subterfuge now that the Fargone Navy was nervous having the Little Fleet in orbit when we were outfitting for our voyage to you. They made the government ask him to remove to Derfhome and provision in stages so their navy felt safe."
"They don't understand my thinking," Gordon complained, still irritated with the Fargoers. "I have no motive to threaten Fargone. They are our allies and have treated us well. It's foolish to be afraid of a friend just because they can harm you. Honorable people need cause."
"Well then, I guess aliens swarming across the station and seizing their ship isn't so far-fetched," Talker said, grinning. "I knew you had a war, and it was over Lee, but I didn't realize how Gordon initiated it."
"We went on to seize or destroy a few hundred billion dollars of shipping and naval assets," Thor said. "The Sharp Claws conducted a strike right into the Earth-Moon system that took out their naval shipbuilding yard. Come to think of it, with that we probably topped the trillion-dollar mark. I'm not sure anybody has ever run exact numbers. Let's just say we hurt them. It also made both Fargone and New Japan declare USNA military vessels non-grata in their systems. That's a major humiliation too."
"I am aware of the bare outlines of that conflict, if not every interesting detail like that, but I'm surprised that these other governments have excluded USNA vessels but Derfhome hasn't," Talker said.
"First of all, you don't declare such a thing unless you are prepared to enforce it," Gordon said. "We don't have sufficient vessels to always have some here to exclude them. In the end, the only way we have to really enforce it would be to destroy the USNA, and that's a clumsy tool we don't really want to use. They have shown a reluctance to believe we'd do that in the past. I've lived with Humans for years, I have some idea how they think. If you keep making a threat over and over they become inured to it. It would end badly, and we'd be a stink to all the rest of the Human nations and worlds even though we simply did exactly what we warned. No, it's better at present to appear not to care if they wish to visit. I suspect that irritates them as much as being excluded."
"Well, that answers another thing that was bothering me," Talker said.
Gordon just lifted an eyebrow, a learned Human gesture, and refused to beg for an explanation.
"I wondered at your sending Lee off with what appears to be your new ally Gabriel," Talker explained. "I am also a father and I'd be nervous sending my daughter Tish off our estate to have dinner with new friends. However, if Gabriel is aware the last people to treat Lee with disrespect suffered hundreds of billions of dollars in damages, and I assume thousands of deaths, it would seem he'd be quite mannerly."
"I didn't send her, she wanted to go," Gordon pointed out. "She was raised much differently than your Tish. I mean no disrespect to Tish or you, but she would seem to have been sheltered within a large family. That's nice if you have the luxury of it. We never had the circumstances to be able to shelter Lee. She had to learn to be safe in an adult environment and contribute to our business. She's near sixteen going on forty in some ways, other ways she isn't even up to speed for her real age. Being naive got Lee in trouble on Earth, but she's a semi-adult by Derf law and goes armed. If Gabriel was disrespectful I doubt I'd have to chastise him at all. Lee would probably cut his ears off and send him home with them in his pocket needing to grow new ones to teach him to be mannerly. Gabriel has his own agenda. Don't be sure at all that he is my ally. I'm not."
Talker smoothed down his own ears with a hand and looked distressed at the idea. "You're right. Tish would cry and be upset if someone treated her badly. She's never had to assert herself, and I doubt she has ever touched a gun. I'm not even sure she has had fruit that the kitchen didn't slice for her. Tish and Lee are far more different by upbringing than by race," Talker realized.
"I'm more nervous about how we're going to deal with the high mucky-mucks from your government waiting for us," Gordon said. "How are we going to persuade them they are obligated to back your acceptance of our own claims authority? They are going to demand details of how it works when we haven't even formulated exact rules and obligations. The possible claims structure is mostly a vaguely formed copy of the Earth system in Lee's mind at this point. It will be part of the High Hopes Exploratory Association, because that gives us a legitimate existing organization to which it can be attached, but it doesn't have any people, or separate funding, or a public mission statement yet."
"Well, then we better hope she's back from dinner before we have to speak with my superiors in depth," Talker said.
"I did some reading on raising Human children," Gordon remembered. "I think if they come back late from an outing with friends the experts recommended grounding them, removing some privileges for a time to alter their behavior. I'm not sure how that works with a girl who has her own fortune and starships."
"I think the biggest card you have to play is your own stern disapproval," Ha-bob-bob-brie advised. "For some reason the girl is more afraid of your displeasure than nervous Fargoer Admirals."
"You think so?" Gordon asked, seeming dubious. "Then why does she argue and crack smart all the time?"
"You need to read the chapters on teenagers again," Jon Burris said. "That attitude almost defines them."
* * *
The landing field had a fence around it. It appeared to be more for keeping livestock from wandering out under a landing vessel than any sort of security concern. Gabriel locked the ship with his palm on the pad beside the lock and insisted Lee let the ship read her palm too. The grass was lush and thick. It seemed to have a rich odor too. Lee wondered how they kept it mowed if it wasn't grazed, and then after walking through it she saw some it had gone to seed, so she decided it was gene modified. It must never grow over six or seven centimeters high. Just enough you had to lift your feet a little to walk comfortably.
"When we rushed from the Earth system and you took the Retribution to Derfhome for us, I sort of expected the Caterpillar ship to rush after us," Lee said. "They've displayed interest before when one of our ships broke away from the main body to reconnoiter."
"I have no clue as to their thought processes. Perhaps they will follow your other ships back to Derfhome. I very much doubt they could have followed us," Gabriel insisted.
"Your people haven't met them before?" Lee wondered. "We saw you had quite a bit of com traffic with them. You certainly seemed to be getting acquainted, or trying." When he said nothing Lee added, "We know you were aware of the Centaurs."
"I'm not comfortable discussing in any depth where we've gone and who we've met among the stars," Gabriel decided. "That's, as they say, above my pay grade to reveal. You'll find out more if you progress in becoming allied with our Sovereign Heather."
"There are secrets in the stars and I want to know them all," Lee protested. "It's like an itch."
Gabriel looked at her amused, and smiled. "I'm not unfamiliar with that trait." But instead of addressing it, he asked, "How long do you expect it will take to set up an alternative claims organization? You expressed interest in leading another voyage of exploration, but I can't see you doing that until you have agreements worked out for the claims process between the Badger sphere of influence and the Human dominated space. It might set you back a couple years."
Lee shrugged. "I can dicker on details. I think there is a lot of room to allow discoverers more than the Earth Claims Commission allowed. The commission had very low expenses, because there was never any serious challenge to its authority. However, if our new alien friends want to argue about every little detail, I'll tell them to go to the devil and make their own commission. If they think they have the assets to do it, and offer better guarantees than us, let them try.
"We should keep it simple. No need to do constant expensive show the flag cruises, but if somebody tries any serious piracy . . . drop on them like a Moon deorbited." She demonstrated that, stroking a fist down sharply into her other palm with a smacking sound.
"I'd forgotten you got your negotiating style from Gordon," Gabriel admitted. "It's hard to remember that you haven't met Jeff Singh yet when you talk like that."
"Why's that?" Lee asked.
"He tends to have a similar negotiating style. I can easily imagine him saying, 'Leave us alone, or I'll leave you a fused plain of glass that is visible from orbit.' And he'd say it like he's ordering lunch and doesn't really care which you pick. He's not one to raise his voice to make a point. If you think he isn't upset and doesn't mean what he says without yelling, it can be the death of you."
"I think I'd like him," Lee decided. "He's friends with April and Heather, right?"
Gabriel looked reluctant to speak, appraising both Lee's demeanor and 'friends' carefully.
"You might say that. They are both peers of Heather and long-standing partners," he said carefully.
Lee nodded, happily, leaving him no clue how much she understood.
"This must be our ride," Lee said.
Gabriel looked up and there was a vehicle approaching. It wasn't unexpected, they'd sent a taxi before when he was here, but he hadn't feel like sitting cooped up in the ship waiting for it on such a lovely day.
"Ride to town?" The driver asked when he pulled up.
"Yes, to town, to Yoder's Restaurant, also to sit and wait for us to return to the ship. Get yourself some supper take away and eat in the taxi on us, if it's your meal time, and you wish. How much?" Gabriel asked the man.
"A silver dollar Ceres or the equivalent, round trip, and I'll take you up on dinner. Yoder's is a good place. If you dally past sunset another silver piece because I get fined if I operate and make noise and hazard after dark."
Gabriel flipped him a coin and handed Lee into the high taxi. It had big wheels with pneumatic tires and a roof, but open sides with side curtains tied up out of the way. It was a pleasant day and no need of them. The six rear seats were comfortable and the driver had no separate compartment, nor a seat to his right. When the taxi made a wide turn in the grass the motor barely made a hum. Lee didn't see how that would disturb anyone passing in the evening, but she said nothing, but Gabriel read on her face that she had questions.
"It's run by a nice little diesel engine. Tiny is fine, because this cab won't go over forty kilometers an hour. Taking us in to town he probably won't even go over twenty-five or thirty. It gets very quiet at night here, and people sleep with open windows, so he might very well disturb people. They haven't any petroleum drilling, so the fuel is all agricultural by-product, and limited," Gabriel said.
"Would there even be any oil, with life mostly in the sea?" Lee asked.
"I know there is methane that percolates from the core," Gabriel said. "You always have that with an iron core and water. Whether it gets trapped or polymerized is beyond my knowledge. You'd have to discuss that with an exo-geologist."
The gate opened to let them out of the field. Lee couldn't tell if it was opened by a signal or had sufficient AI to know the difference between a cab and a cow. The road seemed to be pea gravel, with something sprayed to bind it. The noise of the tires now drowned out the sound of the motor entirely. The buildings that they passed seemed like something from a historic video. The sides were covered with slabs of something in horizontal rows, one overlapping the one below. If they'd only been here forty years could they be wood? Lee wasn't sure how long it took to grow a tree that big. None of the trees she saw, and there were plenty of them, looked big enough to make such planks.
They passed a little traffic going the other way. One was a freight wagon of a similar size to theirs, but with an open box. It was full of fruit of some kind, and it had an exhaust pipe sticking up at the rear that released a barely visible wisp of vapor.
"That's a steam truck, with a load of apples," Gabriel supplied when he saw her looking intently.
"The trees are old enough to make fruit?" Lee asked.
Gabriel was amused. "The trees bear fruit before they are as tall as you."
The men had on clothing that looked hot. It ran to black and blues with some grey, of heavy fabric. All of it with long sleeves and no short pants. Quite a few wore hats too. There didn't seem to be many women out and about, but there were girls where there were children. Lee noticed that the girls all seemed to wear a small white cap or bonnet of some sort once they were about her age. She was wearing trousers with wide legs. There wasn't a single woman dressed like her. They all had some sort of skirt.
"They won't object to my wearing pants?" Lee asked.
"Nope, not as an outsider. They'd rather see you in pants than a skirt they consider too short. And they're nice loose trousers," Gabriel noted. "If you'd shown up in sheer tights like Loonies wear, some of these old fellows with white beards would faint dead away."
Lee stifled a laugh, not sure if their driver could overhear.
"Here's our place," Gabriel said. It was clearly not a residence. The building was too long, with windows inappropriate to a home. There was a lot beside it with quite a few vehicles parked and a rack with bicycles. Any other time Lee would have been keen to go examine the bikes, because they fascinated her. Sometime she wanted to try to ride one. It was hard to believe they didn't just fall over. Today she was hungry and anxious to get back to her people.
"It certainly smells good," Lee agreed.
A middle-aged woman in a rather full blue dress, with a white apron and a lace cap, took them to a table and left them with menus in both English and German. Lee was disappointed there weren't any pictures of the food.
* * *
"Message coming in for Talker," Jon Burris said. "Big message coming in," Jon said, amazed.
"They couldn't wait until we were close enough to speak around the speed of light lag," Talker said, with a resigned sigh. "Go ahead and put it on an open channel and a real-time translation. It's going to be a hundred thousand words that say - We will take over now. You are being replaced." Talker predicted.
"Do you want to move up to a private console with a screen to read it?" Gordon offered.
"No, I'm not hiding anything from you or your crew. Unofficially, you are going to be my allies against the bureaucracy," Talker told them. "Singer needs to see it as well. I am certain they will try to undo everything that doesn't have their imprimatur on it. I'll try to be as polite as possible, but I need you to appear ready to abandon the entire enterprise if they don't keep prior agreements. If they try to say I had no authority I suggest you appear incredulous. Ask them how I could muster ships and resources to come with you if I had no authority. Stand firm, that if they don't keep agreements, then you have no confidence any pacts they make can't be swept away by somebody else just as easily."
"I don't have to play act," Gordon told him. "That's a pretty fair assessment of my feeling."
Talker, rapidly skimming the message, informed them. "I should tell you that so far the message is just a detailed accounting of who they sent, and exactly what their authority is. When that section ends I'll put a page break and a yellow highlight bar across it from my personal pad. They have sixteen officials on board with sufficient power to get their names on the list. It's interesting the order in which they appear, each with their own header before their name and credentials."
"Yep, it's dominance games," Thor said. "All politicians do that in some form or another."
"Indeed," Ha-bob-bob-brie agreed, "among the Hinth the last listed would be said to have the fewest tail feathers from their struggles for position. The big boys would have pulled them all out."
"Ah, here we are. Twenty-three pages in, they finish telling us how important they are, and finally get around to telling you that I didn't have any authority to make treaties and agreements with you."
"You are The Voice of Far Away are you not?" Thor asked Talker, gruffly.
"I am, and besides being an executive, I speak for the judiciary both high and local, if they have a case important enough to demand a reading from the executive. I am authorized to speak for the species to all the other races in residence and visiting ships and merchants. I suppose they didn't foresee the possibility an entirely new set of aliens would appear and I'd have opportunity to speak for more than Far Away. But my charter and office in no way preclude doing so."
"They're slow to learn then," Gordon accused them. "The arrival of the Biters and the troubles they've brought you were plenty of notice that such things happen."
"True, although nobody has had much success talking to them," Talker admitted.
"Explain something for me if you would," Thor requested. "I'm not trying to be argumentative, but I'm curious. Why does the court ask you to do a public reading or a face to face with somebody impacted by their decision, but not others?"
"As Commander Gordon has mentioned, government is force," Talker said. "It should be applied with some delicacy. Why don't you beat your children with a club when they fail to have perfect table manners? Things should be...proportional. To do otherwise creates dissent and invites rebellion in the long run. If a worker creates a fuss by being drunk in public or puts his ground car in a ditch, a judge will fine him, or perhaps even just issue a public reproof. One does not expect defiance at that level from our people. But if someone causes bodily harm to others or steals from others with a criminal scheme, well, that is at a much higher level. The judge will ask me to read their decision so the miscreant knows the court is willing to have me as executive enforce their judgment. They are put on immediate notice that I can send officers to arrest the person or seize their goods."
"Wouldn't the judge do that if the fine was ignored for a lesser offense?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"Yes, but then it isn't for the original offense," Talker said.
"I don't understand," Ha-bob-bob-brie said, puzzled.
"I do," Jon Burris spoke up. "In human courts if you ignore a minor judgment they call it contempt of court. Ignoring the authority of the court and defying their decision is easily a much more serious infraction than the original offense."
"Exactly," Talker agreed. "I was short of words to describe it. I believe I'll try to have that language added to our statutes when we have an executive convention. It translates very well."
"Nothing about that diminishes my view of your authority," Gordon said. "These fellows are going to get a pretty thorough grilling from me if they try to dismiss your authority and recommend their own as superior. I've had to make decisions out on the pointy end of things plenty of times myself. When all the dust is settled, and the issues are safely decided, you don't need a bunch of desk pilots second guessing you," he growled.
Talker was trying to cover his mirth with both hands, but couldn't. "Another graphic expression I'll borrow," he promised. "It transliterates beautifully, but better if you introduce them to it than me."
"Desk pilots?" Gordon asked, to be sure what was amusing him.
Talker could only nod yes, still giggling.
"Give me a picture of a Badger desk and I'll have somebody sketch it with oversized thrust nozzles and a wind canopy," Gordon offered.
That didn't help Talker stop laughing at all.
Chapter 2
Even though there were only two of them the restaurant served everything family style, when Lee echoed Gabriel's choices and ordered the same. Lee saw that expression on the menu, but didn't realize what it meant. They were brought a pot of coffee and a platter with four kinds of breads. The butter was a solid block of about a half kilo. The salad was chopped cabbage and other vegetables tossed in a thick creamy sauce, just slightly sweet. Lee asked for and ground a heavy dusting of black pepper on it, which surprised Gabriel. Pepper was an import. You had to ask for it special, and the menu noted it was extra cost.
"That's a treat. We had some experimental hydroponics on our trip. It's the first time in some years it was attempted again, so we had enough greens for garnishes and dressing on sandwiches." Lee looked at Gabriel and thought... "But I guess you get where you are going so fast you have no need of gardens."
"Don't forget we run to much smaller ships too," Gabriel reminded her. At least any of their ships she'd seen, so that was slightly disingenuous. Gabriel wrongly supposed she wouldn't remember that in a few years. He spread sweet butter thickly on a slice of white bread with little chunks of candied fruit and nuts in it. They sold it by the loaf in the lobby and he intended to take some home when he left.
The dining room was open. They could see other tables and their occupants, but after a glance they were politely ignored, getting less examination than she'd received on other worlds that were supposedly more sophisticated and urban.
The roast beef was falling apart tender, and the gravy thick and rich. Lee had opportunity to give full rein to her recently modified metabolism. Their waitress was about the same age as Lee and her face betrayed a little shock at how Lee packed it in.
Far from keeping everything carefully separated, Lee piled firm egg noodles in a nest of heavenly mashed potatoes, added butter and gravy, and topped it all with bright green peas. She'd never had peas that weren't starchy and soft. These were crisp and had a lively sweet flavor she'd never experienced.
The coarse multigrain bread with all sorts of chunks, including very visible whole seeds, was pretty good too. It had a firm chewy texture and worked fine to chase the last bit of potatoes and beef onto the fork. That was the last of three plates for Lee, so Gabriel felt safe to wave off the scandalized waitress when she paused with her hand on the empty bowls to see if he'd ask for more to be brought.
"We better leave a little room for dessert," he said, lest Lee think she was cut off early.
"Your recommendations on supper were wonderful," Lee said. "What's good for dessert?"
"Pies," Gabriel suggested. "They have all sorts, different custards and creams, with fillers like coconut or covered with chiffon. But I very much recommend the fruit pies. I'm having apple."
"What fruit pies do you have?" Lee asked their server.
"Apple, as your . . . companion suggests," the girls answered carefully. Not sure of these outsider's relationship. "Blueberry, raspberry, peach, pear with walnut, pineapple, cherry, rhubarb and strawberry rhubarb, cranberry with pecans, raisin, and blackberry."
"Oh my," Lee said, overwhelmed.
"The apple is very good," the girl prompted, hoping to avoid any long-term indecision. "Aunt Beth makes it with Northern Spies and lots and lots of cinnamon and ginger and a few golden raisins."
Lee just blinked at the idea of any sort of spies in her pie and let it go. They did have to get back today, and that seemed like it could be a long discussion . . .
"I'll have the apple, but give me a piece of the blueberry too. I just love blueberries, and if I can't eat it I'll take it home. That is OK to do here isn't it?" she asked on second thought.
"Oh yes ma'am. They sell the bread and whatever whole pies we have left at the front on your way out. In the morning they have cinnamon rolls and such too. Would you like ice cream with the pie?"
"I'll have the cinnamon ice cream," Gabriel spoke up.
"Do you have plain vanilla?" Lee asked.
"I wouldn't call it plain," the girl said. "It's pretty rich with cream and eggs, but it's vanilla. You can see little flecks of the vanilla in it," the waitress offered.
"That will do fine," Lee agreed. She had no idea what the girl was talking about again.
"I never used to eat like this," Lee said when both pieces of pie were gone.
"It's possible to throttle it back," Gabriel reminded her. "You can even have the metabolic boost removed and still keep all the life extension therapy. But if food is abundant, and you enjoy eating why not leave it be?" Gabriel asked.
"It's way too early to decide," Lee said. "Ask me in a year or two instead of a week."
"See? You're taking the longer view already," Gabriel said, smiling.
Gabriel carried a bag for each of them to the taxi. He had all four kinds of bread and Lee had the coarse bread and two whole pies. She intended to feed one to Gordon. For him it would be about four bites. The waitress was surprised when he left two silver dollars Ceres to cover the meal, but a small gold coin for her tip. She put that away in a pocket quickly, before it incited a wave of jealousy.
* * *
"I see," Gordon said to the Badger spox from their home planet. "So we're back to square one. I'll bring your spox from Far Away over on a shuttle if you want. If he acted so far outside his authority I assume you'll have to put him under arrest. Should I shackle him for you? Is he the sort who might offer you violence?"
"I didn't mean . . . that," the elder Badger, Timilo, objected.
"Well I read your transmission of some hours ago to him, the translation anyhow. It was in the clear, not encrypted for his ears only. I don't read Badger very well yet, but I think we have a pretty good translation program. It seemed to agree with what you have been saying since we got in voice range. We made all these agreements and it was a colossal big waste of time. Go ahead, take him and go home. We'll have to consult with our partners and decide if it's worth the long voyage to go back to Far Away.
"I have little appetite to start over. If I was misled so easily about his authority how can I be sure of yours? I thought we had the basics of your social structure figured out, but here he lied to us," Gordon complained. "I have no desire to invest months with you and find out your people won't honor your commitments either. I thought you got a pretty good agreement from us. Got things you need, like ways to deal with the Biters, but now you don't like it. Go home," Gordon said again, with a dismissive wave. "You can wait a few days for the Dart, or we'll send her after you if you wish."
"Let's not be hasty," Timilo the Badger home world spox said, wringing his hands nervously. "We might find parts of the agreement salvageable. With clarification and extensions," he added.
"No thanks," Gordon said, politely. "You had the broad outlines of it when you left Far Away. It's not complicated. We listed all we hoped to accomplish. Unfortunately the Earth nations refused to support their commission to administer claims so far away. We couldn't predict that. It's never been an issue before. But we intended to do the same thing from a closer, more convenient seat of operation on Derfhome. It will be on better terms really, but we can just administer claims for our own group of species if you don't wish to be included. Of course, if there is a conflict in claims you can reasonably expect we'll favor our own," Gordon explained. "You're aware of the folks at New Japan and Fargone. I'm sure in a short period of time, five or ten years if you put some effort into it, you can get armed up sufficiently to deal with your Biter problem. You don't need us," Gordon assured him.
Timilo looked panicky, even to someone not skilled at reading his alien face. "It would be terrible to start our journey here with an agreement in hand, and then return with nothing."
"Not my problem," Gordon said, with a Human style shrug. "We have our claims all along our voyage to you and an arch back. That's all we expected starting out. Anything more was an unexpected bonus. We expect commercial contracts to be honored with your merchants. If you prohibit those and force your merchants to repudiate them then I doubt New Japan or Fargone will sell you the systems you want either. Why deal with oath breakers?"
Gordon frowned, a sort of grimace, which showed some teeth. "Unless you are challenging our claims in the systems we visited as we came to you?"
"Oh no, not at all, that was never discussed," Timilo said quickly. "Allow me to go speak with the rest of my delegation," he asked. "Let me tell them your views frankly and get a consensus."
"I don't know why you didn't have them all listening in from the start," Gordon said. He knew exactly why, but would act ignorant of the sort of power hoarding games Timilo was playing.
Timilo took that for a dismissal and promised to get back to Gordon quickly.
* * *
"Derfhome control, this is Brownie for Master Gordon in the Nation of Red Tree Heavy Cruiser Retribution. We would like docking as near the Badger vessel as convenient, since we have business with them. Be advised the High Hopes and Dart are in transit and will arrive in several days. We do not expect the High Hopes to dock. We have no idea of the Dart's plans. The large alien vessel that has been following us may show or not. They aren't under our control at all. They'll do as they please."
"Retribution, we have a vacancy two slots down from the Badger vessel, Testhaus. We are told that translates as Messenger. Given your angle of approach, please do an orbit around Derfhome on the leading side, and then do a normal following approach to the station. Do you wish utilities or fueling?"
"We'd like power and sanitary connections, Control. We are good on fuel."
"Gordon, we have an entry burst about a light hour out. The vessel had considerable velocity so far in system, and appears to be decelerating at twelve Gs. My guess would be that your daughter is back from dinner," Brownie said with a big smile.
"Yes, confirming the Cricket flagged to the Kingdom of Central is hailing Derfhome station for a drop off, and asks a straight in approach. Derfhome control welcomes them and notes this is a first visit for a Central flagged vessel. They advised them they may drop their passenger at dock fourteen which will display a beacon, and there will be a fifteen-hundredths of an ounce fee for the airlock cycle. Cricket requests a dock cart pickup for their passenger and packages, and says that she will have the fee in cash. It looks like she is going to beat us to the station," Brownie said.
"Ah, so you won't have to try grounding her," Jon said with false relief.
"Packages? She had time for dinner and shopping too?" Gordon said, surprised.
"They must have stayed in this galaxy," Ha-bob-bob-brie joked, tongue firmly in whatever served the Hinth for a cheek.
"How quickly we accept the impossible and make jokes about it," Thor told him.
"Has local traffic control said anything about his entry?" Gordon asked.
"Not a blessed word," Brownie said, "if it's impossible sane folk just ignore it."
"Huh, what can I say? First impossibility I saw, I didn't want to enter it in the log," Gordon agreed. "Brownie, call somebody on the station and arrange for them to take pix of the Cricket on approach and docked. Tell them to be subtle about it. And tell them we'll be picking Lee up when we dock."
* * *
The AI did a perfectly acceptable docking maneuver. Derfhome control informed them there was a cart and driver waiting for her. He was also the Derf version of a customs officer.
"That was a pleasant dinner," Gabriel said. "I'll see you again fairly soon I'd wager. I'll stay at the controls if you don't mind letting yourself out. You go down to the next deck and there's a tunnel up to the nose under the flight deck. It's not how we usually dock at our own stations, but it's where we keep a standard docking collar for Human stations. It would be an awkward goodbye from behind you in a narrow tunnel," he apologized.
"Why do you expect to see me soon?" Lee asked, surprised. "Will you have business back here?" She was out of her couch and ready to climb down through the hatch, but she wanted that to be answered first.
"No, but if you get your claims organization functioning I expect you'll do another voyage of exploration off the opposite direction," he said with a vague wave of his hand. "You'll go past Earth and come back past in maybe three or four years. If I'm not out of the system I figure you might stop again in passing. If not, I saw how well you got on with April. I'm sure you'll be back to Central sometime in the next couple decades."
Lee laughed. "That's still not soon to me. Life extension hasn't changed my thinking that much yet."
"It will," Gabriel promised. "You'll see."
"Maybe," Lee agreed, "And thank you for dinner and your help with the Retribution," she said hanging on the take-holds to drop down to the next deck.
"That's fine. It worked out well, because we didn't need another set of alien vessels getting the Earthies all excited," he said with a smile. "They tend to do stupid unexpected things when startled, so I hope your people resolve their issues and keep your new allies at Derfhome."
As she climbed down Lee wondered how much of his help was a favor, and how much was what he'd just said? Or if both, how to weigh their relative importance? Gabriel hadn't said so explicitly, but Lee realized none of the aliens they met could follow a ship like the Cricket back to Earth when it moved the way she'd just seen.
The driver was waiting, and couldn't hide his surprise when it was a young Human. He had a cart with a flat platform on the back comfortable for a Derf. Instead Lee climbed on the bench seat beside him and carefully put her package on the floor between her feet. Lee gave him the docking fee and an extra coin for his services. It was probably too much, but she didn't care.
The driver asked her citizenship and looked surprised all over again when she informed him she was First daughter of the Third love son of the Four Hundred-Seventy Third First Mother of Red Tree, by the Hero of the Chain Bound Lands, Second line of the short haired folk, of Gordon - Lee Anderson. He wasn't about to question such a claim, not with a Red Tree heavy cruiser coming in to pick her up, and the furthest thing from his mind was to scan a young woman for weapons or prohibited items. There wasn't much prohibited into Derfhome station anyway. She didn't look like she had much of anywhere to hide live birds, and she didn't carry the shopping bag like it was full of plutonium. He relayed the information to the station administration on internal com, repeating her name flawlessly.
"The Retribution won't be into dock for a couple hours still," the driver informed Lee. "Is there somewhere you want to go wait?"
"Take me to the closest place to their dock where you think I might get a decent cup of coffee."
"I'll drop you at a place about two hundred steps away from the dock that brews real bean coffee. Tell them Mark sent you to them," he requested. "Do you need high security storage for star-goods?" he asked, nodding at the package between her feet.
"Oh! No," Lee laughed. "It's just a couple pies I picked up at dinner for my dad."
The station worker looked confused, and then decided to drop it. If she didn't want him to know what she carried that was fine, no need to insult his intelligence. He wasn't going to be baited to be a humorless official and demand to see them. Pies indeed...Nobody carried pies between the stars, but then for a wonder he caught the scent of apples. Lee had no idea why he looked at her so oddly. He was still concerned to drop a young girl off by the docks. As safe as Derfhome station was compared to some others, the docks still had a lesser reputation.
"I'll have dispatch call your ship and tell them where you are waiting," The fellow said, looking worried. "It isn't the best part of the station. Some of the dock rats are rough characters. I'd suggest you wait there and don't go out wandering around."
"I'll keep that in mind. I've been in Earth jails. I doubt Derfhome station has anyplace to compete with them for scumminess. I shall be cautious," Lee promised, amused. She didn't mention the hypervelocity pistol under her elbow. The silly fellow would insist on holding it for her, and in a couple hours Gordon would have to send a courier all the way to the station offices to recover it. Besides, she liked the tactile reassurance of the deadly lump.
* * *
"Is this joint any good?" A familiar voice rumbled. Lee looked up and grinned at Gordon.
"I didn't feel the station lurch. You must have had Thor dock," Lee said. "I expected a com call or that you'd send a lackey to fetch me." Lee waved at him to take a seat.
Gordon looked across the room at the waiter and made a drinking motion, pointing at Lee's coffee.
"Not much for me to do once we're grappled at dock. We don't have any lackeys," Gordon assured her. "They're all highly skilled workers. They're much busier than me now that we're docked. There's provisioning and maintenance you can't do under way. They're all self motivated and near irreplaceable to hear them tell it. Especially since they all figure they're millionaires several times over now, they've all developed a huge independent streak since they won't have to scramble for work. They aren't getting a Claims Commission payment as quickly as they hoped, but the banks would probably advance them cash against their claims, at a suitable discount."
"That does change the dynamic, doesn't it?" Lee admitted. "But we still can retain the wanderlust weirdos and the adrenaline junkies who weren't in it primarily for the money."
"Maybe we should reduce crew shares now that we have the avaricious ones weeded out."
"Primarily, they're weird not stupid," Lee told him. "I thought you and Talker would be busy talking with the Badger officials waiting here," Lee said.
"Ah, well that's another reason I decided to come collect you. I've had about as much talk-talk with the officials as an honest person can stand in one day. If they call to uh... excuse the expression, but badger me, Thor can tell them I'm on station and unavailable at the moment. It will build character to not have their calls received with breathless anticipation.
"Did Gabriel take you off into the Deep some new direction? It occurred to me after you left, that he might take you to some distant Central colony such as he and April hinted they've established."
"Gabriel was very hush-hush about any of Central's secrets. He took me to a colony in Human space started by religious groups that want to separate themselves. It was an agricultural world founded by Amish and Mennonite groups. He said it's hard to get a decent dinner off in the Deep. We had a very nice meal and I brought you an apple pie. I had a piece so I can assure you it is top notch."
"Thank you. We visited a world like that near the end of the war," Gordon remembered. "They treated aliens better than the supposedly modern and enlightened worlds. It was pretty pleasant. I have my doubts the horses would have ever gotten used to me however. I made them nervous."
"Interesting, I never saw any horses on Bountiful. They had lots of very efficient light vehicles with steam engines and diesels," Lee said.
Gordon nodded. "A different colony plan I'd suspect, and perhaps different skills available in the colonists. There's a lot to know to take care of animals. To train and breed them, and keep them disease free."
"Like most planets it was fun to visit, but I think it would get monotonous to live there," Lee said.
"How did you find Gabriel?" Gordon asked directly. "Does he loosen up and get any more outgoing one on one? I thought him rather reserved most of the time."
"Oh, I've been sitting here thinking about Gabriel," Lee said. "You know, the videos are full of all kinds of people in complicated social situations, but just like I found out on Earth, it's a whole lot different actually dealing with people face to face than in the videos. In the future if we have to deal with April, or go to the Moon, I'll try to avoid Gabriel. He said he was looking forward to seeing me again in a few years, or decades! He really does take the long view with life extension. I decided not to argue that with him or be unkind, but I'm of the firm opinion I can only make him unhappy."
"That rather surprises me," Gordon admitted. "But why did you say it that way, that you'd make him unhappy, instead of saying he'd make you unhappy?"
"Because Gabriel is in love with April," Lee said, with certainty. "I'm not even sure he knows it, but he completely changes his voice and manner if he relates something about her. It's so obvious even I can figure it out, as little as I've been around people. He kept remarking how similar I am to her when she was my age. I'm pretty sure he hopes I'll turn into April, just given a little time. I really don't see that happening. In fact, I have no desire to become April, no matter how neat she is, and I liked her a lot. We're alike some ways, but he only sees the similarities he wants to see. No matter how close I get, I'm afraid I'm never going to be April. It would disappoint him in the end."
"Ah, that's sad. I wonder if April knows?" Gordon pondered.
"How could she not, if even I can figure it out?" Lee asked. "It did teach me something though. I wasn't even aware it was something I needed to learn, but it's a remarkable insight. Just because you like somebody, in no way does that mean they are going to feel the same way back."
"I think that's one of those things that's so obvious nobody feels the need to spell it out," Gordon said, "at least not in a formal way. I'm sure there is literature that explores it. Surely there must be a modern play or a movie that touches on it. I think it might be characterized as a tragedy. There is a genre called romances, but I believe they are universally happy,"
"I guess nobody loaded up my playlist with tragedies," Lee said. "You give kids happy stuff."
"Yes, we're guilty of that I suspect...Well! At least the food was good I hope?"
"The food was fantastic," Lee agreed. "I enjoyed seeing a completely different Human culture, and the ride was a blast again. I tried not to be too obviously impressed, but damn!"
"We'll catch up," Gordon promised. "Just knowing it can be done is the first big step. You'll have time to do it now, and likely I will too.
"We need to go to Fargone and talk to Admiral Hawking," Lee said suddenly, with a very determined expression.
"That would not be especially difficult," Gordon agreed. "The High Hopes is coming in soon. We can take her to Fargone. They will be more comfortable if I visit with an explorer than a heavy cruiser. I seem to make them . . . nervous. In fact, it might be desirable timing to do so right now to get away from this mob of Badger officials. They are driving me crazy. But why this sudden change of subject? Why do you wish to see Admiral Hawking?"
"Not a change at all," Lee said with a dismissive wave. "Hawking is the highest Fargone official we know. April said they had life extension for Fargone citizens. They have very tight, closed, immigration policies. Well I believe it's time they formalize their relationship with us. We certainly played along with him to allow both their ships and spox to accompany us. We're rich, we're assets. We're not refugees or beggars hoping for a handout. Why shouldn't they grant us citizenship? They should be pleased. Then we'll have a nearby resource for life extension tech. No reason for us to invent everything from scratch for you here at Derfhome. Bonus too! Maybe you wouldn't scare the snot out of the Fargoer navy if you were a citizen. Do you really think Hawking is going to turn you down? Maybe his superiors will have to be persuaded, but he'll back us."
"Now there's an attractive proposal if I ever heard one," Gordon admitted. "Should we send a drone message ahead?"
"No," Lee decided, frowning. "That makes it too easy to say no from afar. Let's just turn up there at his door, and if he won't speak to us we'll find somebody else who will. But I think he will."
Chapter 3
"Yes, we'd love to conference with you," Gordon agreed pleasantly. It was a polite lie. "However my daughter and I need to run to Fargone for a few days on other business."
Lee always got suspicious when Gordon sounded so charming. It wasn't natural. She wished she could hear the other end of that conversation, or at least see the screen, because he took it on his hand pad. It would be just a little too obvious to run around and peer over his shoulder, especially since she'd have to stand on a chair to do that.
"Yes, yes, we do have a life . . . "Gordon jabbed gently, to let the Badger know the universe didn't revolve around him."We need to see if the Fargoers are willing to do some mutual research with us in the biological sciences. It'll all be very public since we publish all contracts on Derfhome. We have an amazing set of new organisms from our explorations, and have become aware of some interesting advances at the Human home world we wish to share. The Fargoers certainly have the wealth to invest, and mutual goals I think. They're handy to us too, unlike the Earthies."
All that was true, but framed in a very misleading way, Lee thought. For example, which way the sharing would be assumed to flow. It was instructive watching Gordon schmooze and control the discourse, even only hearing his side. A computer stress and inflection analysis would show he believed everything he said. Well, except any pleasure at conferencing with them, but that could be excused as diplomacy. Gordon thought meetings were an utterly boring waste of time, and the chances they would be productive went down in direct proportion to the number of participants. It just might not be what his listener believed the same words meant.
"To make your wait productive, why don't you form a good solid list of the benefits you wish to derive from our Claims Administration once the Exploratory Association fully forms it? Now is your opportunity to help shape it into something that will serve you as well as us when it is just being developed. That's always easier than changing it later.
"You may surprise us with some things we wouldn't have thought to offer, and you can decide what sort of fees you think reasonable for everyone. We certainly intend to charge Derf, Human, Badger and all the others the same. It would cause an outrage otherwise," Gordon assured him smoothly.
Gordon listened a little while and frowned. "I keep getting confused. One day I think Talker is likely to be taken home in chains, disgraced, and the next day you are asking if I'd use him to help formulate this agreement. Absolutely, I would. But I can't tell you who to trust and employ. It's your culture and government, you know what is proper by your own laws and custom. We're getting closer to understanding all the time but I won't deceive myself that we feel the same things when we talk.
"My take on Talker is he has made wonderful progress understanding the idiomatic use of English. Now, English is a second language for me too, but I've lived with humans for decades. He also seems to have grasped many of the cultural assumptions behind the language. I know that unless you cut him off from contact with us, I'm going to use him for us, to help us understand Badgers. He's helped us understand Bills and others too. I think you'd be foolish to throw away his experience with Humans and Derf, but I can't tell you what to do. You'll have to do what serves your own needs by Badger standards, not mine."
"By all means, go down to Derfhome while we are gone, and get a feel for the place. There's a substantial human population. You can meet Humans of all social strata, and see how they interact with Derf. That will probably tell you more about both of us than dealing with one race alone," Gordon predicted.
"Alright, we'll speak in a few days. No need to send any dispatches to Fargone. We'll be near coming back before they'd catch up, they're ridiculously expensive, and we'll be too busy to give them the attention they merit anyway," Gordon enumerated.
"What a flaming idiot," Gordon said after he terminated the call.
"Each species seems to have the full spectrum of idiots," Lee said, resigned to it.
"It's almost like a rule, we each seem plagued with a minimum allotment," Gordon agreed.
"Hope that we never meet a cold emotionless race driven by ruthless logic," Lee decided. "They'd hate us all and refuse to deal with us, if not simply decide to exterminate us all."
"Write it up," Gordon suggested, "as a novel or a screenplay. I always thought that telling stories must beat working for a living."
"It's too depressing. That's even worse than the sort of tragedy we discussed because of Gabriel. I searched the idea on the net, and was surprised to find out there's an actual expression for it – unrequited love. If I write something it's going to be happy," Lee vowed.
"I've heard that expression before. But I'm not sure where," Gordon admitted, "from Shakespeare maybe? It does seem like a good theme for a pity party."
"So Talker is easing back in their good graces?" Lee asked of his call.
"Who knows? Timilo is like a light shuttle, with one thruster stuck on," Gordon said, and made a wild corkscrew motion in the air with one finger.
* * *
When they departed for Fargone the Caterpillar ship didn't follow. That was a relief since its presence shadowing them made everyone uncomfortable. The trip was totally uneventful. Fargone hadn't changed visibly in a year. However, their perception of it had changed a lot. Their restrictive immigration policies, and strict screening even for visitors, made more sense now that Gordon and Lee had visited Central and had it explained to them that Fargone, like Central and Home at Sol, had life extension therapy – for citizens.
Before, it seemed unnecessarily controlling, perhaps even repressive, but with their new knowledge it just seemed smart and vital to their long-term survival.
The divide between Earth, where life extension was outlawed and suppressed, if not outright demonized, and the space powers that embraced it, touched every aspect of life. Planning on a much longer life changed attitudes on more than personal relationships. It colored what risk one would accept in business, in safety, and in investments. It made terraforming a world something that could see a payoff within your own lifetime, not something for your great-great-grandchildren.
In the case of Fargone it meant that slowing down population growth was more important than a quick return on investment and expanding land use as fast as possible for maximum returns. Exactly opposite of the program the Claims Commission on Earth pursued, that maximized the flow of wealth from new worlds into the Earth economy.
It meant excluding the sort of political factions found on Earth that rapid immigration would import. Their self-interest now was to keep a majority of people with life extension and a very conservative political climate that would allow them to slowly build a world and government that suited their needs.
Organic population increases would give them as much growth as they wanted, so they could be very picky about immigrants. They needed people offering unique skills or abilities. The default choice when in any doubt seemed to be to reject applicants.
That was all very agreeable to Gordon and Lee, as long as they were on the short list to be accepted.
They docked and made arrangements for their ship. It was a measure of how comfortable they felt at Fargone that they took a local commercial shuttle down. They didn't take a security detail or feel the need of their own shuttle as a line of retreat. Everything from the dock access to the automated taxi that took them to their hotel was clean and efficient. To Lee it was a contrast with the shabbiness of Earth.
Admiral Serendipity Duvochek Hawking agreed to see them without demanding an agenda. That bode well, but they were surprised to be told to come over immediately although it was past local noon. A day or two wait would not have surprised them. They were escorted to a comfortable small room, with nothing overtly military on the walls, and no desk or wall screens out and ready to be used. Not his office they'd been received in before their voyage. That suggested he was receiving them as personal guests rather than officially. That didn't speak as well for their purposes.
"The Admiral is on a call, but instructed me to make you comfortable, and said he won't be long. May I get you any refreshment?" the fellow asked. His name tag said Kindly Jefferson after the strange Fargoer manner of naming. Neither of them knew exactly the young man's position or title. He didn't seem to have rank tabs and his necklace looked decorative. Was he an aide or secretary? But what did it matter?
"A coffee will do nicely," Gordon allowed.
"Coffee is good, make it a mocha if you have it," Lee requested.
The man nodded and departed the room. Lee had no idea if that nod meant yes or no. She'd drink whatever he brought. She and Gordon said nothing, looking around the room, both too unsure of their privacy to chat idly and accidentally give too much away.
They had their drinks and were left alone. Lee had no doubt if she called out someone would come. The Fargoers tended to heavy furniture and leather. She liked that, but had seen what vacuum exposure did to leather. She thought about it and made a note on her pad to explore what sort of treatment would protect it. If they were snooping on her it had to be disappointing.
When Serendipity arrived, it was through a different door than the one they'd entered. Lee caught a glace and saw the rear of a desk. It might be the office where they'd talked before.
The Admiral didn't offer a handshake or other contact, just sat down heavily on a big chair facing them. He seemed a bit frazzled.
"Did we come at a bad time?" Lee asked, politely
"There's never a good time anymore," Serendipity said with a dismissive wave. "I'm near the point of telling them all to go to the Devil and take my retirement. I probably should have done so four years ago when I qualified, but it's hard to step aside when you still have a hand in and can influence things."
Gordon was shocked at his blunt assessment to outsiders, but Lee took advantage of it.
"Oh good, that makes our request easier," Lee said, putting on a pleased face at his revelation.
Serendipity for his part was still skeptical enough to be cautious at her sudden pleasure.
"Ha! If you're here to recruit me in my retirement, you'll find my demands dear," he warned her.
"I don't want to be accused of trying to bribe you," Lee said carefully. "But if you were free, I'd love to have you sitting in the command chair of a heavy cruiser on our next voyage of exploration. I remember the hammer on your desk. I don't believe they give those away to nut lovers, to make cracking a snack easier."
"Perhaps a few enemy heads," Serendipity allowed. "I've been piloting that desk long enough a starship bridge would be a vacation. Not to mention I'm aware all our crew who signed on with you came back with shares that will make them very wealthy. But I wasn't aware you had a spare heavy cruiser in need of crew."
"If I need another I'll buy it," Lee said, to remind him she had the means to do that. "Or commission Gordon to steal it for me."
That got a smile. He could well imagine that happening, given Gordon's reputation.
"What do I have to do to ingratiate myself to you that thoroughly?" Serendipity asked, his face still firmly skeptical. "You should be aware I put Fargone ahead of my own welfare or treasure."
"Of course, I assume you took oaths. I wouldn't propose anything that isn't advantageous to both Fargone and us. But sometimes people can be slow to see their own advantage, and they must be informed," Lee said.
This wasn't at all how Gordon intended to present their case. But Lee seemed to have piqued Hawking's interest, so he sat back and let her talk.
"Our agreeing to have your ship and spox accompany us was beneficial, wasn't it?" Lee asked.
"It did us no harm," Serendipity agreed. "Although I'd like my heavy cruiser Murphy's Law back in our service, and not off several months voyage away from home."
"But your captain saw the value of staying, and they are establishing a relationship with an entire multi-species star traveling culture on behalf of Fargone. They are there making advances in communications and learning better what items of trade will be desired. You are going to be positioned far better than any of the other worlds in the Human sphere to take advantage of that. Even better than Derfhome, because we don't have the ships to take full advantage of the discovery."
"True, but you should be over selling these things to Commerce," Serendipity said. "I'm concerned with defense and those things are outside my deep interest, or the mandate of my office."
"Oh, perhaps we should have taken a freighter and traders along, instead of a war ship and a government spox," Lee said.
"At the time, there was less certainty," Serendipity said, a little irritated at her jab. "We always want to eliminate the possibility of threats before we worry about profits. But now I see no need to continue sending warships to the Badgers and their friends. I can't see them as a threat from what I've read of your reports. However, if you go haring off in a new direction into the unknown I'd do the same again."
"Fair enough, but you do allow we've been good allies?" Lee asked.
"Yes, but we've certainly carried our weight too," Serendipity reminded her. "We put forces into the Derfhome system to protect your interests, even though the Red Tree Mothers wouldn't make explicit requests for our aid. There were those who wanted to withdraw and see how they handled it if the North Americans got aggressive with them again."
"That was an act of friendship," Lee agreed. "It served the North Americans and other Earthies as well. Perhaps better than us, even if that wasn't your intent."
"How so?" Serendipity asked, scowling.
"The Mothers stood ready to wipe most of North America, certainly the most important parts, down to the bedrock. They don't play at war," Lee reminded him.
"If you actually did that, I don't know how we could ever feel safe while Red Tree existed."
"You mean you wouldn't consider that an option if Earth seriously threatened your existence? Lee asked. She managed to look sincerely unbelieving.
"I couldn't discuss that," Serendipity admitted.
"Don't be hypocritical with me," Lee said. "You just have a harder time seeing that as a possibility. You have more ships, and an entire planet. But if the North Americans nuked Capital City here, the entire district around it, you'd lose what, twenty percent of your population, effectively all your government, and most of the critical industry? I can't believe you'd let that pass without striking back."
"Yes, there are contingency plans for such things," Serendipity admitted. "There are after all contingency plans for just about anything you can imagine. Although there are a range of responses prepared and updated continuously, all far short of wiping out the entire continent, starting with just a local strike removing Vancouver and decapitating their government."
"You have the assets to afford that luxury," Lee said with a shrug. "You have room to escalate. The Mothers have doubts they would get more than one strike through, so they would need to make sure they removed the danger at once. I've made that less likely by offering them an island on Providence, so Red Tree has more than one location. It makes North American aggression less likely, if they have to eliminate multiple locations simultaneously. We haven't talked about it, but I'm sure the Mothers appreciated your protection. However, asking for it would make them effectively Fargoer vassals."
"Hmm... Perhaps," Serendipity allowed. "I can see where they'd feel that way from their perspective, even if it wasn't our intent."
"We'd like to continue to have closer relations with Fargone. Red Tree is the strongest Derf clan in space, and confidentially, we expect it to take a lead in change to bring all of Derfhome into wider contact with the interstellar community," Lee revealed.
"Well, that was sweetly said," Serendipity said. "Is this going to be gradual or should I expect a revolution on Derfhome?"
"The war with North America made the Mothers aware they must deal with the outside world. Negotiating a treaty with North America was very instructive. They also have a new Third Mother who has made them aware of inequalities on Derfhome itself. They intend to move toward integrating the city dwellers and traders into the law and customs of the Keeps. They know the change has to be on both sides. I'm confident this will actually prevent any need of revolution," Lee told him. "We heard these things when we last visited Red Tree without instigating them ourselves, though we'll support them."
"So, what do you want, some grand gesture?" Serendipity asked. "Again, I'm not running the correct department for diplomatic overtures. If you want some big public announcement with memorandums of understanding, and trade agreements, the Space Navy doesn't do that."
"Nothing so public, we simply wish for certain key people to have interests in both Derfhome and Fargone. We understand from talks we had with peer Lady Lewis at Central that Fargone has a special relationship with the Kingdom of Central and Home, and has a number of dual citizens of both, indeed a few people being citizens of all three. We'd like to expand that net to include Derfhome. We intend to institute life extension medical treatments for our Humans, and adapt the technology to Derf. Far better we partner with you for that than distant Home. For a start to make those things happen Gordon and I both wish to become Fargoers."
"Ahhh . . . You know there is an immigration board and applications?" Serendipity asked. "You could have gone straight there and applied without me."
"Yes, but be realistic," Lee pleaded. "Such boards have inertia. They quickly get habits in how they process things and don't look beyond the forms to wider considerations and exceptional circumstances when coming to a decision. You understand that we already have a relationship with Fargone. You have the influence from within to point those things out that an official processing an application form may not know. How many know about your ship's presence in our fleet on our voyage? Was it in your news? How important would they think it? It's not the sort of thing for which you have a box on an immigration form to tell them. In occupation, do I write on their immigration form Explorer of the Deep Beyond? They'd think me a mental case."
Gordon finally spoke up. "I'm not even sure they would accept an application from a non-human. Do they even have a box to indicate your species?"
"The immigration people are there to delay and deny," Serendipity admitted. "That is their function, not to promote. We've never needed or wanted a large influx. They are probably not selected for imagination, and a certain bias for normality might not surprise me. While I greatly admire Gordon's skills at hijacking starships and as a fleet commander, it may be difficult to present as a desirable skill set to an immigration officer."
"So you can see the wisdom of us coming to the highest level contact we have established inside Fargone government," Lee said
"Yes... "he said reluctantly.
"If you are truly tired of looking for the pony, why not do your world one more service and help us tie Fargone and Derfhome a little closer?" Lee suggested. "What can they do to you? Get miffed and force you to take the retirement you are contemplating anyway?"
"What is this pony of which you speak?" Serendipity asked, suspiciously.
Lee related the story that a horse lover and a true optimist, faced with a huge stall full of horse manure to muck out, dug in with a will and started shoveling, because with all this horse crap there must be a pony in there somewhere.
"Indeed, I've been looking for that pony for some time now, unaware that's what I was doing. But this would best be done quickly, while your exploration and our involvement with it are fresh in the minds of people who pay any attention to such things. I think it is worth doing," Serendipity agreed. "You have looked at the usual immigration application forms I suppose?"
"I have copies of them on my pad," Lee said, patting the device on her belt. "I have to say however that a lot of blanks stayed blank or were marked DNA."
"Give them to me," Serendipity Hawking requested. "If you file them normally they'll just come back to you after about a month delay with instructions to fill every box, whether such data exists or makes any damn sense at all. If an armed Naval Attaché in dress uniform hand delivers them to the director's private secretary, chained to his wrist, and demands a signed receipt for them it will get their attention. I'll attach a cover letter that will make the old boy call me directly, if his head doesn't simply explode when he reads it."
"You must know him personally to refer to him that way," Lee guessed.
"Indeed, I do. Director Yberra . . . is perfectly suited to his job. I can't guarantee he will listen to me, but I can pretty well guarantee he'll call and speak at me," Hawking said with a grimace. "Sometimes I envy the Derf acceptance of assassination to settle political matters."
"All we can ask is that you try," Lee said. "What can we do to help, short of facilitating that assassination?"
* * *
"We are delayed several days," Gordon informed Timilo by drone message. "We were consulting with Admiral Hawking about his ship that was left at Far Away and our future plans. He kindly arranged for us to have an interview on the planet news net, and record several short segments for release after we return. It should help public support for Fargone's involvement in exploration. The fact you are already seeking to buy Fargone equipment, and not just from New Japan, is also very persuasive. People like to hear they're going to make money."
Chapter 4
Gordon suggested he sit on a pad to be lower and seem less intimidating. That had always helped in his experience with Humans, who had a fight or flight gut reaction to him. The young woman running the set, who was just introduced to them as 'Blondie', insisted she was well aware of the visceral reaction some people had to Derf. However she told him to trust her judgment and sit on a low platform. "Animals sit on the floor," she insisted. She also made them switch so that Lee was closest to the interviewer, and put Lee on a stool that put her eyes up at the same level as Gordon's.
The interviewer would have his eyes at the same level too, but sitting behind a broadcast desk that hid his seat. That was necessary to visually establish his authority. Gordon and Lee did not have to establish authority, she informed them. It would flow to them from the news anchor with whom the viewers were familiar, and he had excellent trust ratings. They were to be open and leaning back relaxed, to show this was not an adversarial interview. The camera would establish that at the start, and then pan in and show them in more detail as the show progressed.
Gordon looked around while minions ran back and forth with much hand waving and forming brief groups to confer and then scatter. What exactly they were doing he couldn't tell. How could there possibly be that much to do? The studio itself wasn't at all what Gordon expected. The room looked almost normal, like someone's living room, with all the lighting and audio equipment lost to the gloom of a high ceiling. He wondered if there was a control room with monitors for the cameras somewhere or if it was all automated? When he looked over at Lee her face was softly illuminated, but he couldn't tell where the light was coming from, and he had no lights shining in his own eyes. It was pretty slick.
The set must be permanent and dedicated to Bode's show, Gordon decided, because his broadcast desk facing them was more like a throne than an office desk. The wall of graphics behind it wasn't a prop, it seemed to be on the actual wall, built in place rather than something that could be wheeled out so the studio could serve a different show. Indeed the double doors opposite their entry didn't look like they could pass the desk through.
Blondie was very unhappy Gordon had nothing but his voyage rings to show he was a sentient tool user - her exact words. The fact he would be talking did not satisfy her. "You have to show them," Blondie insisted. She was however happy once she spoke into her pad and they were quickly supplied with a small table between them with coffee. Gordon promised to hold the cup in front of him most of the time while they talked and only set it down occasionally.
Bode Benjamin stalked onto the set and thrust his hand out at Gordon. Humans hardly ever did that with him. He gave him a true hand and had it pumped vigorously. The man just radiated a hyperactive personality. He turned and did the same with Lee, which Gordon had noticed grown males very rarely did with her, any more than they did so with him.
"We aren't tightly scripting this," Bode said, fixing them with his intense gaze. "You aren't selling used ground cars or in politics, so don't try to lie. Leave that to the professionals. The public is both smart and stupid. If you are a fake they will sense it, even if they are not smart enough to know why they formed that opinion. If you are possessed of a sense of humor don't be afraid to crack a funny. People like that, and it helps them identify with you. If there is something you don't like about Fargoers you can say so, just don't keep coming back to it so it gets tedious. If there is something you genuinely like about us, well, that's a gift. You can always make fun of our names. We're used to that. Do you have any questions?"
"Is this your real personality, or is this something you put on in front of the camera?" Lee asked.
"What you see is what you get," Bode admitted with a smile to rival Gordon's. "I've been told it wears some down, at least according to my ex-wives, but you won't be with me long enough to tire of it, one may hope."
"I understand," Gordon said, with a knowing nod. "The camera diminishes everything. The viewer sees you in a box, so to speak. Most will view you less than life size. So if you give off all this energy it's to the good. Not all of it will leak through to the viewer."
"Exactly." Blondie said, surprised at his perception. "Most people learn to hold it in and don't project. Starting with their mother telling them to use their inside voice. That works well face to face, but it comes across plain white bread with no butter through the camera. My dear, could you bring that lovely knife around a little more to the front? And don't keep it covered up with your arm all the time either."
"It won't put people off?" Lee asked.
"I predict we'll have a hundred inquiries about it on the net site, and some smart manufacturer will quickly knock off a passable copy and sell them. Fargoers like knives, but they're rarely that pretty."
"Maybe I should have worn an ax," Gordon said.
"Sweet gods, yes, do it next time," Blondie told him.
Once they took their places Blondie called out with an authority that hushed everyone. Most of the mob hurried out the doors, and there was a countdown to air-time. The studio finally displayed some equipment, several small cameras dropping to eye level from above. They were not much bigger than a belt phone and positioned so one camera didn't show another. When the show started the cam showing Bode panned.
The camera really only showed them intermittently between recorded feed. The show was less about dialog and more about their trip as an adventure. Their images of the crystal forest, on one of the brown dwarf satellites, was shown all out of proportion to its importance. The images of the abandoned Centaur buildings were featured too, and Gordon was impressed with how tiny even Derf looked against the wide base of the towering planet shield generator. other things, like the piles of junk were not nearly as impressive and cut down to a quick shot of the alien motorcycle being loaded up to remove.
Gordon was impressed with the fact all this editing was done overnight. There were thousands and thousands of hours of video they brought back. He certainly hadn't seen all of it himself. He had no idea that they apparently had endless hours of cute Badger cubs playing. He wasn't sure why, but they showed Ha-bob-bob-brie several times, once in a pressure suit.
Lee was prompted to tell about betting with Thor about the alien pacing them, but she laughed and assured them emphatically that she didn't play poker with the Fargoers when Bode inquired, saying that games with million-dollar pots were too rich for her to enjoy.
At the end when Bode inquired about their plans to go exploring again, it was Lee who answered as they'd arranged. She acknowledged they had to delay to set up a claims organization, because Earth was uninterested in trying to administer theirs so deep into the Beyond, due to lack of support from smaller nations. Then with a single short statement, almost as an after-thought, she said that besides taking Fargoers again on the next voyage she and Gordon intended to become Fargoer's themselves before they went exploring again. That ended the interview with that thought left last in the audience's mind. Blondie said, "That's a wrap!" loudly and everybody relaxed. Except Bode. He didn't have a relaxed mode.
"Do you think this helped?" Gordon asked Admiral Hawking, who watched the show made from the production booth.
"Oh yeah, you aced it," Hawking said, surprised he had to ask. "The director said the number of viewers went up steadily as the show progressed and quite a few are still watching it. Often a show starts with a certain number viewing and drops off as people see it isn't of any interest to them, and leave. You only get an increase when folks call their friends and tell them to take a look at it. And quite a few of them were interested enough to start the show streaming from the beginning. He said he expects this one to keep getting a respectable number of views for the next week."
"Good. I'm glad we presented well," Gordon said.
"You did fine," Blondie told them. "The Badger cubs didn't hurt either. If they weren't people I'd want one for myself, they're so damn cute."
* * *
"What will we do now?" Lee wondered. "Do we have people in immigration to go lobby, or are there others like the Admiral you'd like to visit and enlist?"
"I'm pretty sure that could be counterproductive at this point," Gordon said. "You can easily over sell something. I know you're aware of that, I heard you school Talker on the very point. The anchor, Bode, took me aside and spoke to me after the show. He seemed taken with our cause and indicated he would, 'put a bug in a few people's ears.' Such a horrible idiom, but given the strength of his personality, and how well known he is, Bode may have as much influence to help us as Admiral Hawking. I think we should go out and be seen doing a little sightseeing and shopping. I'll let Blondie know we might be caught out in public if she wants a news snippet. Let's see what Bode and Hawking can do in a day or two."
* * *
Fargoers seemed to have a common gesture Gordon had never seen elsewhere. On the street people recognized them from the show, but didn't presume to interrupt them or ask for autographs like Earth people might have. Instead the common Fargoer reaction after a little start of surprise was to smile and point emphatically at them. It might have been taken for rudeness other places, but it seemed positive. Perhaps it simply meant - "I know you!" Then it was almost always followed by a brief wave.
Gordon waved back at a few and then on an odd impulse returned the point and wave on a gentleman. The fellow found that hilarious and departed with a huge grin. He didn't run it into the ground but did it a few times again as they strolled through the shopping district. He and Lee discussed it but weren't sure why it was funny. Were they saying "I know you." back? Was it self-deprecating, or a form of modesty? Whatever the case people liked it. Lee even tried it a few times with the same reaction.
They stopped for lunch at a cafe with outside seating. It wasn't very busy but shortly after they arrived the place was packed. The crowd didn't intrude on their privacy, but Gordon noticed a lot of them made brief calls, and seemed to be looking at them. The specialty of the house was a huge ground beef sandwich. Gordon ordered eight as they were two bites for him. They served him beer in a pitcher with a pour spout. Apparently they didn't get many Derf. Lee had onion rings, which she remembered from Earth, but found these better.
When Gordon asked for the check the owner came over and informed him the place was never this busy an hour before most offices let out for lunch, and rarely had a line waiting for a table. He attributed it to people seeing Gordon and Lee and wanting to eat at the same place with them. Quite a few probably sent pix off their spex to family and friends. They were thanked for the boost in business and informed lunch was free. They were even invited to stop again, any time they were in the area. Gordon had an approximate idea of what the tab would be and left it as a tip for the waiter. It felt weird to be minor celebrities, even for a few days.
* * *
After supper Hawking called them on com. He appeared to still be in his office working. It looked the same behind him as it had before they went on their long voyage.
"I need you to do something to help move your application along," he requested.
"Sure, what would you like?" Gordon agreed. Lee leaned in so Hawking would see her too, though Gordon pretty much filled the camera angle.
"I'd like you to apply to buy a house," he requested, "you or Lee, either one or both."
"Neither of us is exactly poor," Gordon reminded him. "We can pay cash for something if that gives us some sort of rights to be in residence."
"Just the opposite," Hawking informed them. "Only citizens may buy real property, and prices are kept artificially high to slow development. By applying you create a situation where failure to grant your citizenship will result in a loss of business."
"But it works to slow development to keep us out, right?" Lee said confused.
"That which is agreed upon in principle is often contested case by case," Hawking assured her.
"So we're down to recruiting real estate agents to our cause?" Gordon asked.
"If it means they get a commission on a property worth several million silver dollars Ceres they will fight for you like a rabid Wolverine," Hawking said.
"Let Lee buy one," Gordon begged off. "If we visit together we'd just end up staying together at one or the other anyway. She'll care what it's actually like far more than me."
"It can't hurt," Lee decided. "I like Landing better than any other city I've been to. If we had a place here I might actually visit. The Badgers are too far away, Earth is a hell-hole, and the Moon is too close to Earth for my comfort. I'd never feel comfortable in one of the ethnic worlds like Gabriel took me to, or New Japan. None of them would want me contaminating them anyway. I'd be happy to own an apartment in Landing if I can come and go, and it can be maintained for me while I'm not here."
"That's a good point too," Hawking realized. "You'll also be providing local employment. You'd need a caretaker couple at a minimum to keep it clean and ready for you."
"If you say so," Lee agreed. "I wasn't just thinking building maintenance. I was more concerned with security, but if that's how it's done we can have live-in help too. I was just thinking of a place in a big building. I don't need a farm."
"Yes. They call them condominiums," Hawking informed her. "That would be perfect. The development plans heavily favor them and we have some very nice large buildings right downtown. They're quite safe and close to all the best events and services. Some have decent restaurants and shops right inside if you want to avoid the hassle of going out. Many find a city view as interesting as a natural landscape. I live in one myself. The better ones have the top floors made into apartments that cover full floors and have very secure entry from a private elevator and their own air car pads."
"Wow, if you don't want to work for me when you retire you should sell real estate," Lee said. "That was a very persuasive pitch."
"I'll try to take that as a compliment," Hawking said.
"I believe that is regarded as beneath the station of a retired Admiral," Gordon told Lee.
"I'm sorry, I didn't grow up in a human society and all these fine social points go right over my head sometimes. I don't know what has more or less status, as long as it's an honest living."
"Indeed," Hawking agreed."It can be done that way too, I suppose."
"So do we go look at apartments tomorrow?" Lee asked.
"If I may be so bold, I can have someone send a few to look at on com tonight, and that will cut down on actually visiting them physically tomorrow. With a little luck you can find something and make your intent to buy it public before lunch," Hawking suggested. "That might allow it to be mentioned on Bode Benjamin's early show."
"Ah. . . I've got it now. Send them on over," Lee invited. "Do you happen to know if any have a garden?"
"Gardens, in a condo?" Hawking asked, blinking in dismay.
"That must be uncommon," Lee decided from his reaction. "We stayed in a nice apartment suite on the Moon, Earth's Moon that is, and it had a lovely garden off the great room. Decorative garden, that is not vegetables, or a Koi pond might be nice."
"Indoors?" Hawking inquired, still incredulous.
"Of course, on the Moon, Luna, it had to be inside. It was in private spaces too, not out in public spaces like a park."
"I've never heard of such a thing, but who knows? Ask the agent," he suggested.
* * *
Lee asked the realtor about gardens. She was short, rather full framed compared to most of the Fargone population, with short curly hair and spex that oddly had a strap across the back of her head. What purpose did that serve? Lee could see now she probably had Life Extension work done. She was starting to be able to recognize that in people.
"Of course dear, it has a lovely terrace that doubles as an air car pad. There are already planters with rather nice palms and some native plants by the benches. You could even arrange some more outside the windows along one side of the penthouse. I think that would be lovely to do on the side that has the lesser view of the city lights. You have to pick them with some care so they can withstand the jet-wash from landing and taking off right next to them. You also need some sort of ground cover so the dirt doesn't blow out of the pots." The Realtor held a finger up to give her a moment to deal with flying.
"B-13267 Dropping off net. Landing point in sight and going manual." Blessing said, punching the controls to make it happen. She didn't ask.
"I'll take us around so you can see the place," Blessing Evens said, slamming the stubby control stick at the end of her armrest all the way against the left stops, and threw the air car into a descending bank that had them close to vertical and pressed in their seats hard.
The building flashed by close, very close as they went around, but Lee was too busy reviewing her life before it ended to really appreciate the view.
Blessing abruptly rolled flat, and pulled up in a roller coaster arch, so she could came down at the landing pad barely off the vertical. Lee was sure they'd crash into it but the last fifty meters or so the engine pods all roared and she only thought she was pressed into her seat before. The last few seconds must have topped six Gs.
"If I let them land us on auto they take forever, and straight in so you wouldn't get to see the building," Blessing explained loudly over the engine sound. The amazing thing was it barely compressed the landing gear on contact and she cut the power so smoothly it just sprang back a few centimeters and didn't bounce at all.
In the sudden silence, she looked at Lee oddly.
"I hope that didn't bother you dear. I understand you two fly spaceships and jump to other stars. My goodness, that would scare me worse than any old air car."
Lee smiled, like it hurt her face to force it.
"The thing about it," Gordon said from the back seats, speaking for both of them, "is we go very fast, but the things we are going between are so far away they are just dots in our sky. Even when we come up on a big planet it grows slowly until it fills much of the sky."
"Oh. . . I never thought about it that way," Blessing admitted. "I have learned to not go inverted with clients in the car. It seems to upset them even if the G forces are positive to keep their butt nailed in the seat."
Well, her flying style explained the head strap for the lady's spex. "I'm curious," Lee said, forcing her fingers to unlock from the grab-bar in the dash. "What did you do before you started selling real estate?"
"Oh, I got my fifty years in the military to get a retirement. I went in right out of school. The recruiters are always looking for short hypertensive females, and the fact I had good grades and was on the gymnastics team was just icing on the cake."
"Yes, but what did you do?" Lee insisted.
"Oh, I flew cargo lifters at first, and then they took some of us short landers and sent us to school to fly close support platforms for the infantry. Nobody has ever messed with Fargone though. I spend my entire service in peacetime."
"I suspect that is entirely others' good fortune," Gordon said from the rear. "So, you learned to fly low and fast." He really didn't frame it as a question after her demonstration.
"Sure, and you are a sweet talker, but we had some nice machines," Blessing said, "Not like this slug. My instructor impressed two things on me the first day. He said when you have to approach across your own forces it's their job to keep their heads down, and if you come back with all the paint on your bottom you aren't trying hard enough. It was fun, but even with Life Extension it's a young person's game. You could still do it," she said, appraising Lee.
"I'm in love with star ships," Lee informed her firmly.
Blessing reached over and patted her knee. "It takes all kinds," she said pleasantly.
Gordon muttered something in the rear, but it wasn't really audible.
Chapter 5
The condo seemed plain, and Blessing apologized for that several times. She explained it was very recently vacant and the service that brought in furniture and art and a few odds and ends sitting around to make it look lived in and appealing hadn't got to it yet.
Lee in turn explained it looked fine to them, closer to their normal than cluttered grounder ways of living. Spacers put everything away that's not bolted down, and have nothing loose sitting around, to become projectiles in the event of sudden maneuvers. It was now a cultural habit even in structures like habitats that could never experience much acceleration.
After walking through, Lee stood looking out over the city. There was a river a couple kilometers away with nothing blocking the view. The river was big enough to have large boats on it, and there were wharves projecting out along the shore. Today there was a haze of high cloud cover, so there was no direct sunlight, but not so heavy it was gray.
"It's quite spectacular at night with all the city lights, and even a bit prettier than this in the day, when it isn't cloudy like this," Blessing said.
Lee just nodded politely and didn't say anything. Gordon had wandered off and she could see him out one window. He seemed to be going around the entire terrace looking over the edge.
"OK, you don't like it," Blessing said. It wasn't that hard to figure out. "You don't have to tell me why, but it's really not going to insult me. It's not my personal property, I'm just selling it. But if you don't tell me what the problem is I may try to show you another place that has the same defect, and waste everybody's time and patience."
"There's nowhere to have live-in help," Lee explained. "It doesn't look like I could remodel and make room for them either. I'm used to tiny cabins in ships, but I doubt a caretaker couple used to planetary living would accept the sort of cramped quarters I'm used to. That's about all you could fit in here. It's a nice apartment and a very nice city. I'm told it is a lovely planet a lot of places, but it's still a planet. I'm a spacer and I don't intend to settle down on any planet. I'll be gone for long periods and I can't see leaving it empty and unsecured. It needs to have somebody occupying it. That doesn't mean I want somebody sleeping in my bed and actually living here. Then where would they go the times I do come back? I want caretakers to see it isn't broken into to set a trap for me, or something busts and goes unreported for days."
"Oh . . ." Blessing made a little face. "Very few Fargoers have that sort of help. The cost of labor is extremely high. We've been so selective in only allowing immigrants with specialized skills and worthwhile degrees that there are very few people who will do menial work."
"I don't want menials," Lee explained. "I want security professionals, competent people who can make decisions on the fly, who will make sure nobody bugs the place or sets up unpleasant surprises for my return. The sort of people who can guard and escort me when I'm in town too.
"If you mean somebody to keep things stocked and ready like bedding, towels, and the pantry, or do maintenance, they can hire that out. I won't be here often enough to need that sort of service all the time, and I wouldn't expect my security people to do that sort of work themselves. When I'm not in residence I won't be getting it dirty. It seems like a couple high-end bots can keep up with sweeping the carpet and dusting surfaces. I won't have a bunch of bric-a-brac sitting around a non-AI bot might have trouble working around."
"You can afford to keep a high end security team in place for months at a time while you go off on these trips?" Blessing asked. The idea clearly shocked her. "Most folks who have that kind of security take it along with them when they travel."
"Admiral Hawking sent us to you. Did he by any chance go into any detail about our financial situation?" Lee asked.
"He did sternly order me not to insult you by asking for evidence you could afford the place. I don't consider it an insult. It's just the way business is done. When I started in this business, working under a leader, she'd have fired me for showing a property to anyone without prequalifying them. If anybody else but the Admiral had asked me to do that I'd have refused. I have a lot of respect for him because of his service."
"I can see the problem," Lee admitted. "It's is a local cultural thing. I didn't know how business is done on Fargone. What would qualify me to your satisfaction, so we can dismiss it as a concern?"
"Usually a third-party statement of income or a statement showing bank balances or reliable investments from a brokerage house," Blessing said.
Lee considered that thoughtfully, and took out her com pad thumbing it for voice command. "Pad, please display an approximate total to the close of business yesterday for my deposits from the Claims Commission to my accounts Ceres, and deposits to accounts with The Bank of Derfhome, including accounts they maintain dispersed off world."
"Would you like that in a list of the currencies of deposit, approximate exchange to one currency, or in grams of precious metals?" the little machine asked.
"A total in dollars Ceres will do," Lee instructed it, then got security conscious. She didn't really know this condo was clean and nobody knew they were coming here, so she added, "Display to screen only, and set view to narrow."
Lee stood looking at the screen, and Blessing was surprised it didn't have an immediate answer. That meant the problem was complex and it had to inquire of many data bases and probably buy recent data dumps off incoming star ships. It was almost half a minute before it was compiled and Lee turned the screen to let her read it.
Blessing was an old warrior and unflappable, but her eyes got big. They tracked across the number twice, double checking the number of digits despite their separation with underscores instead of commas which made them very easy to read.
"That's billions of dollars Ceres?" she asked in a small voice.
"That's cash on hand, plus or minus two percent," Lee reminded her. It was too late to ask Blessing not to say anything out loud in case there were bugs. But that was general enough it wasn't anything that couldn't be figured out from public sources.
"Some reports take weeks to trickle in. Would you like to see some estimated income figures, or have it certified and signed by my accountants? I have some real property I can pledge as collateral, and a few starships I own outright or in shares, but that sort of thing isn't terribly liquid."
"I don't think that's necessary," Blessing allowed. She recovered from her shock quickly however, and got a thoughtful look.
"You could easily develop your own building, retain the penthouse and top two floors, and make enough selling off the lower floors to pay for your own property."
"By this afternoon?" Lee asked
"Well, no. What's the rush?" Blessing asked."Are you leaving right away?"
"Soon, but despite wanting to have a closer relationship with Fargone and do more business here we have a more immediate goal. We're trying to get citizenship, and trying to buy property is just one more pressure point to achieve that. Admiral Hawking assured us that the business community wants the door opened to those willing to spend money," Lee said.
"He's got that right," Blessing agreed. "If they kill my sale to you I'll call up my district representative, who I know by name, and yell at him."
"We've been on the Bode Benjamin show to try to get public opinion on our side and we hoped to make an offer on a place so he could mention it in a follow up on his early show," Lee revealed. "Do you ever watch Bode? Did you see us on his show by any chance?"
"Honey, I'm too busy out hustling for a living to sit around the pool sipping Mimosas, and watching video in the afternoon. Besides, he kind of creeps me out. He always has this crazed look like he's on some kind of speed."
"Yeah, well it isn't something he puts on for the camera," Lee told her. "He's just the same, if not worse, talking to him off camera. He's always on, and it is kind of overwhelming."
"Half the population seems to think the sun won't come up in the morning without his help to schedule it, so you got the right guy to push your cause," Blessing admitted. "This all puts a different light on things. I see a possible solution if you don't mind spending a little more of all that money."
"That's what it's for," Lee encouraged her.
"There's a pretty regular turnover of units on the lower floors. Buy this for yourself and get a smaller condo below for your staff," Blessing suggested.
"And what if nothing comes open by the time I need to hire people?" Lee worried.
"Most folks are a lot more sensitive to price than you," Blessing said. "If you offer more than market price there's bound to be somebody in the building who'll grab the opportunity to turn a profit. In fact, you might just research which of the units you'd care to own and target them with your offers directly. That will take a little more time. This unit is held by my company for sale. We already paid off the owner and hold title, so as their agent I can give you possession today. Then we can search for another unit for your live-in help. With a little luck there'll be one with a wall against your elevator shaft, and they can add an entry in their unit, and have a direct lift between properties."
"I had no idea how that worked. Your experience is proving valuable," Lee said.
"Well, it hasn't yet," Blessing admitted. "But I'm confident it can be done that way."
"I'm convinced too. Let's do this," Lee said.
"You don't want to look at any more properties this morning?" Blessing asked.
"Blessing, I don't know real estate, but I do know once the customer says OK to stop selling. All you can do is kill the deal you just made."
Blessing just laughed, but she didn't argue either.
"Where's Blessing?" Gordon asked Lee, when he found her staring out the window.
"She's in the car printing out sales papers. Fargone has some old fashioned rules about selling real property. I just wanted to swipe my pay port past hers and she looked horrified. She said they will want a wet ink signature. I'm glad I decided to bring my Bank of Derfhome hanko along. She'll take that without going to find witnesses to a manual signing."
Lee waved a hand at the city out the window. "Do you have any idea how many planets named their first city Landing?"
"You should ask the computer, not me," Gordon said. "I can think of four, two of which don't even have air we can breathe, but if you look on the official charts and their history books this one is First Landing. I've just never heard anybody say the long form," Gordon said. "Just like a lot folks just say the sun for their local star if they can walk around under it like Earth."
"Yeah, Dad did that on Providence," Lee remembered. "Given their odd customs with names it's a wonder it isn't Glorious Landing or Dutiful Landing."
Out on the aircar pad Blessing was exiting her vehicle with a big wad of printouts in her hands and looking happy. "Here we go finally," Lee said, nodding at the approaching agent.
"I'd suggest you just go with the flow with Grounders and their strange ideas," Gordon said. "If she wants to cut a goose quill pen and write it on sheepskin, smile and humor her. We're not here to change their customs and society," Gordon said.
"Yet," Lee muttered under her breath.
* * *
After a long tirade of complaints, and personal invective, Golden Yberra lifted his nose haughtily and told Admiral Hawking, "I intensely dislike you attempting to apply this kind of political pressure to my office."
"Oh, can the bullshit, Golden. You have no basis to elevate yourself or your glorious office above politics unless you want to start a religion and claim divine guidance. I think that requires you wear a funny hat and robes, and you'd look stupid. You're actually starting to piss me off.
"Your Department of Immigration is totally a political construct. It serves the policy of the Fargone government, not some superior natural law. As such it behooves you to respond and adjust to necessary changes in that policy, and not place yourself either separate or above your masters. Our rules are not engraved in stone. Exceptional cases require accommodation. The political questions raised by these particular immigration applications are far from petty. They will affect our nation for generations to come for better or for worse.
"We could just have a computer run your department if our rules need no thought in their application. Indeed that is your only real function, to address it when adjustments are needed. If you don't understand that I'll petition to speak at the next Congress and start the ball rolling to remove you, and say why, in just those blunt terms."
"I don't understand. Why would you risk your career and put your reputation on the line for one foreign teenager and her rather strange father? What do you get out of it?" Golden asked.
"First of all," Hawking said, raising a thumb in the air. "If you are implying I get some bribe, some improper personal consideration for promoting their application, you and I will need to have a meeting before breakfast soon. You can start thinking on what your choice of weapons will be."
"No such thing implied at all," Golden said, retreating rapidly. He knew why Hawking had the second highest military award Fargone gave sitting on his desk. He had no desire at all to see if the old boy still had his touch for mayhem. "I just mean . . . I don't see how it serves the navy, not you personally. I don't see the connection to your proper interests."
"You think too small," Hawking said, and paused to let him absorb what an insult that was. "There are several significant benefits to granting both Gordon of Red Tree and his daughter citizenship, much more to the nation at large than just my department. Indeed, if your department was oriented toward actively seeking the best possible immigrants instead of stuck in the rut of excluding the less desirable you would be out recruiting people like these to come to Fargone."
"I don't see one as excluding the other," Golden said. "You make it sound very desirable, but Congress hasn't given my Department a mandate to engage in that sort of activism."
"Nobody is muzzling you from asking Congress for the authority to do so. What Head of Department doesn't want more authority, a greater scope of operations and more funding? And yet here is this vital job, nobody is doing, and clearly related to your present work, lying on the table neglected." Hawking gestured at his own desk like he could see it lying there.
Golden's eyes got big hearing what prize he'd been ignoring.
"Aren't you concerned someone in Congress may see the need and introduce a bill to create a separate department to recruit the very brightest and successful for our planet?" Hawking continued, "I'm sure it could be successfully run as a separate department if you have no interest. Which do you think would get more press and catch the public's attention?" Hawking asked. "Your department excluding a few marginal scum, who wouldn't contribute much to Fargone, or a Recruitment Department gaining a brilliant scientist for us, or a genius in business who is a self made Trillionaire? Perhaps I should run the idea past my representative. I bet she'd see the value."
Golden looked stricken beyond words. He wasn't a bold thinker but this was a straight forward and easy concept to grasp. Hawking silently waited for him to process the overload of new ideas rather than interfere with his thinking. He watched the change on the man's face go from consternation at the threat, to near panic, and then to cunning resolve.
"I totally agree and endorse this idea," Golden finally said. He was speaking slower than normal, so Hawking knew he was racing ahead mentally to formulate his response to such a radical departure from his previous thinking. Hawking just nodded, giving him time. He withdrew his thumb because the idea it represented was moot, and too far back in their conversation for a dullard like Golden to remember what he'd said.
"As you say, this seems a natural extension of my department's duty," Golden said, agreeing wholeheartedly now. "Just as I didn't see the Navy's interest, Congress may be more amenable to such a proposal coming from Immigration. I suggest you let me propose it with proper credit that you inspired the idea, though I'd welcome further suggestions about how to implement it in detail."
Hawking smiled. His role was already reduced to mere inspiration. He was sure Golden had no clue where to start, to create an internal agency to do just the opposite of everything he'd been doing for years. He'd be happy to help him.
"I have some ideas, and I have some experts in Naval Recruitment, who can share how they woo exceptional talent," Hawking promised. "However, in the interests of seeing this succeed, you don't have to credit me. The Navy, and myself personally, have more skeptics and adversaries in Congress than Immigration. I sometimes present proposals less tactfully than others expect, and unfortunately they remember. Take the gift of the idea with my blessings, please. I'm sure you'll expand on it and make it your own anyway.
"Now, as to why I'd make a start of this new process with this particular pair . . . Lee is a billionaire just with her claims from the Earth Commission before her latest expedition. Since we had a vessel accompany her Little Fleet I can assure you their findings in the Far Beyond are much larger than her previous discoveries. Indeed, although the distances involved limit the immediate impact of that wealth, the actual amounts exceed all the previous discoveries of the entire history of human exploration. She will eventually join the very exclusive club of trillionaires. I don't expect such a huge mass of wealth to be brought to us. Instead, what I expect is the nexus of human civilization will over several generations and centuries shift to where that wealth is."
Golden gaped at him. Such a big concept and change was obviously hard to grasp.
"Are you afraid Fargone will be in danger of becoming a backwater planet if such a massive shift of wealth happens?" Golden asked.
"Not if we play our cards right," Hawking insisted. "The crews of the voyage of the Little Fleet were predominantly Fargoers. We have a foot in the door already because much of their shares will come home or be filtered through Fargone banks if we stay friendly to their interests. Derfhome is also along the route from this new area to the present center of Human civilization, Earth. We need to be allies, not adversaries, with the Derf to keep our share of the flow.
"The alliance of nations on Earth forming the Claims Commission broke down over support of the smaller nations. They strained to support the pledged vessels and don't want them to be deployed at such a distance for long periods of time. It's a stupid short-sighted mistake. I think they will regret and perhaps try to rectify it. They will remain wealthy for years and years, but it will be too late. This teenager as you style her is setting up a Derf alternate to the Claims Commission for the Far Beyond that will surpass Earth in time, and we need to work with that to give our Fargone claim holders legitimacy.
"I think it's obvious that the architect of both this surge of exploration, and the shift of control of claims, would be better for us to have as a citizen of Fargone. Since she already has Derf citizenship, and ties to Red Tree, offering dual citizenship is as much as we can achieve. With larger command shares and ownership of several of the ships she has significant control of a huge chunk of wealth, of which we can get a share."
"Yes, yes, I can see she would bring more benefit to us than the cost," Golden had to agree. "And Gordon of Red Tree, he has a lesser share in these ventures, but still larger than the other partners, doesn't he? As well as his obvious influence with her."
"About half of Miss Anderson's worth," Hawking said, but with a dismissive gesture that surprised Golden. "However, Gordon has a special value all his own you can't measure in grams Ag. He's simply too dangerous to not have as a close ally. This is where their induction into Fargone citizenship does impinge on naval matters.
"When our recent times are sorted out and established written history, I expect Gordon to be seen as one of the pivotal military tacticians of the era. While the Champion of Red Tree is young and in training, Gordon is effectively their Admiral of Space Forces. Nobody is using the word, but the truth is he defeated the USNA navy. Worse, he and his Mothers were willing to destroy the USNA, willing to devastate the entire continent, if the only victory possible was a Pyrrhic one. The Mothers knew doing that would bring all the worlds of man down on their heads, but believe me, they had the will to do so.
"After the reaffirmation of the Treaty of Man, with new penalties in place, Miss Anderson and her father Gordon were outfitting their expedition. A great deal of the crew was recruited here, and we supplied things Derfhome couldn't, so they were accumulating a significant force of ships in Fargone orbit. It never became public knowledge, but my ship commanders were so terrified to have Gordon commanding such a force, so close to Fargone, that they petitioned me to remove them. I had to make a personal request of them to remove to Derfhome and outfit their vessels in shifts or remotely. Gordon is a really reasonable fellow, and worked with me. But I think you can see how much better it would be to have a commander with that sort of reputation as a Fargone citizen, tied to our interests."
"I had no idea," Golden Yberra admitted. "It's well within my authority to expedite their application," he suddenly decided. "I'll do so now, even before I, we, pursue an expanded recruitment section to my department. Indeed I can cite their induction as an example of why we need an expansion of mission to grasp such opportunities."
"When you are citing these various reasons and necessities to Congress, if you can refrain from mentioning the story about my ship commanders, even though true, I'd appreciate it. It's a bit embarrassing," Hawking said.
"Certainly, the economic considerations are sufficient on their own. Congress can grow weary and hostile to someone over-selling their case I've noticed. I'll try to avoid my plea being wordy," Golden vowed.
"Good-day to you then," Hawking said, "and thank you for your help." Completely ignoring the fact the man started the call yelling at him, and had changed direction completely.
"You're welcome," Golden said, pleased with himself. "I'll enjoy working with you on this."
Hawking firmly thumbed the disconnect and sighed. "What a flaming ass," he muttered aloud to himself.
* * *
"The fix is in," wasn't any message Gordon expected to see on his pad. He looked again to see the sender was Admiral Hawking. If he asked for confirmation of its meaning it would paint him an idiot, he decided. There was really only one possible meaning to the message.
"Thanks, we're close to going on the Bode Benjamin show again," Gordon reminded Hawking. "It's rather late to beg off, but is there anything we should be careful to avoid discussing? Could we still kill the deal?"
"I'm leaking this to Bode right after you," Hawking said. "Could you feign surprise if he informs you and the audience that he's certain your application will be approved?"
"I can't lie worth a damn," Gordon admitted. "The best I can do is to not tell Lee we are a go. Gods only know what she'll say, but how could it be negative?"
"OK, but I predict she will be put out with you, if she finds out you held the good news back just to get a rise from her on air," Hawking predicted.
"I'm not going to tell her after," Gordon said. She's put out with me over something almost daily anyway. I think it's part of being a teenager."
"Go for it," Hawking agreed. "I'll never tell on you."
Chapter 6
The set manager, Blondie, was pleased Gordon wore an ax, and a sort of sash in a bold print, with a pocket in it for his pad and a few other things. It kept her from improvising props to convince the audience he was people. Lee dressed in brighter colors in an attempt to fit in better. They had a bit of a misconception about how Fargoers dressed from their experience with space hands and the military. Walking around Landing they had discovered Bode actually dressed very conservatively, for a Fargoer.
There was a limit how many pictures of Badger cubs they could show, so after a few impressive images of discoveries not shown in their previous show, they had some serious discussion about the economic side of their discoveries. Trying to explain the scale of the resources found in terms of centuries of supply at current usage levels. Bode speculated how that could easily change and gave historic examples. Lee started to see there was more to Bode than bombast. He seemed to grasp complexity well.
Even Gordon learned some new things when Bode explained how before the Industrial Revolution in Europe it was unusual for an individual to own more steel than needed for his personal weapons. Even kings and nobles had limited resources. Then iron and steel became necessary for public works such as bridges and large objects like steam locomotives. Steel masts replaced wood on sailing ships even as steam was making them obsolete. Then the use of concrete instead of cut stone made the demand for steel reinforcing rod soar, and by the twentieth century common working people owned automobiles with thousands of kilograms of steel in each one.
"As an example," Bode asked, "might having such massive amounts of platinum group metals change usage? Could they be used in large amounts for things they never were before? Even such mundane things as cookware and plumbing and larger items like rocket nozzles. No reason to limit it to jewelry and catalysts," Bode predicted, quite believably.
While Lee freely said they visited the Moon, and the Kingdom of Central on the Moon, she hesitated to be bring up other details. Life extension was available to Fargoer citizens, but she'd seen no public discussion of it anywhere. Would they not appreciate it if she brought it up in a public forum? She wished she'd asked Admiral Hawking, he'd have told her without dancing around an answer. Did Bode's show even make it to Earth, past their censors? So she tip-toed around the issue, and said Gordon and she wanted the benefits of Fargoer citizenship, but rather than detail what those benefits were, she moved ahead and made a case for how much of an asset they'd be to Fargone.
Bode agreed with her, but made the wider case that Fargone needed to be closer to Derfhome in general, not just have a few dual citizens like them.
"The Earth Commission foolishly cut themselves off from the Deep Beyond, along this line. It's my belief, and that of some well-informed friends of mine, that they will realize this. If they can't bring their lesser nations back into line to support the Commission we believe when they see their economy contracting they will rouse the major players either to carry the entire burden of security themselves, or change the political arrangement on Earth to force the smaller nations to comply.
"The easiest, cheapest way around a Derfhome Claims Commission would be to find another pathway to these new resources. Fargone is the only well-developed nation along the same route. I'd predict, if Derfhome can't be intimidated into dropping the control of Claims in the Far Beyond, the Earthies will try to suborn us to conspire with them and be their agent to bypass Derfhome. We already declared them unwelcome here. I think they will be surprised how determined we are not to become their vassal, getting the crumbs of trade passing through from your new discoveries to Earth."
"We don't intimidate worth a damn," Gordon said, low and menacing. "I'd have thought they might have gotten that message, but I can instruct them further." The way his hand unconsciously crept up, and grasped the ax, gave his expression weight.
"Neither do we," Bode said with a smile that was almost as scary as Gordon's. "I have lots of contacts inside government, and people who should know, assure me your petition for citizenship will be granted as a start on just such closer relations. It's just a matter of it propagating through the system now. That's a first step away from closer ties to Earth."
"Hot damn!" Lee said, and did a little fist pump.
"We haven't heard anything official," was as much as Gordon trusted himself to object.
"And I'm sure you won't, until every relevant official signs off on it, and they hang all the seals and ribbons on it," Bode said. "But privately, I am assured the fix is in," he said.
"Is that what they call a leak?" Lee asked.
Bode laughed out loud. "Indeed it is, Dear. But it's a pleasure to leak that they are doing something sensible, necessary even, for a change."
"I have to object to something," Lee said, frowning with a look of concentration.
"We're all ears," Bode said. With his intensity, you believed she really did have his full attention. He had no idea what she could be objecting to right after such good news. But his gaze on her and leaning slightly forward made the audience hang on her every word too.
"We went off along one narrow corridor," Lee said, gesturing with a long sweeping wave. "I wanted to do this because the boundary, the surface of the sphere of human exploration has been slowing down. It wasn't just a voyage to claim resources or find a living world. It was about making our civilization safer and richer as a whole. I wanted us to grasp what is unclaimed before somebody else took it from the other direction. The fact we ran into the Badgers and their allies showed me this was the right thing to do. We know there are other civilizations beyond them if not the details.
"Earth doesn't need the things we found. They could go deep just as we did off in the other direction. Indeed, if they don't, it has been my intention to do that on our next voyage of exploration. If they show any initiative and do so on their own I'll pick a different direction to expand the sphere of human exploration. There's no shortage of unexplored space."
"So you did this as a matter of principle, not just for personal enrichment?" Bode asked.
"Sure, I was already rich enough to live in luxury before we ever took the Little Fleet out. I could never spend all the interest on that wealth, much less the principal. But Human society, and all the other races in our sphere of influence, the Derf, the Hinth, the aboriginal races if they ever decide to come out of their shells, we all deserve to have a broad base of resources and not be fenced in by tight borders."
"Yes, I see other benefits to this," Bode said. "It might take centuries, it might even take millennia, but knowing human nature if we found our limits too confining in the future people have always solved that by going to war. That's a solution best avoided."
"I never even thought of that," Lee admitted. "That would be a long way off."
"You are young," Bode pointed out. "Don't frown at me, please. It's a benefit in many ways, but material to your thinking. You don't think far ahead easily. Can you hear a small critique of your plan and consider it objectively?"
"I think so," Lee said. "I'll try."
"Your discoveries may have unintended consequences, because others don't think like you. To you, having found these resources should make others want to go do the same. You are both young and bold, but other people may be more risk averse. Surely you've seen that in others?" Bode asked.
"Yes, when we came back from discovering Providence we went to our bank and there was a new guy managing our account. We had to sit and listen to him lecture us about how backing our exploration was like his bank taking the money to a casino and throwing it on the roulette table. When Gordon tried to report our discovery to him he actually held up his palm to Gordon to shut him up," Lee said, illustrating that by doing the same to Bode.
"You might not realize it, but that is actually a fairly well-known story," Bode said. "I admit, before meeting your father, Gordon, I never pictured the arrogance required to thrust a hand at his face to cut him off. But it is a classic example of mismanagement, not knowing when to shut off the pleasant sound of your own voice and listen. It's widely taught in business now."
"Oh, I didn't realize that," Lee said. "Whatever happened to him?"
"The last I heard he has a very responsible position in a sandwich shop in the Derfhome capitol," Bode said. "He decided returning to Earth was a bad idea. But please, consider that management mindset. If they know there are vast resources out beyond Derfhome and Fargone, the mind afraid of risk devalues the possibility of gaining the same thing off in the other direction," Bode said, pointing to his right, "when they have a sure thing the other way," he said pointing to his left.
Lee looked stunned and horrified.
"I see from your face I made my point. Honestly, from my perspective as a third party, I can see that they feel your view is just as wrong as you feel theirs is," Bode said. His amusement was obvious and Lee didn't appreciate it.
"Bear with me if I take this thought further," Bode begged. "If you do go off exploring the other side of Human space, Earth and their various factions are not going to see it as a grand strategy for the long-term benefit of the Human race.
"All they will see is that you have claims on that wealth instead of them, and now you have a presence both sides of them. They are surrounded!" Bode said in mock horror. "Who could blame them for defending themselves and reclaiming what should have been theirs, since it is closer to them than you? No, I'm afraid trying to expand the sphere of Human influence opposite them will only lead to worse conflict, sooner," Bode predicted.
"That sounds disturbingly plausible," Lee said. "When I was on Earth they didn't do what I expected over and over. By my standards they treated me really badly. So I have to consider you might be right and they'll act crazy about this too. I'll have to talk to some more people I trust and see if they see the same danger there you do."
"Please do," Bode urged her. "As a practical matter, if they decided to steal your discoveries, which Human governments are known to do from time to time, what could you do about it? I can assure you the military strategists here on Fargone would look at the star map and say there isn't anything we can do about it, and we have far more ships than you."
"What do you suggest then?" Lee demanded. "Just give up my idea of expanding the sphere of Human influence?"
"I suggest you give up this fixation on spheres," Bode said. "Yes, that's how we've been expanding until now, but as you said that expansion from Earth is slowing. That happens with empires. They expand, and grow old, and slow down. Eventually they shrink.
"Right now, we are a spot on the side of that sphere," Bode said, holding up a fist and touching it with a finger. "We have a long stretch you explored out to the Badgers," he said drawing a line through the air with the finger. "It's not a sphere now and it may never be such a neat geometry again. There are vast areas to each side of your line of exploration that need to be mapped. You have the entire hemisphere this side of human space to explore. Some direction off away from the Badgers may even be open far beyond them. So why go exactly the opposite way when it will certainly provoke opposition?"
"The man makes a good case for it," Gordon said, grudgingly.
"OK, we're going to have to consider all that," Lee allowed. "I guess we'll need a team to develop our larger strategy. We never had that before, because our goals seemed simple and straight forward, but you make an excellent case for some serious strategic planning. Do you want a job to manage it?" Lee asked.
"Heavens no," Bode said, holding both palms up to her. "I've pretty much given you the depth of my thinking on it. Take the idea with my blessings. You can find lots of talent on Fargone to recruit to that task. I'm very happy right where I am, and it isn't nice to try to poach personnel right on the air in front of everybody!"
"I'm still working on my social skills," Lee admitted.
"We'll have to build on that another Day," Bode said. "We're out of today."
"And cut, and a perfect wrap-up right at the wire," Blondie said, all happy.
"If you have such deep and complicated opinions about public policy maybe you should stand for election to public office," Gordon suggested to Bode.
"Why would I want to limit myself and take the pay cut?" Bode asked. "The public votes for me every time they choose to listen to my show. None of the politicians would have risked speaking as openly with you in a public forum. You better believe they see to it that all their boring speeches and debates are available in video, and none of them have my ratings."
"We have almost half again the audience our last show with you had," Blondie said, reading the numbers off her pad. "Give it a rest, because you want to leave the public wanting more, and we'll have you on again when you are visiting Fargone another time."
"Who told you we were going to get our immigration approved?" Lee demanded.
"Honey," Blondie cut in, even before Bode could answer, "consider this another social lesson for you. If you want more leaks you don't expose the people giving them or they dry up."
Lee looked stubborn, but thought about it a little. "You're right. If I had something I wanted to be widely known and couldn't say it safely, I'd leak it to Bode now."
"One more in my army!" Bode said, with his usual intensity. He really was creepy sometimes, and Lee felt a little guilty for thinking that.
* * *
On the way out, Gordon had a question for Blondie. "Sometimes when we were walking around Landing, people waved at us and then pointed at us. I know places that would be considered rude, but it seemed good natured."
"Oh, it is. That's very positive actually," Blondie confirmed.
"I figured that, but what I'm wondering . . . when I pointed back they looked surprised and enjoyed it a great deal and laughed sometimes. Why?" Gordon wondered.
Blondie laughed too, hard and genuinely. "That's lovely. I wish we had video of you doing that. It's perfect and I'd never have thought to suggest it." She scowled briefly and reconsidered. "Of course if I suggested it, that would have ruined it. The value is mostly in the spontaneity."
"I still don't understand what the pointing means," Gordon protested.
"It's not a narrow meaning you can capture in just a few set words," Blondie said. "It used to be a generation back people would say, "You go!" or maybe, "You the man!" when they pointed. But now it doesn't require any verbal tag, just point now and people understand it is very affirmative and approving."
"So I was saying the same thing back?" Gordon asked.
"Yes . . . but you have to understand, they recognized you, likely from our show. By the time you came back to do the second show today almost fifteen percent of the population had viewed our first show. You two are about as close as we get to instant celebrity on Fargone. The only thing that gets a bigger audience is soccer or this continuing romance story that makes Earthies blush when they find it on the hotel video channels. So you were saying, "You are important too!" Or maybe, "We like you guys too." it was self deprecating and modest. That's not a common quality in celebrity. It's kind of endearing. Maybe you should be the one to run for public office instead of Bode," Blondie suggested thoughtfully.
"Gods no," Gordon protested in horror. Blondie just laughed again.
* * *
"Well that worked out well," Gordon said later to Serendipity Hawking. "Lee didn't go on and on about it when Bode revealed we'd get approved, but it was a genuine reaction. I bet people could tell that."
"Yes," the Admiral agreed. "I thought the show went very well for you."
"Do you agree with Bode about the hazards of expanding the other side of Human space then? You never mentioned it when we talked to you."
"I've had similar thoughts," Hawking admitted, "but I didn't think Lee was ready to hear them yet, and likely not from me at all. I'd be very uncomfortable discussing it in an open back and forth public discussion. Sometimes policy is like sausage making, better done in private if you are going to enjoy the finished product. Bode can take a hit to an idea he throws out, and his fans seem to forgive him. Public officials say one stupid thing and people like Bode will never let us forget what we said."
"But you aren't an elected official," Gordon reminded him.
"Thank God for that, but I'm still out there on the pointy end, and if I screw up the elected officials will throw me to the wolves in a heartbeat."
"Hmmm . . . no wonder you're ready to retire," Gordon decided.
Chapter 7
"Isn't that pretty?" Lee said, showing Gordon her certificate of citizenship. "I didn't know they'd really print it. But it doesn't have any seals and ribbons like Bode was talking about."
"I thought he was speaking in metaphor," Gordon said. "It's pretty enough for me just plain." They'd delivered his too, but he was much less excited.
"What should I do with it? They gave us these," she said, waving a passport that was like a little notebook. "So I don't think they mean for us to carry the certificate around. I'd hate to fold it up and put creases in it."
"You could tell Blessing to have a safe installed in your condo, and have her hold it and stick it in there when the decorators are done," Gordon suggested, "or you could have it framed and hang it on a wall," he said facetiously.
"That's what I'll do," Lee surprised him by saying. "It's not like anybody else could use it."
Gordon nodded agreement, resolving to be more careful what he suggested in jest.
"Are you ready to get back to Derfhome?" Lee asked.
"In the morning," Gordon agreed. "I think we've accomplished everything important we wanted here. I hope Timilo has stewed just long enough to be a little more pliable. If we delay too long I can picture him trying to have us declared missing and legally dead so he can find somebody else with whom to negotiate."
"You don't like him," Lee observed needlessly.
Gordon looked concerned and thoughtful.
"I'm still in the process of trying to raise you," he reminded Lee. "You are a little bit an adult by Derf standards. You may occasionally be treated more like an adult in private human society due to being rich, and much more experienced that most other sixteen year olds, but as you saw, the courts can ignore that and strip it away."
"Like getting my spacer's documents," Lee said.
"Exactly, a lot of things you get to know by observing what others do, but I'm going to explain something explicitly. Not everybody would agree, but to me a huge part of being a real grownup and a success in life is coming to the realization you can't always get your way. There are going to be people who don't like you, and never will. You may never like them, but you will go ahead and work with them anyway, because it isn't always possible to work against them or around them."
"Like Timilo," Lee said flatly.
"Like Timilo," Gordon agreed. "I could expend a great deal of energy to try to remove him and insist on dealing with Talker. At the very best it might work temporarily until Talker and Timilo got back home in their own territory, and then it could unravel undoing everything we all accomplished to the detriment of us, Talker, and even Timilo if he was honest about it."
"How does this apply to me," Lee asked after thinking on it a bit.
"Who don't you like?" Gordon asked.
"Ummm . . . pretty much all Earthies," Lee admitted.
"How about Clare?" Gordon asked about the girl who Lee insisted be brought along with her when she was rescued from Earth.
"Of course not, she needs more education and experience, but she's a good person."
"Then perhaps your cousin and family from Michigan?" Gordon asked.
"No, they treated me very well and took risks for me even with limited resources."
"Diana and Jesus?" Gordon suggested of her one time bodyguards who worked to get her safely off Earth and beyond the Moon.
"No, not all Earthies," Lee said, irritated. "But most," she insisted.
"Well, we've established there are at least two groups," Gordon said, holding his true hands like he was weighing one in each hand. "How can I tell which is which?" Gordon asked.
"It's hard to explain," Lee objected.
"I'll wait until you figure it out and can tell me," Gordon volunteered.
"I know what you are going to say," Lee protested. "That we have to judge each person as an individual. But I'm never going to get to know most Earthies as individuals. Their culture stinks, and I think I am perfectly reasonable to treat all Earthies as being on probation with me until they prove otherwise. I have a firm statistical sample that says they are much more likely to prove unfriendly to me than people from the other worlds I've known."
"Now that I won't argue at all," Gordon surprised her by agreeing.
"But?" Lee prompted, expecting him to undo his apparent approval somehow.
"But nothing. Once burned, twice shy, and you'd be foolish not to give weight to your experience in life. If you will accept some Earthies as friends and allies after they prove themselves, then you don't have an unreasoning hatred of them," Gordon said.
"Of course, the corollary applies too," he added after a dramatic pause.
"Just to be sure, what is this supposed corollary?" Lee asked suspiciously.
"That if you can't assign all Earthies as enemies without trial, neither can you assume that any other people, Fargoers, or Hinth, or Derf are all friends and allies without some reasonable testing of their loyalties and actions," Gordon said.
Lee thought about that for a long time, trying to look back and apply it to all the other people she might not have thought to analyze that way before. All the way back, even before her folks died. She searched her memories of when they came in for resupply and visited worlds, Gordon's clan, their banking partners on Derfhome, Gwen the vet, who Gordon hired to bring modern medicine to Red Tree. The majority of people on Earth she hadn't met or categorized as friend or foe. The same with the people of the Lunar Republic and Central. She hadn't met the vast majority of these groups to form a reasonable opinion. Lee could see she had to look at things differently. She would have protested, and been insulted if Gordon had called her naive, but reexamining it there were some areas she was working more on feelings than cold logic.
When she tallied up everything in her mind, Lee was surprised to find that the group who treated her best, based on their own firm principles, and asking little in return was the Hinth. The Hinth race seemed the most alien of anybody who could talk to her, yet she had to reassign them in her mind as the most predictable. Derf were mixed, even if family, maybe because they were family. The Humans were the broadest in spectrum. The Earthies, well at least the North Americans, worst. She had to keep reminding herself that she had no real experience of other Earth Humans, there were entire nations and cultures unknown to her.
Of the people of the Lunar Republic she didn't have any firm opinions. She wasn't even certain the people she'd met from the Spacer Society at the Explorer Club on the Moon were citizens of the Republic. As for the Kingdom of Central, she'd only met a very few of the highest placed people, and she'd already decided Gabriel was sadly maladjusted and unlikely to be a stable ally or a dependable friend except on terms she'd never accept. She liked April, which Gordon was firmly warning her was not a good basis for trusting her to see to Lee's interests. It made her feel quite conflicted. Even though April had confirmed many of the things they had learned from their own Fargoer crew about the history of Home and Central and the Earth.
Lee wasn't comfortable thinking on a problem so long. It rather reminded her of when she was in jail on Earth, and went over and over things endlessly, because that's all she could do. The thing was, April had confirmed some of the things they knew. She hadn't lied to them, Lee was pretty certain, but she hadn't expanded on what they knew to any significant degree. It was short of what she expected of a friend or an ally. The more Lee thought about that, the more it irritated her. She should have demanded answers much more aggressively.
Gordon was sitting reading something on his pad and hadn't stirred the whole long while as Lee thought. Lee doubted that was coincidence. She glanced at her pad and saw it had been almost two hours since they'd spoken. She suspected he wouldn't say anything further if she didn't prod him. He also was a little secretive by nature, and sometimes infuriating the way he disconnected from a conversation that hadn't been resolved to her satisfaction. But she didn't always let him get away with it the way she'd let April avoid saying anything of substance.
"What do you think about Central?" Lee asked directly. She was sure he'd know this was a continuation of the last conversation. If he tried acting innocent and not understanding she was determined to pry it out of him tonight.
"I think that we both pretty much know the same things about Central," Gordon said. He laid his pad aside, which was a good sign he intended to engage her, and he looked at Lee. "We may have gotten different impressions, visiting them, but factually, we know almost nothing."
"Gabriel in several hours of dinner conversation and travel managed to say basically zip about his nation and masters," Lee complained.
"I'm sure he has clear orders what he may divulge to the outside world," Gordon said.
"So how did we manage to spend time with them, eat with them, and learn almost nothing new about them?" Lee demanded.
"It's quite a skill isn't it?" Gordon marveled. "I needed you to phrase it like that, to make me recognize the problem."
"It's easier for me to see how with Gabriel," Lee admitted. "He couldn't shroud his motives and feelings as well from me as well as April did with us. He was too engaged with me,"
"So, you tell me," Gordon said.
"He kept chattering and telling stories, but nothing really informative. Yet they were entertaining stories. And when he ran down he always had a question waiting for me. They all seemed to require long replies, and he kept me going into detail and expanding on them endlessly."
Gordon nodded. "Much the same for April, but I sense it's even easier to do with a group than one on one."
"She's older," Lee said. "You and Bode kept reminding me that limits my perception of things. Well she has the advantage of experience over you every bit as much as you enjoy over me. I haven't been around little children, but it must be easy to control the conversation and steer it where you want with a toddler."
"That hurts," Gordon said with a grimace, "but it may be a fair comparison. You can talk circles around a little kid if you can stay friendly. If you make one unhappy they can get very single minded, take a stand on something and refuse to be jollied, just repeating their demand over and over."
"They were very polite," Lee remembered. "And Gabriel, too friendly for my taste. It sort of irritates me to think about now, because I suspect he thought he'd be able to control our relationship for decades ahead."
"On the other hand, why do they owe us more information than we got?" Gordon asked.
"I . . . I'm not sure they do," Lee said, "but it would have been a welcome gift."
"Have they harmed us by withholding information?" Gordon asked. "We seem to be in a much improved situation than before we spoke with Central. We have our discoveries. Nobody is trying to take them away. The Claims Commission cut us loose, but we can administer them and deal with our new allies without any interference. Win or lose, it's on our own heads."
"They don't care what we do with the Earthies or these new claims," Lee decided.
"Not greatly, no. I suspect their interests are off around other stars, and they mostly keep an eye on Earth so the Earthies don't surprise them with any new problems," Gordon said. "Perhaps they keep a watch so the home world is safe," Gordon speculated. "Not for the political entities but as a reservoir of biodiversity and history."
"We're probably not as important as I assumed," Lee said.
"Indeed, I suspect you are right. Earth itself is valued, but Earth politics is not as important to Central as I imagined," Gordon agreed.
"Neither was Gabriel forthcoming about their relationship with aliens," Lee said. "He did point out they could follow us back to Earth, but they can't follow Central ships. That's one of the few useful things he accidentally let drop. Also, he worried about the aliens getting Earth excited, but expressed no concern about the aliens themselves. When I did start to get him pinned down for a response he seemed to realize it and refused to say more, complaining it was above his authority to discuss it."
"The aliens may know them, but the ones we met didn't know us, or were pretty sure we were different. Having Derf and Hinth on our ships they might have wondered who was in charge and who was crewing," Gordon deduced. "Our ships jump differently than Central's. They might have reasonably wondered if those of us who were Humans were even the same race. Humans do present a wide variation of appearances. Our weapons are superior, even if we use a similar drive system to theirs, but perhaps inferior to Central. All that could be very confusing."
"Oh yeah, if their drive systems are that much better than ours, what do you want to bet Central's weapons systems would scare the snot right out of you?" Lee asked him.
"No bet. I predict you will never see one of the alien ships, Caterpillar or the Centaurs, the Plate Makers, mess with a Central ship," Gordon said.
"You think they've tangled with them before?" Lee asked.
"Given how the Centaurs rushed at us without any hesitation I'd expect it," Gordon said. "The more so since Central seems to have dinky little ships the size of a landing shuttle. They might have gotten aggressive with them assuming little is weak."
"I really don't like this the more I think about it," Lee said.
"You'll have to be a lot more specific than that," Gordon said, looking confused.
"Central is this huge unknown in the middle of everything we are doing. We don't know how many ships they have or where they are out there. Are they going to be upset if we stumble upon one of their star systems? Will we be informed it's off limits to our armed ships just like they keep most of most of the Solar System?"
"If they own a system and want left alone I'd certainly not argue with them. We'd do the same for any aliens who wish to seclude themselves. Or like the crazy Bunnies who made it obvious we can't get along, shun them, even if they can't really kick us out."
"Well yeah, but I worry . . . it's like after you took out the Centaur's ship, the Caterpillars were very cautious. They weren't sure you'd let them send witnesses back home. I wonder of Central will let anybody leave who finds out where there's a system that's important to them?
"I think you are worrying too far in advance without sufficient cause," Gordon said. "I haven't seen any evidence they'd act like that."
"They sure seem to have the Earth nations cowed," Lee said. "They politely ask clearance to take armed ships out-system beyond L1, and the incoming explorers follow directions and land at the designated lunar field, even though they have crippled weapons systems. Yet I don't see any fleets of Central ships or orbital fortresses enforcing it."
Gordon considered that carefully before replying. "We found out a little more about their history when we visited. I'd be surprised if we learned everything. They did lose a substantial force challenging L1 limit when it was first declared. If they've tried to challenge it since, and failed, it might not be as easy to find in the public record.
"I do know this," Gordon said, "the Earthies, the USNA in particular, don't just accommodate you out of the goodness of their hearts. We certainly had to hurt them rather badly in the war before they backed down. It was a close thing at that. If these two had a nasty incident off somewhere, away from a lot of witnesses, then it would make sense for the USNA to keep quiet about the humiliation. As you've pointed out Central seems very private about everything, so they might well conclude all the parties who needed the lesson received it, and it really wasn't anybody else's business."
"That makes sense," Lee agreed. "That feels right for my take on April's personality. I wish we'd met her sovereign, Heather. There's way too much hidden there and I want to know it. We may need to know it. I'll hire a few investigators, some data researchers, spread some money around, quietly ask some questions and see what I can find out, starting here at Fargone and back on the Moon too."
"You can afford it, and I'm curious too, as long as you don't fund any aggressive espionage that would actually provoke them," Gordon cautioned.
"No, no burglary, cracking or suborning minions. We'll keep it clean," Lee agreed.
"Then I'm for bed, so we can go to the field early tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Gordon." Lee started the search in motion before she went to bed.
* * *
"I suppose we could have left the High Hopes at Derfhome and taken commercial transport here," Lee said, as they lifted for the station. "This seems safe, and civilized enough."
"The crew was happy to be active and Fargone has far more to do than Derfhome for Humans," Gordon said. "The High Hopes would cost almost as much to sit idle. It cost a bit in fuel to bring us here, nothing you couldn't afford. We only had an engineer stay aboard for security on station, and everyone else took shore leave. Don't be surprised if a couple of them look a bit rough. It's been over ten hours since I sounded recall for the High Hopes, and I saw two crew further back in the cabin, who just made the last shuttle with us. I think they've had a little too much fun."
"Oh, you didn't walk back there and say anything to them?" Lee asked.
"What's to say?" Gordon asked. "The last thing you want coming off leave hung-over is a sudden chance at trading idle pleasantries with any of their employers. They're making count and I presume they will be functional. The one may even have his eyes open by launch."
"I've never understood why people keep drinking until it makes you feel bad," Lee said. "Once taught me that lesson."
"Best to keep it that way," Gordon counseled, nodding. "It's been a long, long time, but I did it with your parents, and I remember I still felt fine when we stopped drinking. It's often the next morning it hits you that you've overdone things, when it's too late."
"Do Badgers do that?" Lee wondered idly.
"I've no idea. I can't imagine sufficient alcohol not aversely effecting most organisms. Ask Talker when we get back," Gordon said, "he'll give you an honest answer."
While they were still lifting Gordon's phone must have vibrated. He pulled it out and read something before putting it away.
"The Caterpillars won't be there when we get back. They seem to have figured out not much was happening and took off."
"On a Far Away vector?" Lee asked.
"No, oddly enough they seemed to be aimed at the first jump for New Japan," Gordon said.
"Oh, maybe they'll pick up some sushi up on the way home," Lee quipped.
Chapter 8
Lee and Gordon arrived in the middle of the off-shift and took rooms at Derfhome station. There wasn't a commercial shuttle dropping until the morning, and they had no desire to sit up waiting for it or stay in a cramped ship's cabin.
"Do you want to go out to the Keep then?" Lee wondered. They were long overdue to talk to the Mothers about their voyage and visit to Earth.
"No, it takes me a few days to be functioning at a hundred percent and feel alert once my clock is off the local time. I don't want to deal with the Mothers if I'm at all fuzzy. I want to spend a couple days and do some business and deal with the fleet by com. What's the hurry?" Gordon asked.
"None I guess. You'll be working on com at the Keep too, but the Mothers won't interrupt you, knowing you'll be along soon. I have some work to do too," Lee agreed.
* * *
Lee was up first and had a light breakfast. She figured she'd have more when Gordon finally woke up. He always ordered enough that what she took was insignificant. Talker caught her still nibbling on toast with orange marmalade and savoring her coffee when he called.
He had the oddest expression on his face. Lee had spent enough time with the alien to read his expressions, but this was different. Well, no. She'd seen this before, Lee decided, but only as a quick flash of amusement or pleasure, not held steadily like a mask.
"Did we do something to amuse you? Your expression . . ." Lee said, drawing a circle around her own face by way of explanation.
"You? No, not at all," Talker assured her, doing the Badger grin even harder if that was possible. "Our glorious envoy Timilo has gifted me beyond all my expectations, and I was able to repay his kindness to my pleasure. Thor informed me there is a vulgar Human idiom for such a pervasive grin." Talker reached and tried to smooth down the corners of his mouth, but it didn't change a thing. "But Thor sternly charged me not to repeat it, to preserve your youthful innocence."
Lee gave a little snort of derision. "That sounds like Thor," she said, peering at him suspiciously. "You've become best buddies with Timilo in our brief absence? Or did he suddenly drop dead? Do Badgers do that?"
"They do on occasion, although our medicine is not that far behind yours. A sudden shock can leave one dead, as I understand happens sometimes with Humans. Alas, he did not expire, but he was rendered temporarily speechless, which must seem nearly as bad to him. Do Humans have a state of shock where they are momentarily rendered unable to respond, but still conscious?"
"I think all Earth mammals have some kind of shocked state," Lee said. "Make a note on your pad to look up video of fainting goats. I think they will amuse you. You might also use the term flabbergasted. That's a mental state often associated with being inarticulate."
"I never spend a day with you but what I improve my vocabulary," Talker said.
"So, please explain this sudden joy," Lee begged.
"Timilo was stuck between conflicting interests. He couldn't see any way to deal with Gordon and your new arrangement for claims that would discredit my work. Everything that was already arranged and set in stone had the taint of my hand on it. When we returned home there would be questions why he didn't remove me and bring me home in disgrace, that being the original intent. Indeed if he used the arrangements I made, then the whole purpose of his following after our original delegation would come into question. But if he killed everything I gained and came home with nothing it would be even worse."
"Well yeah," Lee said. "I thought the whole thing was stupid from the start. Gordon doesn't put up with foolishness very well. He might just send Timilo off empty handed, and I wouldn't be disposed to argue with him if he decided that's how to play it. We're pretty much of the same mind, but I have been letting him deal with Timilo because he's better at dealing with that sort of obstructive personality. Gordon can put the fear in him far better than me."
"But chasing after us is the sort of thing that had to be justified at all costs, or it is a career killer," Talker said.
"His problem, of his own making," Lee said, without sympathy. "The Mothers would probably solve this sort of problem with assassination."
"Thank goodness we're not Derf," Talker said, "Timilo would accept that as a quick and tidy solution I'm sure, but apply it to me. His solution springs from the mind of a bureaucrat. The really awkward moment for him would be if we returned to Badger space together and I was available to be questioned side by side with him. Without me, he could spin it any way he pleased, and he's good at that. So he contrived to leave me behind."
Lee frowned at Talker. "How could he do that? He isn't your boss back home to be able to order you to stay behind here, is he?"
"You are so quick for such a young person," Talker complimented Lee. "No, his political bureau is distinct from the judicial agency that employees me. He's basically a policy maker, and it's largely an internal office. When we met other races it was never deemed important enough to create a new agency, and his group though powerful internally, is not large. They never had an arm with sufficient personnel to administer directly, they've always passed orders through other departments to enact. They have appointed ambassadors to the home worlds of other races, but Far Away is a Badger world, the judiciary dealt with the other races present for them, rather than them having their own dedicated office on world. They just failed to predict an entire new set of aliens would show up resulting in my having entirely too much local authority to deal with them."
"So, what sort of handle does he have on you to get you to stay?" Lee demanded.
"He declared I should accept an appointment to become the first ambassador to Derfhome and their allies. He laid it on thick about how it was my obligation given my unique experience. He can frame such a guilt trip most eloquently. I'd have to be an absolutely horrible selfish person to refuse it, to hear him tell it.
"This would make me firmly his subordinate in his agency. He also framed the position as more important than my present one, but they are really roughly equivalent in my view. I just ignored that slur on my present position rather than get side tracked. He rather over-sold it really. I think he expected a huge argument from me, but instead I went directly into discussing what sort of support and compensation I'd have here. He wasn't prepared for that. I think I got a lot more out of him than he'd have offered various concessions bit by bit to try to recruit me."
"So you accepted?" Lee asked, shocked.
"Indeed, I'd have been an idiot to refuse. I arranged to have my family join me and very good support to live well while we are here. I have rights to transport back and forth for visits home and household items to be transported in the embassy supplies. We shall retain a small staff of my choosing from the Badgers still here. When I named a personal cash allowance I thought he was going to hurt himself forcing a smile, but he managed to make a gesture that is your equivalent of nodding yes." He demonstrated with his hand.
"Wow, your daughter, Tish, is going to be thrilled," Lee realized.
"That is a factor I considered. It will be a very good experience for her, and a boost to whatever her career becomes. My father, though a gracious host, will undoubtedly welcome a smaller, quieter household. Grandchildren are a greater joy as an occasional treat than every day. My wife will enjoy managing her own household. There are so many pluses. Perhaps when it comes time to leave we won't have to burden my father again."
"But I could tell you liked your old job," Lee said. "You'll miss being the Voice of the Court."
"How odd," Talker said, looking at her intensely. "Timilo made the same assumption."
"Huh, what assumption? You've lost me," Lee admitted.
"Being the Judicial Voice is a lifetime appointment, and none of Timilo's concern. Why would I step down from it? I have a deputy who has complained for years I didn't pass along enough important readings for him to perform. With my new earnings I can even afford to allow him the larger allowance as Acting Voice, and just take the smaller deputy pay for myself. I'm not technically obligated to do so, but it makes me look very good and generous to everyone involved. Timilo undoubtedly thought I'd have to resign to avoid looking greedy, but taking the lesser pay avoids that nicely, while saying I still very much value the office to everyone. Of course he'd have never thought to do anything so moderate himself. The Deputy Voice pay at half my usual allowance is still a considerable mass of silver every year.
"Even if Ha-bob-bob-brie had not gifted me with a half share from the Little Fleet I would eventually have enough from these positions to buy my own estate."
"Oh, my God . . . You're double dipping!" Lee exclaimed. "That's great, because it may be awhile before our new Claims agency starts making payments."
"Another English idiom?" Talker blinked and considered it. "Yes, it does roll off the tongue nicely, doesn't it?" He seemed pleased. "Retaining my other position gives me alternatives. It makes me more independent than just relying on the dubious kindness of Timilo in the future. Undoubtedly, he sought to make me entirely dependent upon him. Instead it elevates me above other deputies who don't hold multiple positions in distinct agencies. Such a thing is regarded as a sign of superior ability. If Timilo treats me poorly I can reclaim my full office, and I've not forgotten that if all else fails you offered to put me to work."
"Yeah, in Human management a guy who belongs to a whole bunch of governing boards of corporations, and things like charities and universities, is seen as pretty hot stuff," Lee said. "It's good for you to have a back-up position."
"Interesting . . . Do you have back-up positions?" Talker asked Lee.
"I do, but I didn't exactly plan them," Lee admitted. "I have the hospitality of Red Tree clan available. I suppose if I stayed put there for very long they'd put me to work and keep me busy as well as welcome as a guest. I have my own lands on Providence, even if my Claims income would get cut off. I can't picture them seizing that sort of physical private claim. I'd have to build something to live there. I just haven't got around to doing that yet.
"Gordon and I have Fargone citizenship now. That's what this trip just now was about, if Gordon didn't tell you. I have no idea yet what all the obligations and benefits of that are going to be. I did make sure they don't tax money made off-world. Anything else they want I won't sweat. But it's another place I know where they have to accept me. I even have a real passport.
"If you'll remember, I also have the hospitality of Par Goy on his estate. I'm not sure what your dad would do with me as a long-term houseguest, probably put me to work like the Mothers would, but it's a place to belong. I could drive tractor for his farm."
"Indeed," Talker agreed, ignoring her tractor proposal. "He tends to find all sorts of chores and errands for me if I have so much as a day off being Voice. It's part of being family, to be at his call, nothing about it implying you are a burden or lack initiative. He just places little value on idleness.
"You friended me," Talker reminded her. "You were irritated with me for not recognizing that by your actions rather than your formal word. I'd like to not make the same error again. Since she will be coming here I'd like you to tell me explicitly, do you feel the same about Tish?"
"Oh my, yes. Why would you doubt that?" Lee wondered. "You saw me give her a gift to mark our friendship, and I promised her free passage on my ships. I even mentioned to you that I intend to gift her with land when the time is right. No need to tell her yet though."
"Ah . . . well, I took that as a possibility, not a promise. I didn't want to build something in my mind that isn't there. You only spoke with her a handful of minutes."
"We visited more, later, in your father's library. You might be surprised to know she composed two lengthy messages to me before the second group under Timilo followed you here and gave them the files to deliver," Lee revealed.
"Whatever would she have to write about?" Talker asked, surprised. "She isn't pestering you for favors is she?"
Lee laughed out loud. "She's been listening to all the news feeds and reading some of the better known political writers. She's advising me about the mood at Far Away, as much as can be told from public sources on your home world."
"And you take time to read political commentary from a nine-year-old?"
"I found she cut to the heart of things better than some adults," Lee assured him. "She said Timilo was sneaky and every time he spoke publicly she was more convinced he was the sort of person you couldn't trust with a pantry key."
"Well, perhaps she is a good early judge of character," Talker allowed. "I can't fault that analysis, or have expressed it more succinctly."
"Wow, all these changes! I was worried when we came back from Fargone that Gordon and Timilo would go at it with each other and there'd be this huge conflict and argument. That maybe they'd even go home in a tiff with things left hanging. He'll be very pleased with you being left here to represent the Badgers."
"There will be a few Bills also," Talker said. "They want to see to their own interests. Singer has already agreed to stay, and I find myself regarding him as an ally far more than I ever thought possible."
Lee scowled so hard it was easy for Talker to read her expression, and that alarmed him.
"Is that a problem somehow?" He asked very directly.
"It could be," Lee admitted. "Gordon has not been amused when your internal rivalries made it difficult to deal with you. Remember when you and the Bills wouldn't work together to do a side survey? He came very close to cutting you all loose to find your own way back home.
"We understand seeing to your own interests, to a point. Perhaps he has such strong feelings about it because Humans treated the other races they found so badly. Or at least in the case of the Derf they tried to treat the Derf badly. They simply wouldn't stand for it.
"So I have this advice for you. It's great if you are getting along with Singer better, but don't try to cut your other minor races out completely and do them dirty. If you try to do that it's going to come back on you and hurt worse than letting them have a little cut of the action in the first place.
"I have a sense of fairness just like Gordon, but he has no sense of humor about it at all. Once he decides he's being obstructed and is determined to fix something like that, you don't want to be in the way. He tends to want to deliver a message in the correction that discourages the same thing from ever happening again."
"I'm not sure how to do that sufficiently to satisfy Gordon. I'm getting closer to Singer, but not certain at all the other Bills will cooperate," Talker said.
"Make it somebody's full time job to include them. Not just the Bills but all the others," Lee said. "And give them some teeth to enforce it, not just an empty gesture."
Talker's grin got even tighter. "Yes, yes. That has the advantage it will also drive Timilo insane. And I can blame it all on you and Gordon, because he can't touch either of you. Indeed I can cite your moral imperatives and history and he can't really frame a rebuttal in terms of our own history or mores, because they simply don't apply."
"I'm happy to be a hammer in your hand, in this case," Lee agreed. "I won't say anything to Gordon. When he gets up you can have the pleasure of telling him yourself."
"Thank you. I'm enjoying having some good news."
* * *
Gordon chugged down a two liter mug of coffee so visibly steaming that Lee doubted she could sip it without burns. Then he put honey in the next mug and slowed down enough to enjoy it. Once he had breakfast ordered, and stopped the little hum he did under his breath, Lee felt safe to talk to him, and know he'd remember.
"Talker has some news for you," Lee said. "Nothing that's an emergency, so I promised I'd let him have the joy of sharing it with you. He might be shy to risk calling too early if you want to let him know you're up."
"Oh yeah, Timilo got him to take a job as ambassador," Gordon said, unexcited.
"How could you possibly know that?" Lee asked.
"I got up in the night, drank a bottle of orange juice and looked at my messages. Timilo left it as an urgent message. The idiot would have waked me, again, if I didn't have him blocked. It will be interesting to compare how Talker describes it compared to Timilo.
"I have a program now to condense long messages, remove redundant words, and null statements. It was expensive because it's near being a full AI, but the Badgers, and Timilo in particular drove me to buy it. It condensed thirty-four pages of his text to one and a half."
"Thirty-four pages?" Lee demanded. "That seems excessive."
"Umm . . . hmm," Gordon confirmed with a nod and barely audible rumble again.
"Send me the source," Lee decided. "I probably need it too, or will when I really get into making a Claims Office and making it function. What did the page and a half say?"
"First paragraph was reminding me how important he is. Second was kind of weird. I think he wanted to make me feel good that I was important enough to be privileged to deal with him. Thirdly he was so sad we wouldn't be doing that anymore, which really didn't sound sincere.
"Then he told me Talker would be the new ambassador for the Badgers to Red Tree and any other Derf or allies who had an interest in trade and relations with their civilization. That might have been meant to be inclusive of their other races, but the program said it was indefinite.
"Timilo made a crack that was probably meant to put me in my place, implying that since I was going to be dealing with his subordinate now I was on a lower level than the relationship we enjoyed on first meeting. Not real sure about that subtle a translation, but it sounds like him being full of himself. Lastly, he asked who was going to escort them back home."
"Why does anybody have to escort them back home?" Lee asked. "I thought they are buying pea-shooters. That should handle any Biters they run into."
"What if they run into something else?" Gordon asked.
"Is that what he said?" Lee said.
"No, but Timilo seems to think I have some small skill at mind reading," Gordon admitted. "I have to read between the lines a bit, even with thirty four pages of them. I think what Timilo really wants is an escort with the sort of weapons we won't sell him. Who supplies that armed escort likely doesn't matter. Now, I can understand why he'd like that, but I wouldn't lay an X head on a Caterpillar ship even if they directly attacked him on sight for no apparent reason."
Lee nodded agreement. She'd have come to the same decision easily.
"Not that I have any love for the Centaurs, but neither do I want to keep blowing their ships away, until they come looking for the reason too many of them are not coming home from this part of their sky. We know nothing about them other than they acted aggressively with us once. We have no idea why they are in apparent conflict with the Caterpillars, They may have come at us just because we were with the Caterpillars. Who knows how they will act if we run into them alone?"
"Maybe," Lee said, skeptically. "They made up their mind to shoot awfully fast. I got the impression they're like the Biters, naturally aggressive. I really wonder who put a big rock into their world with the flare shield? There could be another race out there fighting the Centaurs besides the Caterpillars."
"If they're so naturally aggressive it might have been other Centaurs bombarding their own," Gordon pointed out.
"I didn't consider that," Lee said. "Wiping out most of a hemisphere seems pretty drastic. Even if it was some sort of outpost world without a real colony or population."
"The impact area was so extensive it might have had a colony there and we'd never find a trace," Gordon pointed out. "It's amazing any structure survived even a full quadrant away.
Lee frowned and scrunched her eyebrows together. "Did anybody ever name the Centaur world?" She demanded.
"I think you were off the bridge," Gordon said. "I told Ernie Goddard to name it, but he declined and said Choi Eun-sook should have the privilege, since she figured out the essential nature of the planet's features. She was shocked when called to the bridge and seemed at a loss. She first suggested Target very tentatively, but read the horrified looks on all our faces. She considered and rejected Impact and finally settled on 2 Ball."
Lee looked at him with a complete lack of comprehension.
"There is a game called pool, played on a special table, in which the balls are numbered. The planet being second from the sun got that designation from her because of how it was kissed by whatever impacted it. Look it up on the web-fraction and there are videos of the game being played," Gordon insisted. "It'll make a lot more sense."
"If you say so. I've seen crazier names for planets in the catalog. How do you feel about escorting the Badgers?" Lee asked.
"They're buying weapons from New Japan. Let them go along and guard their new customers," Gordon suggested. "Or the Fargoers. They are selling them some stuff too. I feel they have much more of an interest now than us. I have no desire to transition from an exploration company to a mercenary band."
"Good. I'm glad you feel that way," Lee said, relieved. "I doubt the Mothers would want to be involved with it, and I have my doubts if you shot off an X-head to save his butt that Timilo would want to pay for it. You'd have to make sure it was clearly called out in the contract to reimburse you for extraordinary expenses. Remember it flipped them out how many ounces of silver an X-head cost?"
"Yes, well just having the joy of Timilo's company going back is enough reason to decline. I wouldn't have Talker to tell me if anything he demanded on the way back was really within his authority. And I'd have no idea how long they would take to organize and authorize a return trip once we got there. I'd have to get minimum guaranteed costs for lay-over time and return."
"They're committed to bringing Talker's household here," Lee said. "He figures he got a pretty good deal from Timilo for pay and perks. I figure they'll be coming and going between Far Away and Derfhome pretty regularly, but they should be here awhile so I'll get to see his little girl Tish. I'm looking forward to that. She's a sweet kid."
Gordon looked sour, which surprised Lee.
"I can see you don't like something, but I have no clue what," Lee told him.
"I can't see why Talker would agree to work under Timilo after everything I heard him say about the man, er . . . Badger, and all the bureaucratic infighting and puffery. No matter how well paid or separated from him in distance and travel time he is. I can't get rid of the apprehension he'll go back and do Talker dirty. He'll have Talker's replacement on the next ship out of Far Away. Then what will he do? Move back in with his dad?
"Also, nobody asked us if we want an ambassador. I'm pretty sure the Mothers will support a Claims authority, but only by using it. They aren't about to try to force it on the other clans. It's not worth risking a new inexperienced Champion, and I can't see extending it to having a Badger ambassador in residence at Red Tree.
"I know you have leave from the First Mum to invite guests to the Keep, but it would be very bad form to stretch that to offering long-term residence. You could precipitate a crisis much more divisive than your first visit."
"Don't worry about Talker. He's neither dumb enough to trust Timilo nor was he corrupted by a bribe. Were you worried that was the case?" Lee demanded.
Gordon looked uncomfortable. "It was one of the possibilities I considered."
"You have to have more faith in your friends," Lee complained. "You know Talker has a half share coming from Ha-bob-bob-brie. Character aside, he isn't desperate enough to knuckle under to somebody like Timilo just for the money."
"I'm aware, but it's delayed. He seems to have an obsession with having a vast estate, just like his father," Gordon said, with a grand sweep of his hand to suggest just how big. "He may doubt he'll ever get a payout, now that the intended deal with the Earth Claims Commission fell through."
"I think he's more confident in us than the Earthies," Lee objected. "We were too honest if anything about the Claims Commission and he was aware they had a lot of weaknesses and problems. Now, Timilo may not be pleased by it, but Talker learned to trust you on the voyage here. We didn't just blast through to get back and Talker saw how you deal with things. He may be a little afraid of you, but he isn't going to doubt your character."
"I've just had a little more experience in life than you," Gordon objected. "I've had a few occasions where people disappointed me. I trust Talker about as much as I do anybody but you or Thor."
"Well, I think Talker should be in a close second tier," Lee said firmly.
"That seems reasonable to me," Gordon agreed. It was enough for Lee.
Chapter 9
"How interesting," April said. "Lee Anderson has hired the same private investigators we use in Armstrong to run a series of inquiries on us."
"I knew she wasn't stupid," Dakota said. "Marsh and Hasan are the best in the business. I give her points for zeroing in on them to hire. My only concern is the potential conflict of interest. They shouldn't have taken her money if they can't do their assignment properly, and they certainly shouldn't tell you that they were approached even if they turn her down. You could reasonably conclude they will simply hire someone else but be alerted to her interest."
"They didn't tell me, I have others watching them. I think the key word is what you said, properly. The assignment reads to find and sort all public information and interview third parties. However they were told specifically not to try to breach our privacy, data systems, or suborn present or past employees. Marsh and Hasan may well conclude that puts them in no conflict with their duty to us."
"They should have just hired a clipping service, and asked them to do a search back to such and such a date," Dakota said. "It would be a lot cheaper."
"But the mentality is very different," April said. "An investigator will tell her much different things than a simple data sorter. For example they will inform a client what data is missing and why its absence is significant. No keyboard drone searching databases is going to analyze things in that depth. She was smart to hire their sort as well as data searchers."
"Yes, but they will have to be theologians to sort out the moral hazards from such an assignment," Dakota warned. "I'd certainly not be confident I could look at everything they know about us, and decide what is public and searchable, and what they only could know about from our relationship. I don't consider myself a candidate for sainthood to be so flawlessly impartial."
"I can see how to do it," April admitted. "Just hire a promising new investigator and turn him loose on the problem with resources, but without any access to their own files."
"But . . . you've just hobbled him to do that," Dakota objected.
"That's all Lee's paying for, and all she'd get elsewhere," April pointed out.
"Did you think of that twisted devious thing all on your own? Or has Marsh and Hasan hired a new associate who might be used that way?" Dakota asked.
"I thought of it on my own," April said. "But they do have a request out to several recruiters to find a new investigator. And it's their first hire in over six months, so that's sort of suspicious."
"Are you going to quietly drop them?" Dakota wondered.
"Why, because they could treat us badly?" April asked. "They've always had plenty of opportunity to be crooked with us. I don't feel right to fire them unless they actually do something wrong. It'll be interesting to watch."
"You know . . . You could feed them misinformation or deliberately leak selected bits of information back to them," Dakota suggested.
April smiled, amused. "And you think I'm devious?" she asked Dakota.
* * *
"Are we going to go the slow way like our last visit? Commercial transport to Fishtown and ground car to the last town? I actually enjoyed riding out to the Keep mailbox with the postman," Lee remembered. "He was a character."
"I still feel it would be disruptive and seen as showing off to get dropped off by an air car," Gordon said. "How about if we get a shuttle ride down to Fishtown, then an air car can drop us off near the Keep just like the mailman did, and we can walk in?"
"Does an air car have the range to fly from Fishtown and back?" Lee asked. "They're fuel hogs and I seem to remember it was a long drive."
"There are more fueling stations out in the country than you might think. The ground cars and farm machinery all use synfuel the air cars can burn. We can get dropped off and the pilot can go fuel up to return, probably in that little town where we slept last time. It has to be piloted, because they don't have a navigation net outside the city," Gordon said.
"No satellite net?" Lee asked, surprised.
"Yes, for location services, but not with the bandwidth or intelligence to auto-pilot occupied vehicles. That takes a level of redundancy and expense nobody wanted to pay for at the projected usage. At least for some years," Gordon said.
"Because the Mothers keep everybody bottled up in the Keeps and there isn't any transport for fun. I bet the concept of tourism and people going to town for entertainment and shopping would horrify them," Lee said.
"They are only one generation removed from making sure nobody starved over the winter being a major concern," Gordon reminded her. "I want to see change too, but I have to cut them a little slack. The idea of allowing clan members a little discretionary income and freedom to go to town, to even have enough time off work to go to town, is going to come slow. If the Red Tree Mothers work to patch up the differences between Clan Derf and city Derf I think all that will follow naturally."
"And that's just Red Tree," Lee said, still unapproving.
"Believe me, Derf have all the jealousies and desires of the other races. If the Derf in other clans hear about Red Tree clansmen visiting town, or owning things like a movie viewer, it won't be long before their Mothers have to consider loosening their grip or risk having their best people going to the trade towns. The clans do mingle at festivals. Gossip and stories are a big part of those gatherings. That custom is far too established to change."
"Like you did," Lee acknowledged.
"Yes, but I was way ahead of the curve," Gordon insisted. "Most who went off did it to work at something like the fishing boats or mines. The whole thing was arranged by the Mothers, and they understood they were working for the clan not themselves. The Mothers gave them a little allowance, but only because they had expenses living in town they wouldn't have at home. It was understood their pay went to the clan and they would work a year or two and return.
"When I left it was contrary to what the Mothers assigned me. I had no idea if I'd be welcomed back. Most clan Derf would be terrified to go to town not knowing what they would do. Not knowing if anybody would hire them or if they would end up an outlaw wondering the woods. The Mothers never shared any information about the outside world that would encourage leaving. Once in awhile people would meet other in town who struck out on their own, but that was uncommon. I certainly never knew anybody who walked away before I did. I just couldn't stomach the idea of making barrels forever. It was a life sentence."
Lee didn't look happy, but considered that all in silence.
"I'm not saying it won't happen," Gordon clarified. "I'm saying it probably won't happen as fast as you want."
"And if I push too hard I may hinder it more than help it," Lee concluded.
"Exactly, you do get it," Gordon confirmed.
"Well, we do want to avoid a bloody revolution," Lee agreed.
"Please, keep thinking that way. Especially since the clans would win. They have a history of destroying the opposition completely, so they might even do away with the trading towns entirely in victory, no matter how inconvenient that would be."
"You had trading towns, clan neutral territory, before Humans," Lee said.
"Yes," Gordon agreed, "but they were small, and had much less influence than now, with things like ground cars and airline service. Fishtown was about three thousand people when I walked in as a boy, with dirt streets and no public utilities. Now I'd guess it is about twenty thousand and it has spread out several kilometers in every direction."
"You guess? Don't they do a census?" Lee asked.
"The Mothers know exactly how many live in their own Keep," Gordon said. "In town there isn't any one controlling authority over everything. There's a council and its membership varies from town to town. The town people didn't go there for their love of dominating authority. If somebody tried to declare themselves Mothers over a town they'd likely lose their head over the matter.
Lee grimaced, knowing in Derf custom that would be literal.
"I never asked how the trade towns operate," Lee said, dismayed at herself. "I'm trying to change the system and I only knew how the clan side of it worked. I have to get better at asking questions."
"I knew," Gordon reminded her. "If opening up the Keeps for people like me to leave would have created problems in the towns I'd have spoken up. It probably will create some minor trouble with established interests. With trade associations and merchants, but it’ll be worth it."
* * *
The air car set them down by the road, within sight of the large crate the Keep used as a mailbox and freight drop off. There was no artifact or building visible in any direction but the road and the box. There would be little point to be dropped off any closer and hope keen Derf hearing wouldn't notice the air car. It was a bit of a hike in from there, but they were both looking forward to it. A few hundred meters left them in what would be wilderness, except there was a faint path worn through the vegetation that was little more than a game trail.
Lee was better rested, twelve kilo heavier and longer limbed than the first time she visited Red Tree. She didn't ask to ride on Gordon's shoulders as they'd done the first visit, but the difference would have been insignificant to him. It was odd to think that her growth was going to slow down now that she started life extension therapy.
The alpine meadow looked about the same until they progressed to a saddle in the hills below the old fortress that overlooked the bowl holding the Keep. From that point on the trees, already stunted and dwarfed from the harsh climate were simply dead. Killed off by the enhanced radiation weapon the Derf used on the North American invaders during the war. They weren't all cut and cleared away this far from the center of the Keep.
But looking down on the Keep, and flat area around it, the mature trees were all gone. They'd been still standing, though dead, the last time Lee was here. They were all removed now both to clear them for safety before they started falling, and to make room for new plantings. Lee wondered what the Mothers did with all the wood.
That special nuke killed the trees, the soldiers, the crew of the four invading shuttles, and one Derf, the Champion of Red Tree Clan, William. He met the invaders in ceremonial armor after their landing, but they refused to surrender, thinking him insane to even ask it. Then it was too late to surrender, in a literal flash. William was Gordon's father and Lee's self declared Champion. The fact she only met him briefly still bothered her.
The Clan's war with North America was over her treatment and kidnapping while visiting Earth, so Lee still had pangs of guilt thinking about it. She never expected or wanted anybody to die for her. Gordon and others assured her she just happened to be the trigger of the dispute and if she hadn't come along another event would have done so. The situation was just ripe for conflict and had to be resolved. That still wasn't much comfort to Lee. The loss of William alone seemed far too dear a price.
It wasn't until they were past the saddle and well down hill before the hundreds of trees planted on the basin floor became visible as more than a scattering of pale green color. They were only about the same height as Lee still and their skinny trunks weren't visible until they were all the way down on the flat ground. By that point the stones piled up as a monument to the dead, both Human and William were visible. Lee had added to the cairn herself last visit.
There were a few sheds and larger outbuildings Lee didn't remember, and plenty of foot traffic including a few Derf with wheelbarrows. Lee suspected the Mothers would be slow to adapt any powered transport as long as they had abundant labor. She knew they had at least one tractor to till fields, but Gordon had assured her most harvesting was done manually with the entire population turning out to help.
The Keep stuck up as a mass of rock in the middle of the valley, with very little external stone work and no high towers. Just a radio mast that was so slim it was nearly invisible. Unlike the fortress overlooking their way in it extended mostly underground with little actually visible to hint at its extent or volume. Entry was by one main gate, and any other exits were hidden and for emergency only.
Gordon had explained to Lee that there were some escape exits, near the surface, but the final few meters would have to be dug by hand or removed by demolition charges if there was a great hurry. The tunnel end at the Keep was blocked by massive locked doors and only a handful of military leaders besides the Mothers knew how far they went and where they came out. Gordon left home before his age for military training and had never gained that particular knowledge.
Lee looked up as they approached the entry and had a distressing pang of emotion. The figure seated in a shallow alcove by the entry looked just like William the first time she'd seen him. Not in ceremonial garb, but practical harness and a modern twenty millimeter automatic rifle. It had to be Garrett, William's successor as Champion. William started Garrett's training, and in many ways, Gordon had told her, it was ongoing. The new Champion stood up and came to meet them, and Lee swallowed her discomfort and tried to present a happy face to him.
Garrett greeted her warmly and took both her hands in his true hands. He didn't sweep her up and hug her like William had, but neither had he been getting letters from Gordon for years like William had, so that he felt he knew her.
"Are the Mothers holding court in the Great Hall?" Gordon asked.
"I think the Second Mother is off doing something, but I expect she'll come back to meet you," Garrett predicted.
Once again Lee and Gordon managed to hit between meals. The tables were busy with other things though. The First and Third Mother talked with workers, while others sat to each side waiting for a turn, some of them still using the time to work on a tablet or some actual paper printouts. Lee was sure there were more electronic devices in use than her previous visits. The Mothers were slowly but surely modernizing.
The First Mother waved at seats opposite her and held a single digit up to say she'd be with them after a pause. It had to be a learned Human gesture. Once upon a time there wasn't enough Human contact for such things to leak in.
"Welcome," she said after disposing of the male hurrying away with a sheet of instructions. "Sit down and relax a moment. Service! Somebody bring our visitors some refreshment!" She said loudly over her shoulder. "Let me slay one more monster and I can talk with you," she promised, in Derf still.
"I know the words, but I never heard them used like that," Lee said.
"Because you never had a Derf grandmother to terrorize you," Gordon said. "We have our own fables and fairy tales, well we would if we had fairies, there's nothing exactly like that, but we have plenty of stuff like Trolls and Orcs to understand the idiom she just used."
"What does that have to do with grandmothers?" Lee asked, mystified.
"They watch children and keep them safe. A lot of times they have to tell a child not to go near the pond or to stay away from the storage room or keep away from the live stock. A small child can't really follow a big complicated lecture about safety so they just tell them there is something bad and scary there. They personify it as a monster," Gordon explained.
"But it's a lie," Lee objected, being very literal.
"Yes. I've heard that argument," Gordon agreed. "I believe it alternate Tuesdays. The grandmas would ask me what I want, absolute truth or drowned cubs?"
"Hmm . . . I'll have to think on that a bit. Are you sure it's a binary choice?" Lee asked.
"No," Gordon admitted, "but when I run the arguments through my head I have yet to find an alternative that I have any confidence a skeptical grandmother couldn't pick apart."
The First Mother was through with her urgent matter and seemed to have followed the tail end of their conversation with interest. "Well I'm a grandmother, and I have a keen appreciation of traditions and history. Fortunately since I'm tied up with executive matters I have a lot of support from other grandmothers, mothers, and aunts to help with child care.
"I'm very glad of that, because I have enough trouble with stubborn farm foremen, town traders, fall hunters and cooks. I can lay down the law and inform them a matter is decided and go do as I've told them. It has always amazed me the patience of someone dealing with a three year old, who doesn't care who you are and just says NO when you tell them what to do."
An adolescent Derf of indeterminate gender but beautiful cinnamon coat slide a mug of beer in front of Gordon, a much smaller glass in front of Lee, and reached between them depositing a plate of snacks on the table within reach of both of them. The table was still too big for Lee, but she could at least see, and reach her snacks now, without sitting on Gordon's knee.
"We've read your logs and reports," the First Mum informed them. "It seems like all the resources you've found on your voyage will take a very long time to develop and even longer to use any significant portion of them."
Gordon nodded, a Human gesture the First Mother accepted now with no questioning look on her face. "In my opinion, by the time any of these resources run low we'll have moved toward technologies that can create less abundant elements at need."
"In a few centuries," Lee piped up.
"But will it be economical to bring these resources so far back to us?" First Mum asked.
"We've had some good discussions about that," Lee said. "And the Fargoers gave me a lot to think about. I think they are correct that people will move to where the resources are over time. I've thought about that, and how it could happen, the last couple days. I doubt it is anything anybody could stop or even control. But it doesn't change who owns those resources, unless you treat people so badly they feel cut off from what they need."
The Second Mother did join them, and just gave a deep nod to acknowledge them, almost a bow, rather than interrupt anyone.
Gordon tilted his head slightly and looked off past the First Mum's shoulder.
"You haven't discussed this with her," The First Mum decided.
"Oh, we've discussed it back and forth, and raised all sorts of possibilities, but this is a new thought she just revealed. I think she may have the right of it," Gordon said. "People would rather buy what you own than fight for it or steal it most of the time, if you just have the sense to be reasonable on price, and not try to gouge them.
"But there will be a shift of power. We're traders, businesspeople, so that doesn't concern us unless a shift in governance leads to someone trying to remove our property rights. I don't pretend to know how you will regard that idea as administrators."
"You know Red Tree is not aggressive," the First Mum declared, "not expansionist, to use an English term that would likely be perceived to be more about excessive eating than politics in Derf. We are happy to have an opportunity to develop a colony on Providence, but we have no desire to push against our neighbors, nor even encroach on the neutral territory towards Fishtown. We feel our present boundaries are rationally defined by geological features. That makes them easier to accept than arbitrary lines drawn across an otherwise featureless plain.
"But I'm not at all sure Earth or the major Earth powers will accept being relegated to being a sort of quaint backwater. They do send a firm signal that they crave territory and influence beyond their own system, given their forward military outposts in uninhabited systems and intimidating show the flag visits such as we just had."
"We learned a great deal about the politics of the Earth system on this visit," Gordon said. He launched into a description of what they knew about the history of Home, Central, and the Lunar Republic. Just how advanced their technology seemed to be. How they had been received by April, acting for Heather. How Gabriel had helped them make a fast transit to Derfhome as a favor for Lee. He invited Lee to describe her dinner date with Gabriel, and the Mothers sat in rapt attention at her tale, how his ship operated in particular. Gordon sat silent and made some progress on his beer.
"I'm having data searches run, and people cautiously questioned, because we still don't know the full state of things in the Earth system," Lee admitted. "The Earth nations seem to be fearful of challenging these three tiny allied states. They respect this L1 boundary restriction on armed ships, and meekly ask clearance to cross outbound to other stars. We can't believe that continues because of a single military defeat years and years ago. I'd expect them to keep pushing and testing. We came away from Earth with more questions than answers, and to our embarrassment, look back at our time with both April and Gabriel and see they were very capable at deflecting our interest from important questions. I admit, we were somewhat intent on getting access to this Life Extension Therapy, and allowed it to distract us. We didn't want to endanger that by being aggressively pushy in demanding answers to other things. It was mentioned almost in passing that we might have other issues to pursue together, but honestly, I had no idea for what to ask for."
The Second and Third Mothers exchanged several significant looks with each other, and the First Mother looked unhappy, but April had no idea if they were unhappy with her or something else, so she asked.
"Not you," the First said with a sharp negative gesture. "It's that the treaty we negotiated has little value if North America isn't truly a sovereign state. Our agreement can be swept away by their masters should it displease them. They were not candid with us about this."
"Honestly, I don't think Central and its allies are really masters in that sense. April said as much, that there are limits to what they can tell them to do. So they pick their issues carefully to make sure they are worth the risk. The Spacers are very aware there are limits to how far they can push before the Earthies would fight them no matter what it cost. She said if they had to kill enough of them to supplant them, it would destroy the planet."
The Mothers looked very skeptical, and the First had a grip on the table edge with middle arms that was going to leave claw marks.
Lee saw this could really get out of hand and be a problem. She needed to defuse it. Gordon sat up straighter and was neglecting his beer. She spoke quickly before he decided to jump in.
"Really, the three Spacer allies are simply doing much the same as Red Tree," Lee said.
That got their attention, but she could tell they had no idea where she was going.
"They also had a treaty with North America, and the government changed. The new one repudiated the treaty with Home. It seems to be their habit. We know there were several violent clashes between Earth, Home and Central. I suspect we don't know about all of them. We were assured they have the capability of destroying even the largest Earth nations if pushed into it. But they don't want to."
"Why?" The Third Mum asked, silent until now.
"It's a treasure house of biologicals. They're still discovering new organisms every year. And as the home planet is a repository of all their history. It's irreplaceable. April said the ability to destroy them is a very blunt instrument to effect change."
"I said much the same when we had a ship poised to crash into them," the First Mother admitted, softening a little. "It's a binary tool with no graduations of subtlety."
"It's a moral issue too," Lee insisted. "They would have made themselves a stink to the other Earth nations, and likely the other worlds of Man. Admiral Hawking told me he didn't see how Fargoers could ever feel safe again if you had bombarded North America. That convinced me April was right. Hawking and others would have regarded Home the same way if they'd slagged the continent. Their morality may be slightly different than yours, but at least they do have something that's recognizable as a set of principles."
"The Humans don't have the same history as us," Gordon reminded them. "Their morality is advised by a different experience. You would say a clan all bear responsibility if they support their Mother's actions and don't remove them. But their leaders are surrounded with security and shrouded in secrecy. Their people are often excluded from accurate information about what those leaders are doing in their name. The Lunar powers may reasonably see them more as hostages than collaborators."
"These arguments have merit," the Third Mother said. She was still respectful, but given to strong opinions.
The Second Mother was very reserved, but gave a single solemn nod of agreement.
"Yes, but it still leaves us having an agreement with what I now consider a secondary player," First Mum said. "Even if we grant the Earthies feel they are sovereign. They exist on their own considerable ego, and the sufferance of others. I think we need to have a defined relationship with this trio of secretive Lunar powers. A relationship based on accurate information and some level of mutual understanding. If all we can agree to is to not have any dealing with each other, that they won't interfere with our treaty with North America, that still gives us a guide to move forward."
"They indicated they aren't seeking allies, but you could form other agreements. To do that you need to ask to meet with them. Either invite them here or go there. In a body or send a representative," Lee urged them.
The kitchen help had set most of the table in the hall for dinner, working up until their table was the last one bare, and the settings for it were waiting on the next table over.
"We need to let them set our table," the First Mother said. "Indeed, we all need to eat in any case, and we can continue discussing this matter later." With a gesture the servers put their plates and utensils before them, and the clan filtered in to take their seats.
Chapter 10
They didn't just switch topics at supper. Serious business matters were dropped entirely. Lee found she was keenly interested in the details of how the Keep was run. She had property of her own and might have to direct an estate someday.
Derf and Humans shared food better than the Badgers and Bills, Lee thought, examining the table. It was even better from the Derf side. They could eat almost anything it seemed. Most of the prohibited items were for Humans. There were greens she should avoid, but they were so bitter than was no burden. The meat she avoided. Humans liked dry aged steaks, but Derf aged their meat well beyond what Humans would consider edible. Fish was safe. Even Derf couldn't face old fish. Most of the fruit, except a few berries were safe. And Derf liked sweet things so the very tart berries got sweetened too. They still ate mostly seasonal foods in the clan and didn't rely on frozen or dried much, although they had taken to canning some things.
After dinner cleanup went surprisingly fast. Lee noticed that was because the diners helped with the clean up, when they hadn't helped set up at all. When there was one distant table of folks who'd come in late still eating, the Mothers served coffee to their own table and tiny sweets Lee would have called cookies.
"You'll spoil us to serve star goods," Lee said. "But I do appreciate it."
"Not star goods at all. Though it's a novelty and still very dear," the Second Mother said. "There are a several clans with the proper climate and altitude experimenting with growing it. Unfortunately, we're high enough, but the growing season is too short and the winter too harsh. I found it interesting that you assumed it was Earth coffee however. There's a great deal of debate and conflicting opinion over the quality of the locally grown."
"I'm no coffee snob," Lee said. "I think people come to things like this with preconceptions. If they did a blind taste test I bet most of them couldn't tell any difference.
There are so many other factors, it matters a great deal how the beans are processed, how they are roasted, the brewing method, and the temperature of the water."
"Did you learn all those things in order to make your own coffee?" the Third Mum asked.
"No, I was reading a novel, and one of the characters had an obsession about coffee. He wasn't very good at his job and got fired. But he was the only one who could make decent coffee. The office manager conspired with some of the other workers, and hired him back in a make work job, just to get his coffee making skills again. I wondered if it was really that complicated and looked in our web fraction to see if any of it was true. We didn't have a really big chunk of web back then, but everything I could find seemed to indicate the story was right on the money. This stuff," Lee raised her cup, "seems just fine to me."
"Both the Badgers and the Caterpillars like coffee," Gordon said. "We can't communicate that well with the Caterpillars yet, but going by their enthused reaction and what they are willing to pay, they are very fond of the stuff."
"The Badgers will grow their own," Lee said. "We've already talked about that, but I have no idea how to tell the Caterpillars something as complicated as how to grow it. We might have to just show them. So that's going to be a market for at least a little while."
"We saw video," the First Mother said. "All the new races are interesting. But of course the Caterpillars are the strangest. And we don't know what these Centaurs look like, except for a foot. That's . . . I think creepy is the best English expression."
"Oh! I forgot," Gordon said. "I got this message on Fargone and we were so busy it slipped my mind." He produced his pad and found a photo. "This is embossed on a can from the junk we brought back from 2 Ball. They think it might have been some kind of food container." He handed the pad across to the First Mother. The Second and Third Mothers leaned in and looked too.
"I take it back. The whole thing is far creepier than just the foot," the First Mother said.
"How big are they?" the Third Mum and asked Gordon.
"There's a text file associated with quite a bit of analysis and speculation. They mass about two thirds what a mature Derf, like me, does."
"Good, I can kill them," the Third said.
Gordon was shocked and a little dismayed at her attitude.
"Just looking at them makes my fur stand up all the way up my back," she insisted.
Lee was about ready to get up and go around the table to see, but they slid the pad back across in front of her. She picked it up and studied it. There were two of the creatures, turned towards each other and touching hands. They had a much sleeker rear quarters and a heavy chest. The front legs seemed disproportionally heavy and the front upright seemed more like a heavy neck than the classic Centaur pictured with a human torso.
The arms were low near the body, arising from very abbreviated shoulders, stout but short, and the fingers appeared to have four joints. The strangest thing was the thumb. It was centrally opposed and large. It should have a tremendous grip. The muzzle was long and narrow but the head spread out behind it with large eyes set well apart. The one Centaur had its mouth closed but showed teeth poking out near the front. The other had its mouth open wide showing impressive dentition. It was obviously a carnivore.
"They'd have to bend that neck over nearly doubled to get their hands up to their mouth," Lee decided. "I bet they don't eat with their hands."
"They're fast, and probably have a keen sense of smell. Things with a long snout usually do," the Second Mother guessed. "But why such massive front legs?"
"We thought they might be herbivores from the foot," Gordon admitted, "obviously we were wrong. Notice the one on the right in the picture seems to have the end of the foot flared out. The remains we have were too damaged to see how that would be done."
"An adaptation to soft ground maybe," Lee speculated.
"Maybe, or sand," Gordon said, shrugging. "That's as good a guess as I think we'll get until we see some live ones."
"May you have the joy of it," the Third Mother said. "I don't want any part of them."
The First Mother steered the conversation away. Lee thought maybe the Third Mother was embarrassing them with her strong dislike, but she didn't reprove her at all.
"I thought your friend Talker might come back with you," the First Mother said. "He was surprisingly easy to get along with, and very respectful. Tell him he is welcome to visit us again even if he isn't with you."
"The second group of Badgers that followed us here were from different agencies of the Badger government. The head of that delegation persuaded Talker to accept an assignment from them to stay behind and act as an ambassador to anyone of the Derf or Fargoers who wish to do business with them or seek a relationship with their civilization. Talker is busy buying a property and setting it up as an embassy." Lee stopped, and frowned thinking about it. "Or at least a consulate depending on how you and other clans decide to treat his presence."
"I feel we should acknowledge his authority," the Second Mother said. "I think we can deal with that one. I've heard the one returning can be much more difficult," she added.
"You hardly spoke with him when he was here," the Third Mum protested.
"I wasn't silent because I was stricken with deafness," the Second said.
"Just the Badgers, or the others too?" the First Mother asked.
"The Bill, Singer, and a few others will remain," Lee said. "Gordon has had little patience with them infighting for advantage over each other on the voyage here, and I firmly suggested steps they could take to keep that habit from creeping back in. I tried to make it clear that I'm totally supportive of Gordon's feelings in the matter."
"Then invite him to visit not just in friendship, but formally, to present his credentials," the First Mother instructed.
"Lee's learning to speak so pretty and tactfully," Gordon said, amused. "I'm sure the message was more like, "If you think you can cross me on this I'll have Gordon skin you out and make a hand puppet out of you."
Lee didn't dignify that with a response, but there was no embarrassing silence to cover, because the Mothers were all laughing.
"Don't look so serious and offended, Dear," the First Mum said. "We have Garrett easing into his role as Champion, and I think he's going to be a fine one, but if I wanted to scare the Fargoers spitless I'd threaten them with Gordon myself. You shouldn't need to, if only they knew you better, but it's not a kindness to threaten people with something they might ignore to their peril."
"Know me better?" Lee asked.
"Yes, the Badgers didn't see you sit there and tell the First Mother she was flat out wrong, and offer to shoot it out with her with hypervelocity pistols," she said, making a menacing gun with her true hand. "As much as I'm glad you are both alive and well, there's still the occasional thought that creeps in when I remember it, that we missed a major spectacle. You were ready to do it. Little thing you were," the Mother said, acknowledging her growth spurt, "you scared half the clan pretty badly that day."
"I can get carried away when I'm indignant," Lee admitted. "I'll be sixteen in a few days. I'm aware I have to work on some maturity and dignity."
"That's good. You can keep working on those qualities when you go represent us to the Lunar governments," the First Mother said. The other two nodded like this was already expected, though they hadn't had any privacy to discuss it among themselves.
"I what?" Lee protested, mouth hanging open.
"Well, it was your idea. You said we need to go there or send an emissary. Didn't you?"
"Yes, but I wasn't volunteering," Lee said, looking stricken.
"No need. That's how we Mothers are. If a fellow comes up to us and says, "We really need a new drainage ditch running out of the east pasture," We hand him a shovel. Who better than the guy with mud on his boots? He knows where to dig, and has a keen interest in seeing it done right. Your clan can call on your services. Consider yourself called."
"This is a huge responsibility to hand to a sixteen year old," Lee protested.
"Good. I'm reassured that you appreciate the gravity of the assignment. You already know Lady April personally. If you have to expand your acquaintance of the other Peers, or the Sovereign herself, you have some basis to work from. You said you have seen their skill at deflecting attention from that which they don't want to discuss. Another would go in unarmed, without the benefit of your experience."
"What do you wish to gain?" Lee asked, making the mental leap that she didn't have any choice if she was called to service.
"What we said before. Either a relationship, or an agreement to not meddle in each other's affairs." the First Mother said.
"Do you want to define the limits of that relationship?" Lee asked. "Do you want trade? Do you want a mutual defense treaty? I can't see opening the territory of Red Tree to thousands of unknown Humans. There isn't room by the hearth," she said, waving at the huge fireplace.
"That's always been a problem with Humans," the Third Mother acknowledged. "There's just so many of you and so few of us."
"I don't think that's a real problem here," Gordon said. "We don't really need close ties with the Lunar Republic or Home. Indeed, April described The Lunar Republic as a buffer between them and Earth, and left them off the list of places we could obtain Life Extension Therapy. Central is where the power lies, but the fact they will form treaties with these others shows they do allow some outside ties."
"But those two are physically close to them, and under the same risks from being so close to Earth," Lee pointed out.
"Yes, but my point is Central is where the power and the advanced technology resides," Gordon said. "Every sign we have seen is that they are a very small group, perhaps even smaller than Red Tree. You're not going to get a sudden influx of visitors if you offer free passage or safe harbor for distressed travelers. And they have a special relationship with Fargone that isn't close to them at all."
"I'm informed Gordon has told you the history of our contact with Humans, and our ways of dealing with other clans, back when we were alone in the world," the First Mother said. "Can you see from that what your guiding principle should be in any agreements with Central?"
"Sure, parity. No special privileges or diminished sovereignty," Lee said.
"Exactly. You affirm our confidence in you. Whatever Central can ask of us, I'm sure we can live with it if it applies equally to them. Surely we have something to offer?" The Second and Third Mothers nodded agreement.
"Derfhome is not the center of the universe, and Red Tree is not even the center of Derfhome in any sense. To be secure and prosper we have to reach out beyond Clan and Keep. Already, we would never want to go back to depending on our own hand and territory to survive. We were at risk even from a bad turn in the weather for a growing season. You are opening up new territory on Providence to us, to be even more secure. Strong allies seem a wise addition too."
Lee sat and thought on it quite a while with a frown on her face.
"Is there something you don't feel free to say?" the First Mum finally asked.
"Do I have freedom to advise you without being thought presumptuous?" Lee asked.
The First Mother laughed. "Speak! You already advised us to send an emissary to the Lunarians. Why are you suddenly shy?"
"Because that involves space and people I know, but now I'd speak about matters here on Derfhome that you undoubtedly feel your prerogative. I don't wish to offend."
"Speak anyway," the First offered. "We aren't timid to reject your ideas if we don't like them, and I'll even add that I'll tell you why, which I wouldn't offer to everyone."
Lee gave a nod that was deep, almost a bow. Gordon looked concerned.
"If it is wise for Central to seek allies close by, even if they aren't their peers, shouldn't you be figuring out how to gather allies among the clans? As you said, times change. How long can the clans stay completely isolated from each other? Look at Earth. They have a couple hundred nations just like Derfhome has clans. Hasn't this been a weakness? The rebellion of the lesser members gave us the opportunity to leave the Claims structure and form our own. I think they will regret this in the long run." Lee looked worried waiting their response.
"But how is the question?" the First Mother asked. Cupping a true hand out in front of her like the issue could rest in her palm. "The new Third Mother nudged us, I admit, starting with our time on Derfhome Station, negotiating with the Earthies. She asked pointed questions to which we didn't have answers. The things the clanless and even Humans said to us showed they felt a greater kinship with us than we extended back. It was humbling and a little embarrassing. But I can tell you that before then, we'd have rejected without any serious consideration anything that touched the slightest on our long held authority.
"We can't count on other clan Mothers having a precipitating event like we did. Most are isolated. They will never go to Derfhome station. Some still live and die on their land and never go to anything outside but the annual meeting of the Mothers. Not even a trade town or other clan. We still don't even have a worldwide meeting of Mothers. They are still on three continents. Why? Are airplanes that scary?"
"I'm not sure it isn't for the best right now," the Second Mother said. "If the meeting tripled in size there would be more dissent and the discussion might be drawn out until people left without finalizing anything. Perhaps it will happen in time, with adjustments in custom."
"Then how can you do it, without war or a great slaughter of Champions?" Lee asked.
"By our drawing the trade towns and clanless into a closer relationship with us before other clans," the First insisted. "If others see we prosper, better than them, most will act in their own interest. Even the very stubborn will come around once an obstructing Mother retires or dies. So we are taking a long view. The trouble right now is which faction in town do we befriend? They have so many competing interests."
"Use Talker," Gordon suggested. "Give him a guarantee of protection for his embassy, something the guilds and unions in the trade towns never had, and favor him with trade and business so the others see his prosperity. If they ask why he has a favored status, and they don't, just tell them they never sought it out. That's the simple truth and puts the blame on them to correct. Talk to him. Ask him how to do so. He may have some ideas from his own culture how to make it work. I've noticed they have a low conflict form of governance with many independent jurisdictions. The central authorities that do exist are much more limited and like us than Humans."
"They are a hereditary patriarchal society instead of an appointive linear matriarchy, but they do seem to make it work without constant war," the Second Mother said.
Lee decided maybe the Second Mum, though quieter, was the deeper thinker of the three.
"If I'm representing you I'd like to be transported on the Sharp Claws," Lee requested. "I want to be able go in differently than my previous visit. I want to announce to Traffic Control we are a Red Tree flagged vessel on a Red Tree mission. We can leave the Retribution behind to guard Derfhome."
"Granted easily," the First Mother said. "Do you have any requests for crew?"
Lee looked at Gordon. Guessing her thought, and he shook his head no, gently.
"I'd leave that to Captain Frost to decide what level of staffing he needs for an Earth trip," Lee said, "but I'll take Gordon along if he'll consent to go with me."
"By all means," the First Mother agreed. "Take Gordon, and take this." She tossed something across the table that Lee snatched out of the air. When she opened her hand it was the carved seal the Mothers used to sign clan business.
Chapter 11
In the quiet of their rooms Gordon made himself comfortable and waved Lee over.
"I was speaking with our bank today. It seems a few of the crew with shares are anxious to have a payout and have been inquiring of the bank if they would be interested in buying their share, or a fraction of it, at a discount."
"That doesn't seem unreasonable," Lee said. "They expected to start getting cash payments through the Claims Commission very quickly and that fell through. We can't keep full crews working without some project or voyage planned, and not everybody wanted to sign up for a second trip even if we could go back out right away." Lee looked at him sharply. "You aren't rethinking Timilo's offer of mercenary work are you?"
"No! It's certainly not that desperate yet. Almost certainly somebody will be angry at us for not anticipating the Claims Commission committing suicide. If I thought somebody was in real hardship because of the wait I'd be tempted to buy them out myself. But then everybody would want it," Gordon said.
"And as rich as we are we couldn't start to buy out all the shares from this voyage," Lee said.
"Also, if I do that somebody would protest my act of charity is profiteering on my own crew," Gordon predicted. "So if the bank wants to buy shares, fine, they can do it without anyone painting it as a bad thing. That's just their normal sort of business. In fact if they want to make a regular market in the things like they were stock that's fine with me. I told them as much. There are probably enough sellers to post public weekly quotes and discount rates. Let the market decide what they are worth and let it float wherever price discovery takes it. It may help recruiting for our next voyage if the same thing is expected to happen to those new crew shares. That could offset the disappointment of the Claims Commission begging off."
Lee looked thoughtful. "We might not have the funds to buy out a tenth of the people who want to sell, but if it's a public offering by the bank to buy them, we could still try to make sure the price doesn't collapse too far. If it looks to take a dip we could start buying some ourselves. It's not like a public contract that has to be published. We could tell the bank to do it anonymously for us any time the price looked to dip too far. Just set a number with them of what we are willing to spend, so we don't have another thing to track closely."
"Have you been reading about economics too?" Gordon asked. "I think that's legal on Derfhome, but some people might object that it's price manipulation."
"Well of course it's price manipulation," Lee said. "But why is that a bad thing? I have eight shares for personal service and my ship service and outfitting. Why wouldn't I try to make sure they retain their value? And I'm taking on new risks. If my intervention doesn't work I just dropped a chunk of cash the seller gets to keep."
"That sounds reasonable, but there's a long history of it being used in bad ways. If people drive prices down to buy and then up to sell. Or if they manage to buy so much they can control the market in an item. That's called cornering the market. Economics is a whole new area for you to learn."
"Well we already said I don't have enough money to control the whole thing, and I'm never going to do anything to make the price drop. That would be crooked, and dangerous. What if it worked and then it didn't come back up?" Lee asked."Ka-Boom!" she predicted.
"I can't see how keeping the price boosted hurts anybody who actually worked for their shares, only the sort of crooked speculators you're talking about. I'd be happy to read some on economics when you want, but it seems mostly like common sense stuff to me."
Gordon look distressed at that, but it slowly turned to a thoughtful look. "I can't find fault with doing it the way you describe," Gordon admitted.
"Good. It really does matter to me that you approve of what I do, you know."
"Thank you, I was pretty sure of that, but it's nice to hear. Others, like our bank and the Mothers, really matter too," Gordon insisted.
"Yeah, but not as much as you," Lee said, and making a rocking motion with her hand.
Lee could tell that bothered him.
Gordon went off to bed in his own room. They took no room in common at the Keep like the hotel suites they'd grown used to. Neither did Lee sleep with him near now for emotional support, like she had when the night terrors easily visited her after her parent's deaths. She'd made a good adjustment to that horror and didn't dwell on it regularly.
Lee looked to see if her search and investigation was returning anything useful on the Lunar powers. There were already years of easily found public resources like news releases from Earth sources and a lesser number from the Lunar Republic and Armstrong. More than she could read if she devoted months to doing so. Yet this was supposedly distilled down to what might interest her with repetitions of the same news release from multiple sources eliminated. She was going to have to scroll through just the headers and pick what jumped out and seemed relevant to her. Lee told the program to order them chronologically and looked at a few from earlier in the century, closer to the time when she knew the Chinese ships were destroyed in lunar orbit.
“Western Autonomous Region denies Lunar link,” read one headline from the Vancouver Vision. “We don’t monitor our counties trade, and impose no restraints. We don’t actually have any trade policy. We’re no Jeremiahs,” their spox insisted.
Lee highlighted Jeremiahs for a later search and refused to get sidetracked researching regional or time specific idioms this early.
“Aerospace tire production to resume in the state of Hidalgo,” said another. That made Lee look up why it had stopped. The gap in time didn’t make any sense. The facility was destroyed in the war, but why would it take them that long after the war to start making them again? Why move it from North Carolina instead of rebuilding in place?
“Brazil cautioned by Central spox on L1 limit,” Was in the Eastern News, translated from Portuguese. That at least made sense. The South American country announced plans to build an armed vessel. The warning was public, which spoke to Central wanting to remind others too. Doing a date limited search over the next week it didn’t appear that Brazil made any public reply to the warning.
There was a whole series of posts and news releases about the new star drive.
“Europeans lose third drone in FTL testing,” said the Capitol Watchdog. “Unable to emulate North American success, the European consortium testing a third robotic drone says the 230M EuroMark device appeared to make a quantum transition, but has not successfully returned. The device carries a radio beacon which will transmit intermittently for several years, to aid locating it in the future, but the transmitter is not powerful enough to be detected on Earth with current technology.
A North American probe could possibly detect the transmissions while in the Centauri star system, but the North American craft made its second return and their space agency refuses to speculate when they will make a third trip or confirm if their robotic vessel is equipped to detect the emissions of the European craft.”
Lee frowned and thought about how jump technology hadn't made any sense to her when Thor tried to explain it to her. She'd been really irritated when he suggested she might be able to understand it later, when she was more mature, and her brain had developed more.
She backed the time line up a couple decades and did a search. It wasn't that hard to find the academic papers which were the basis for the jump drive. She saved those to her pad to look at some time. Maybe she'd understand them now. Maybe it would be easier to understand the full paper than Thor's informal lesson. Sometimes things lost their essence when you tried to simplify them. But she'd never give Thor the satisfaction of knowing she looked at the material. If it still didn't make any sense he was the last person she'd ever pick to help her with it now. She didn't want to be disrespected, as she saw it, again.
Moving ahead another year she felt a pang of distressed empathy over the headline that said, "North American crew of two lost in failed jump." Having jumped multiple times herself, it carried an emotional impact, because it could happen to her. It caught her interest enough to make her read the first couple paragraphs.
"A second generation experimental jump craft failed to materialize on schedule in the Alpha Centauri star system. The inflatable temporary space station in Centauri stellar orbit had four crew present, two of whom were set to exchange with the ship crew and rotate out. The failure comes after two previous successful supply missions arrived via jump drone.
"As with early jump drone failures, and the ill fated first attempt of the Pedro Escobar, piloted by James Weir, there is no indication if the vessel failed to complete the transition or did so to a point too distant to communicate or return. As no trace to date has been found of other vessels, which failed to materialize in the intended target area, the vessel and crew are presumed to have been lost."
Lee thought about how the three principal owners of a much better jump technology, April, Heather and Jeff, sat and watched others struggle and take risks with an inferior technology, while they withheld the much superior system she'd seen demonstrated in Gabriel's ship. It wasn't just an abstract theory that they refused to publish. As a practical matter people died trying to achieve the same thing they already knew how to do. Did they have blood on their hands? She liked April and didn't want to have to feel that way about her.
Examining it from what bits and pieces of the total picture she had left her with conflicted feelings. The three of them didn't force the Earthies to take risks. They could have followed a safer more conservative development path and not lost people. It was the drive to be first, not only for the glory but to get out there and claim real estate and resources. Was the blame on the Earthies or The Three, as Gabriel called them? Or a little of both?
If The Three had offered their own jump technology to everybody what would have happened? Lee had to admit she didn't have enough information to know with any certainty. She'd have to know how their drive worked to know on what terms it could be shared. Her own experiences with Earth, and North America in particular, colored her thinking. She'd been treated very badly there. It wasn't just a refusal to act on certain standards. Earthies didn't even seem to agree with her on the basics of what constituted proper behavior.
Not every Earth person. Gordon had made that painfully clear to her. Her relatives in North America had gone out of their way to help her. Even others she'd met, the fellow her cousin hired to drive her and his mom had treated her well. Her hired security acted with a morality that seemed to extend well beyond what their contracts had demanded. It just seemed that any time their government was involved, kindness and morality went out the window. Why? It seemed universal from the highest level down to the negative tax clerk her cousin had to mollify to get housing. It wasn't just the judge who had declared Gordon an animal and felt free to turn her life upside down without even a token consultation with her. Every agency that had claimed an interest in her visit to Earth had been in conflict with her, and even with each other.
Her cousin had given her lessons on appeasing officials and getting along while she lived with them briefly on Earth. Lee couldn't find it in her heart to blame him for not rebelling and actively opposing his tyrannical government. She had no doubt he'd made the correct assessment that doing so would throw his life away in an empty gesture. He had limited resources and ability, and there just wasn't any public support for such a course of action from what she'd seen living with them.
Then she came to a sudden realization that April and her friends had rebelled against that same government. The situation back then on Home, and the people around them, must have been much different than how her cousin lived. The trouble with reading history was the underlying mood of the people was hard to know. Either it read like public opinion was irrelevant, and history was shaped by a few strong personalities, or the writer held forth their own opinions as absolute truth.
Somebody, Lee couldn't remember who, told her Home moved out beyond the Moon to get away from the constant sniping and threat from Earth. So their independence wasn't settled and firmly held even after they won their war for independence. What if North America and the other Earthies had the superior drive The Three owned? How would things have happened? Trying to visualize the possible events with that as a starting point, Lee was pretty sure the L1 limit would have been unenforceable. The Solar System would be militarized factions now, and Humanity would have burst forth across a much bigger sphere of space.
By the time she was born the Badgers and their allies would have been well within the Human sphere, certainly overrun not bypassed, because they went unarmed in ships. As much as she hated to admit it, Humans hadn't treated other races very well. The Derf were a happy aberration due to one decent Human who many saw as a traitor to his race. Lee originally thought the aboriginal races were treated well and their outer systems untouched due to common decency, but then she'd found out it was threats from Central that prevented the exploitation of their resources.
Realistically, the Badgers, Bills, and other races in their group, as well as her friends Talker and his daughter Tish would be ruled right now by Human administrators if The Three hadn't retarded Human expansion. Their lives and choices would have been pushed aside by people just like Judge Morse, who had treated her and hers with such contempt. Lee suspected Humans would have treated her friends far worse than the Biters with which they were currently in conflict. Biters seemed to be raiders, not conquerors.
That was April's contention, Lee remembered, that they wanted to slow down Human expansion until the character of Human civilization matured into something less full of strife. Rather than condemn April and her friends for arrogance, Lee found herself in the uncomfortable position of thinking them too optimistic that time alone would see Humanity grow into a gentler less aggressive culture. Lee just didn't see it realistically happening. Were there people in ancient times patiently waiting for Rome to become a gentler kinder empire?
She needed more facts, but what pieces she had made Lee conclude The Three weren't stupid. Even informed by hind-sight, their desire to retard Human expansion looked reasonable. Looking at it cold-bloodedly and unemotionally, far fewer people would be harmed by withholding their drive tech than offering it. Especially if you counted the well being of non-Human people.
So, why hadn't they tried to dissuade Lee from her desire to explore? The only conclusion Lee could come to was that her voyage wasn't as deep as it seemed to her. That while deep in the way Humans were exploring with the current jump drive, it wasn't a great enough leap in reach to upset them, compared to the capability The Three enjoyed with their drive. Lee was likely underestimating how far and how fast they could go based on her one trip with Gabriel. He didn't really brag he was showing her what the ship could do, did he?
The actual amount of research Lee had read was tiny, but the analysis and soul-searching it provoked was significant and worthwhile. Looking at the clock in the corner of the screen she'd stayed up three hours after Gordon. She was tired and needed to go to bed, but she didn't trust herself to remember her conclusions in the morning. Lee forced herself to write a few notes about it before she closed her files and shut down the screen. Gordon would probably wonder why she slept in past him in the morning, but at least she had something worth discussing with him. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
* * *
In the morning Lee took a bath. Derf washed over a drain and combed out their fur if very dirty, then rinsed in a common tub, much like Japanese. The Derf did not linger in the bath idly, even if they had no immediate assignment, it just looked bad, and the Mothers would find something to occupy anyone who appeared to have too much leisure time. So Lee had the entire bath house to herself. Sized for Derf, the pool was near big enough for her to do laps.
Lee scrubbed clean and rinsed, but didn't soak, even though she thought it silly waste of the hot tub. A great deal of her work was thinking, and meditating in a warm bath was a good change of pace to let new thoughts flow. Insisting on visible activity just for appearance sake made people think up pointless make work, and stole time that might yield thoughtful contemplation. But then the Mothers didn't have a history of welcoming new thoughts from outside their ranks. That was changing now, just a little. They still didn't want every cook and carpenter constantly flooding them with new ideas. She put on clean clothes and ate a ration bar because she was too late for breakfast.
Despite thinking the Mothers silly for wanting to see everybody busy, she was similarly worried about her fleet crew not having anything to do. Since Gordon told her about some of them wanting to sell voyage shares she wondered if they were having trouble finding work. It's true they were just hired crew for the most part. Most of the Fargoers would be returning home. Lee and Gordon would keep a basic crew for the High Hopes, but that was only three people. The clan members were clan for life, and if most of them weren't busy they were an economic drag on the whole clan. Even the clan members who came along on the Sharp Claws to train went back to other jobs in the clan until the Mothers needed their spacer skills again.
The Mothers indicated the Sharp Claws would sit at dock most of the time, with a caretaker or two between assignments, once the political situation with Earth settled. There would be a rotation of crew up to be trained two or three at a time, and occasional cruises, so a few more able spacers would be furloughed soon.
Most of their other crew were let go at the end of the voyage. Her responsibility for their livelihood ended once they were paid off, but she was still fretting about it even if it wasn't strictly her obligation. She somehow assumed they would be absorbed back into other ships or enterprises, but she didn't really know. She'd never had to look for a job or a lot of other common things normal people did day to day. The closest she'd come to that sort of life had been staying with her relatives in Northern Michigan. She had dealt with a public bus station and even went in a retail store and picked out made to size clothing.
Now she was wondering about the actual effect of dozens of specialized spacers dumped on the economy of Derfhome. It wasn't like Fargone that had a planetary economy that could support an active full time military. Red Tree was the only clan owning several ships, and the only one owning an armed ship now. Most of the population still lived in the clan keeps, and you didn't go apply to belong to a clan like a job. There was very little exchange between clans or from trading towns if you didn't have a needed skill. Red Tree had absorbed some new people when Gordon started the war with North America. He'd found three clan Derf with both space and military experience who wanted to bring their families into Red Tree clan.
Lee had never asked why they wanted to leave their old clan or if they came by way of trade towns having left their clan already. It seemed like something she should have asked Gordon, and she made a mental note to do so now. Did the other clans owning trade ships even hire outside crew? The sheer size of Derf meant a lot of Human ships probably wouldn't hire Derf crew, even if a ship could be configured to allow them access. It was an expense and a burden on life support to accommodate Derf. Of course their size and strength was an asset too, if you were lucky enough to find a new world worth exploring.
Obviously her parents had felt that it was well worth moving partitions and making room for Gordon on their explorer, but they never told her about that. He had experience, more than them actually, having gone on other voyages of exploration. He had the prize rings in his ears to prove it. Yet Lee had never asked him about those previous trips, and he wasn't very good at volunteering things. Had he served in other mixed vessels or was there an all Derf explorer?
It wasn't just the recent history between the Moon and Earth she needed to know, Lee realized. She had a whole long list of questions about Gordon's past she never thought to ask, on top of most of Human history, of which she had only the sketchiest outline of from her education. It was all more than a little bit overwhelming adding up everything she didn't know.
Chapter 12
"Did you sleep poorly?" Gordon asked with concern when Lee found him working back in his room. Perhaps he thought she had a recurrence of the nightmares she once suffered.
"I stayed up and looked to see what my search gathered about the Lunar governments. I didn't get all that much read," Lee admitted, "but it provoked a lot of thought and questions."
"For April, or her sovereign should we meet her?" Gordon asked.
"I have a lot of those, and I'm adding to them steadily, but I have questions for you and for the Mothers," Lee hesitated and frowned, "and Admiral Hawking most likely."
"None surprise me but the Admiral," Gordon said. "What would you need him to answer?"
"It occurred to me that one solution to having the Little Fleet stand down and letting all this expertise dissipate," Lee said, with a scattering gesture, "is to send them back out again. I didn't think of doing that because I want to go, but I shouldn't make it all about me. I was being a little silly about that. Better to keep them active and busy than to have to almost start from scratch later just because I had to take time to go to the Moon and to create a claims organization here. That way, when I can go out again, there will still be at least the core of our fleet preserved."
"You don't need Admiral Hawking's permission to do that," Gordon said.
"Not his permission, but his cooperation. He said if we went back into the deep unknown he'd want to send another armed vessel along for all the original reasons they went with us before," Lee said. "I'll have the Sharp Claws tied up using it, and you want the Retribution here guarding Derfhome, don't you?" Lee asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid that may be a permanent necessity," Gordon admitted. "I'm still thinking on how to break that to the Mothers. I fear they're not going to want to hear it."
"Then we either need to buy some sort of armed vessel or persuade Hawking to loan us something again. If he doesn't want another cruiser tied up, what I'm seeing is a destroyer seems to be plenty of firepower for everything we've run into."
"So far," Gordon agreed cautiously. He thought about it a little. "But two destroyers have almost as much weapons capability as a cruiser. They just lack radar as powerful."
"Let that be our back-up position, negotiating," Lee said.
"Do you want to run back to Fargone to persuade the Admiral?" Gordon asked.
"I'm not sure I should take the time. When am I going to get the Claims Commission organized? And now the Mothers want me to run back to Earth and that's a big enough project all on its own, and how patient are the Mothers going to be if I don't get that show on the road?"
"On the other hand, I'd also like to get some commitment from Hawking to lend naval support to our commission claims. There are lots of Fargoers who have claims from our voyage, maybe a majority, so it seems like he, they, would have an interest in protecting their claims. But he never actually said that, so maybe it will take a higher level of persuasion to get him . . ." Lee stopped this stressed monologue and just looked bewildered and exasperated.
"What's the matter dear?" Gordon asked, gently.
"It's too much. I can't do it all. Something will get short changed or done poorly, and it's all too important to mess up! What do I do? How did I get trapped like this?" Lee asked.
"Hmmm, Dr. Ames doesn't offer cloning services yet does he?" Gordon asked.
"Don't you dare be amused by me. This isn't just about me. This affects all our crew and the whole of Derfhome. It impacts your clan," Lee said, deliberately trying to touch a nerve with him, "even if you don't care about the others."
"I multi-task," Gordon said, "although not to the degree you seem to think possible. I can be both amused and concerned at the same time. It impacts Fargone, the Badger civilization, and Earth too. I suspect ripples of these issues will touch New Japan and even Central and its allies too, though you may have a hard time convincing them of that, as isolationist as they both are." Gordon scrunched his nose up in thought. "It even affects the Biters for good or bad, and they may the only players in this who I can't find it in me to care about."
"Alright, advise me Father," Lee said, with unusual formality.
Gordon tilted his head to acknowledge her tone. "It would seem circumstances have come to a point where you are going to be forced to learn to delegate," He said, and let it at that.
Lee sat, still as a statue, but blinking rapidly thinking about that. It obviously didn't make her happy and she took her time before she formulated her next question.
"How can I possibly decide which one to hand off to somebody?" she finally asked.
"You really know the answer to that, if you weren't so emotionally close to the issues, and so frazzled. If you slept on it I'm sure you'd sort it out and tell me in the morning," Gordon said. "But just to move things along. Which one can't you hand off under any circumstances?"
"Oh, the Mother charged me personally to go to Central and speak for them," Lee decided. "I can't foist that off on anyone, because it's the only one imposed on me from without."
"Got it in one," Gordon agreed, pleased.
"The same argument the Mothers applied to me works for you," Lee said. "You know Admiral Hawking. As a first task will you go to Fargone and speak for us to get his support for both an escort for a new expedition, and support for his citizen's claims?"
"It would be my pleasure. You are the majority partner and I'm second. Would you give me a letter that says I speak with your voice also for the High Hopes Exploratory Association?"
"I will give you a letter, but I like how Heather did things with a physical token of authority. I want to start doing that. Remember how the Republic guard jumped back when Gabriel thrust her ring in his face? You'd have thought it was going to flash lightning and sear him." Lee stripped her fancy knife off her belt and offered it back to Gordon. "Strap that on your wrist and if you want to be dramatic lay it before them and announce you speak for me before you act as spox for the Association. I'll say in the letter it's the physical symbol of your authority."
"I like that," Gordon agreed. "They've all seen it and made a point of it on Bode's show."
"So, that takes care of one problem," Lee said. "Now, who can you get to start organizing our Claims Commission? Somebody to get an office and recruit the sort of workers you need to keep records and communicate about business. Somebody to accept bids on developing those claims and resources, and to recruit banks, because we need to start getting pay-outs for our crew. I can't see how that is going to happen unless we encourage more banks to make a market in the shares. It makes sense to favor the Bank of Derfhome, but I doubt they have the assets to buy as many shares as will be offered."
"Yes. If I may suggest," Gordon said, "banks often spread out loans and stock offerings between them to reduce risk. Perhaps one of the officers of the bank could accompany you to Central and offer some of the Earth banks a shot at buying Little Fleet shares. The banks are also in a better position to screen bidders for ability to perform in developing the claims on which they are bidding."
"There was an older lady, Sally," Lee remembered. "She was Human, which would probably be a better fit with Earth bankers. I suspect otherwise we might be fighting against prejudices, and for right now I'd rather be getting their business than trying to educate them. She seemed very sharp. The bank is paying her, I'm not sure it would be good to offer her pay beyond that. Better to have clear who she represents, without possible conflicts of interest, but we could offer to buy her life extension therapy while in the Earth system. It seems to me that would be a powerful inducement to accompany us at her age."
"Sally Goldstein-Singh," Gordon said. "Yes, I'll approach her on behalf of the Association to go with you. I'll have to explain exactly what we're offering. I do have a minor little picky request of my own. I don't mind offering claims shares to the parent office, if Sally wants to do so, but I'd rather not work through the particular branch that is The Discount Bank of Jerusalem and Credit Suisse - Ganymede at Derfhome."
"I don't blame you," Lee agreed. "I'll leave you to remind Sally why we feel that way. That only leaves who to get to organize a second expedition with a reduced fleet."
"Who is the most able executive to command you know?" Gordon asked.
"You, but I already have you tied up here fleshing out a Claims Commission."
"Bah! You are being kind, and flattering me, or you haven't been paying attention," Gordon insisted. "I'm a decent tactician, and I can knock heads together without any subtlety when idiots like the Badgers and Bills try to obstruct us from outside. But who put the fear in the crew day to day, to keep them sharp and everything running up to snuff?"
"Oh, Thor scared the snot out of anybody who dare questioned him, or you for that matter," Lee added. "I remember he said you were too nice."
"And he was right," Gordon admitted. "I actually find it harder to be tough about all the little issues and requests than the big ones. I like to accommodate my own people and make them happy. He really doesn't care if they hate his guts as long as they snap to orders."
"Sometimes I have a hard time with Thor," Lee admitted.
"Thor would actually be the logical one to go speak to Hawking as fleet commander," Gordon suggested.
"No," Lee said, without hesitation. "I wouldn't trust him not to alienate the Admiral or other Fargoers. I've seen you get along with Hawking just fine."
"As you will, but a word of advice. You can limit yourself to only recruiting people you like," Gordon counseled, "but it really limits the selection. From personal experience, it makes it much harder to fire them."
"Mmm . . . that's similar to something Jesus once told me, that you limit your chances of success if you are scared to hire somebody smarter than you," Lee said.
"Just those two principles of business management can put you way ahead of the rest of the pack," Gordon said.
"I'll talk to Thor after supper and see if he's even interested," Lee promised.
* * *
"Yeah sure," Thor said quickly, far too easily for Lee's comfort. Lee expected a lot more argument and jockeying for advantage.
"Is there anything more you want, in exchange for leading a reduced command?"
"Four shares instead of two as commander. If you aren't sending along a business manager or bean counter I want the right to award bonus shares for special service just like Gordon did on our first voyage."
"Done, easily," Lee agreed.
"If you can get Fargone to send an escort again, make sure they have a political spox on board." He thought about it a moment. "Even send one along if we have to carry him, as long as he'll help out when needed. I know for a fact the Third Mother doesn't want to go out again. You might ask the Mothers if they would send an emissary with limited powers for Red Tree. Somebody like they would send to a trade town. I like not having to play the politician. I don't think I'd do it very well at all. I lack subtlety."
"Such a polite word. Gordon is talking to Admiral Hawking about an escort. Perhaps they will send a spox again. I'll see what I can do," Lee promised.
Lee braced herself for Thor to ask why he wasn't talking with the Fargoers. Maybe he considered that playing politics, because he skipped right over it.
"Are you sure you need the Sharp Claws?" Thor demanded, saving that issue for last.
"What would I take? Commercial?" Lee asked. "How would that look? How serious can you take a negotiator who shows up on somebody else's unarmed ship? I had people who didn't like me. Who followed me to the Moon. I'm not sure I could feel safe in the Earth system without an armed ship."
"I can see that," Thor agreed. "I think you need to look forward. You're going to need this sort of transportation from time to time. Maybe you should get a purpose-built ship instead of tying a destroyer up. It'll be cheaper in the long run. If you don't need it personally it'll be an asset. You can send somebody off in it as your spox. You can even score some points with Talker or others by lending it out. Start it now. Why waste the time until you return?"
"How fast can they make one now?" Lee asked, surprised.
"Just months. Hardly a hand touches it until the final fitting," Thor assured her, "not until they put the pads and linens on the bunks, and stock the pantry and kitchen with stuff."
"I don't want an unarmed courier," Lee insisted.
"Call it something else then, perhaps a corvette. As fast as a courier but with a couple X-heads on exterior mounts, not interior tubes because you wouldn't be carrying spares to reload anyway."
"How can I get any decent radar on something that small?" Lee asked. "We were talking about getting Fargone to send a couple destroyers if they won't send a cruiser, but even that didn't thrill us because they don't have enough hull surface to mount a decent radar."
"Talk to the engineers," Thor suggested. "If you don't have to use the radar under full acceleration they can mount antennas on fold out wings," he said, swinging true hands to each side palms out to illustrate the idea. "You might have to cut back to, I don't know, one G or two Gs to deploy them. But it's better than not having them at all."
"I'm not sure I have that kind of cash free." Lee said. "We were talking about dabbling in the markets for shares when the banks start trading them."
Thor definitely looked amused. "Borrow the money. The ship itself is collateral. You have land. You have other, more valuable ships, if they insist on more security. If they aren't insane anybody who knows your business dealings, who knows you have most of the prize earnings of a class A world, would advance you the money as a personal loan against your word. I would if I had it," Thor assured her. "Ask New Japan and Fargone for bids against each other."
"I'd rather Fargone, because we're citizens there now," Lee said.
"That's fine. You aren't obligated to take the low bid, but it's too tempting to lard the bill out if they think they're getting the sale dropped in their laps," Thor insisted.
"I might do that," Lee agreed. "And ask a couple sources for the financing too."
"Now you're getting into it," Thor said with approval.
"Nothing else you want, since I won't give up the Sharp Claws?" Lee asked.
"Not from you. I'll have to see who will sign with me. I have a mental list already. I'm sure I'm not going to get everybody I want, but I'll try."
* * *
"You look less stressed," Gordon observed at breakfast in the morning.
"Yes, I only have one near impossible scary task now," Lee said. "Easy peasy."
"Wow, you've been reading classic literature again," Gordon said.
"Not lately. That stuck with me from awhile back. But I'll get back into reading and old video again if things ever settle down so I have actual spare time," Lee vowed.
"You could read on the run to jump," Gordon suggested. "No need for you to watch a board. You'll have a good pilot and you won't be jumping into strange systems."
"I will, but I'm going to read history. More recent stuff than what my dad had me reading. Or the summaries from our searches about Central. I was thinking it might be more like five or six years before I might read something just for fun again. There's too much that needs reading right now."
"Gabriel may be right," Gordon decided. "I can't imagine you planning to do something five or six years in the future before you had life extension therapy."
"Well, we'll see if it changes your view of things in a few years," Lee said. She didn't take offense at the idea Gabriel might have been right about something. "I can't imagine with enough money thrown at it we won't make it work for Derf too.
"One hopes," Gordon admitted, seeming more concerned with breakfast.
"Thor will command an expedition," Lee revealed. That didn't seem to surprise Gordon at all. "Are you going to see if you can talk to Sally Goldstein-Singh?"
"I got the impression she is at the bank just about every day," Gordon said. "I thought I'd call soon after our breakfast, which is late morning for them, after people have a chance to deal with overnight messages and other distractions, and before they are hungry for lunch, to call. I know she's one of the senior partners, but I need to inquire if they have any order of seniority among themselves. I'll talk to her head first if she has one. It would be better to ask for her than put her in the position of asking to be reassigned to us."
"Good, I wouldn't have thought of that," Lee admitted. "I liked how outspoken she was. I'd rather have somebody like that promoting our finds than somebody who plays word games and doesn't speak plainly. I feel there is less chance of misunderstandings across different cultures and customs."
"I don't think that would be a problem with Sally," Gordon agreed.
Lee looked at her plate funny. "I don't remember having scrambled eggs before. Is this a new thing?"
"It is. There's a fellow in the town where we stayed before. He's selling fresh eggs and frozen chicken breasts, the rest is made into animal feed. He has a sales route and brings eggs around twice a week. He swears that by next year he'll have freeze dried powdered eggs at a reasonable price too. The Mothers like to buy long-term stable food, especially proteins."
"The postman doesn't bring them around?" Lee said. "I'm sorry he got cut out."
"I like the old fellow too, but the Mothers have been buying a thousand eggs a week. I'm afraid they wouldn't fit in his truck, and there are others customers along his route too."
"A thousand would mean a small portion once a week for everybody," Lee figured out.
"Yes, but if you can count well enough to figure that out, then you must know we don't see everybody in the clan breakfasting in the Great Hall. Boxed breakfasts get delivered much earlier than you want to get up to a lot of residences and work places. Some people cook for themselves and prefer that to needing to be up and out, active before breakfast. There are even a few shift workers who want breakfast in the evening. They don't all get the fancy stuff. They don't distribute eggs or coffee to home cooks. Rank has its privileges you know."
For a second Gordon thought she was going to condemn such privilege. He was sure Lee would have objected to such inequality not so long ago, and felt guilty over it.
"Well, I'll try to be worth it," was all she said now. Gordon was pleased not to need to defend it.
* * *
"This is Gordon of Red Tree. I'd like to speak with someone at the director level about our Association and personal accounts and make some business proposals."
"Yes sir, you are tagged to be connected directly to the director level," their com specialist informed him, but she stopped when he made restraining gesture.
"I'm not certain about your internal structure, are the directors equal, or is there seniority among them?" Gordon asked.
"I'm too low in the organization for such a thing to have ever been explicitly explained to me," the young woman admitted. "I would have connected you to Director Darius before you asked this question. May I suggest he could better answer your question, and connect you to him?"
"Go ahead," Gordon allowed. If he was stepping on toes to even ask, well there was no help for that now.
"Good morning Gordon. What can we do for you?" The Derf director answered.
"Darius, I don't want to offend anybody by bypassing rank. I've never asked if your board has a hierarchy, or you are equals. I want to make a request, but from the top down."
"I see," Darius said, looking mildly concerned. "It must be an unusual or controversial request for you to be so formal. We are technically equals. There are six directors at the moment. If we voted on something time in service would be ignored, but realistically we rarely take a formal vote. We only do that most of the time to have a record as to our conclusions, because we don't often record the discussion by which we arrive at a decision. We simply discuss things until there is a reasonable consensus, and expertise or time in service is informally weighed in those discussions. Sometimes we excuse ourselves when we feel something is too far outside our experience."
"Thank you, it is indeed a large proposal I want to make on behalf of the Exploratory Association, and I wanted to be careful how I presented it. You are aware we are in agreement with the bank making loans against the High Hopes Exploratory Association crew shares?" Gordon asked.
"Yes, that is a large enough undertaking we all discussed it," Darius remembered, "and I recall you suggested it would be acceptable to make a public market in the shares with offerings and prices bid and asked."
"That's correct, but we are looking to possibly expand that even more. There is enough real wealth in those claims that we hoped the Bank of Derfhome might lend a hand in organizing the actual Commission to manage it. We anticipate a larger volume of bids and sales of claim rights than you or perhaps even all the Derf banks can handle. We intend to send another expedition into the unknown. It would be good, and responsible, to have an orderly way of handling the claims of the Association before another wave of claims hits the market."
"Yes, we're realistic about how much we can buy, and if there isn't a liquid market in shares that may hurt their value no matter how large the underlying value," Darius worried.
"By all means, let's avoid that," Gordon agreed. "As a claim holder that's something of personal interest. I also don't want difficulty getting crew, or the quality of crew we wish, because of doubt they can get paid for their efforts in a timely manner. We would use our private accounts to support the value of shares if we had to, but of course we'd rather not see it become necessary.
"My daughter is going to go back to the Moon, the Earth's Moon that is, to have talks about our clan's relationship with Central and their lunar allies. Some of the issues are more political than commercial, but we hoped the bank would consent to sending a representative along, to have separate talks. The purpose being to recruit Earth banks and Solar banks to deal in claims. I leave it to you to tell me on what terms you could solicit such business. We already deal personally with the Bank of Ceres," Gordon reminded them. "Perhaps that would be a start since they know us and see our cash flow from the Earth Claims Commission. Could they act as Solar agent for the Association too?"
"This is exactly the scale of business that requires several directors to consult, and all of us to be fully informed eventually," Darius said. "I can call at least two other directors to do a conference call or you can come in and talk to us face to face," Darius offered.
"My daughter expressed interest in having Sally Goldstein-Singh sent with her. We weren't sure it wouldn't be a conflict to pay her beyond what the bank does, but we recently found that there is a life extension treatment for Humans available at Central and would be very happy to sponsor her for those treatments as a bonus for the extra duty. So if we conference she should be one of the participants," Gordon asked.
"Is your daughter going to conference with us?" Darius inquired.
"No, she has other matters keeping her busy, and asked me to arrange this. I also have to run to Fargone to arrange some things, so a conference on com would be better if the others are free," Gordon requested.
"Let me see if Sally and at least one another director are free to speak with us," Darius said. "If they are we can discuss this right now."
"That would work. I'll hold," Gordon offered. Darius didn't shut the feed down, he got up and left, leaving Gordon looking at the wood grain panel behind his desk. At least he didn't torment him with insipid music or unwanted video.
When Darius came back he split the screen between himself, Sally, Goldilocks, who Gordon already knew, and another Derf who was introduced as Picasso. Derf tended to chose a Human name from someone they admired, not necessarily of the same gender, but of similar interests. Gordon didn't recognize that one. He'd look it up later.
The directors agreed Sally was a good choice. Thankfully Gordon didn't have to say the Derf might face prejudice trying to do business in the Earth system. None of them were stupid. He was sure they realized that. Sally had actual experience with Earth banking systems so that was a plus, although she had no idea what banking was like in the system but off Earth.
Sally suggested bundling fractional shares to a standard size and selling them as securities. It took a bit of explaining for Gordon to understand the details. Picasso suggested simplifying the bidding process to include fractional rights for something like a space station or orbital com net, to open it up to smaller investors as partners.
Sally didn't seem near as excited at the idea of life extension as he expected. She had critical questions about its value and safety. When Gordon finally mentioned Lee had taken the treatments Sally asked why he hadn't said that first. It put her doubts to rest. Picasso apologized for going off topic, but wondered if the tech was available for Derf. Gordon admitted he hoped to see it adapted for his own use, but there weren't any promises yet.
At the last Sally surprised him by saying that if the assignment lasted too long, or if Derfhome contract requirements became too burdensome, she might become an employee of the Exploratory Association, and take a leave of absence from the bank. Gordon looked at her coworkers quickly to see if they were upset by that, but it didn't seem to have any impact.
"I didn't intend to poach the bank's talent when I asked for Sally," Gordon said.
"It would be a legalistic distinction," Darius said, waving it away as unimportant with a true hand. "We'd all still be working for a common goal, and it would just make publishing public contracts somewhat less burdensome. Also it would give the competition, such as Earth banks, less information about our dealings. They unfortunately know about Derf contract reporting requirements. The summary of published contracts is one of the first data dumps a ship arriving from Derfhome has no trouble selling at a premium in the Earth system. If you had to pay her salary, in addition to the bonus you are kindly offering, it wouldn't be any significant sum in comparison to the whole endeavor."
"Tell me if that looks like the way to go, and I'll put you on the payroll. I guess you'd recover her salary from us, and then some, if she's working for the bank. So it doesn't really matter by which channel she gets paid," Gordon told Darius.
"Right now, give me a verbal OK," Sally requested. "I'll hire an office manager to find a secure building that can house a dozen workers comfortably. We'll get two data guys and a document designer to start. Then we'll talk about what else you need."
"You have my OK," Gordon said, "and I'm supposed to tell you we'll have Badger and Bill advice available on what are reasonable forms and fees from their viewpoint. We're not going to have a vast bureaucracy with thousands of workers!" None of the directors even thought it necessary to reply to that.
By the time they were done both he and the bank directors had worked through lunch. He considered seeing what they could spare him in the kitchens between meals, but decided it was too close to supper. Gordon got a sweet ration bar from his little luggage emergency kit, and decided that and a nap was all he wanted. He did an inquiry of the web fraction they owned while he ate the bar. It didn't make any sense to him. Picasso seemed to be an artist celebrated for very geometric paintings and drawings which looked to Gordon like what a young cub would do before understanding perspective. Oh, well . . . He closed the bigger machine down and set his pad not to let him sleep past supper. He wondered what Lee was doing since she hadn't interrupted him for hours while he dealt with the bank.
Chapter 13
Lee was too busy to be worried about what Gordon was doing. She wrote a very general description of the sort of vessel she wanted built. Saying it would be smaller than a destroyer and most likely larger than a fast courier. As Thor said, best to have people working on that before she left. She encouraged the yards to suggest anything they thought appropriate for the intended use. Perhaps they would offer ideas or designs of which she or Thor would never think. Rather than call it a corvette such as Thor suggested, she described it as a diplomatic vessel. She was encouraged to find on briefly researching it, that there was a history of naval vessels transporting executive or diplomatic staff.
The mission itself Lee was less certain about. She'd rather meet Heather and deal with her directly rather than through peers. She liked April, but to her that was actually another reason to talk to Heather. She could easily see herself holding back from speaking bluntly with April for fear of alienating her. Lee was curious about Jeff Singh, but only because he was one of The Three, as Heather's subjects styled them. She had an image of him as overly aggressive from the things Gabriel told her, and she'd rather not deal with aggressive people, they roused feelings in her she didn't like.
Lee put two columns on her pad, one with the header, "Things to request." and the other, "Things to offer." She sat looking at them awhile totally blocked. She couldn't think of anything which Red Tree or she could offer Central that they needed. A mutual defense treaty seemed silly, because Central could defend themselves far better than Red Tree could defend themselves. If called upon to render aid the help could only go one way. There was no equality there.
Their claims along a line to the Badger civilization were vast, by Earth standards, but Central had faster ships that could range further. It was hard to believe they hadn't found their own sources of metals. They might even have found the same sort of brown dwarf systems that proved so rich for The Little Fleet. The Fleet found just a limited arch of such systems. If their people had a correct understanding of how they formed, there might be a huge sphere dotted with such treasure troves. Indeed they had evidence Central had abandoned at least one rich mining site for copper. That suggested they had better or more convenient. Nothing was suggesting itself, and she needed somebody to talk to about it, better than the wall. Somebody who would at least look interested, and nod once in awhile, to encourage her to keep going.
Gordon was assigned a task of his own. Lee didn't want to interrupt him to use him as a sounding pad for her own burden. It wasn't fair and it looked bad. She wanted to succeed at this without needing her hand held all the way through. Thor likewise was busy with an assignment, and Lee didn't want to give him something new to hold over her head. Thor might be loyal, but he was still constantly contrarian and critical. He might mean well by it, but it bothered her. Also she felt he'd feel free to discuss her shortcomings with Gordon. It seemed to Lee she was a project for constant improvement in his eyes.
It occurred to her to confide in the Third Mother. She had been along with them on the voyage of The Little Fleet. She worked well with aliens and would know the spacer perspective from which Lee spoke. But she was the lesser member and might feel the need to ask the other Mothers before she spoke freely. They'd already made clear what they wanted. Seeking more detailed instructions could easily look desperate and incompetent. It might even undermine their confidence in sending her if she appeared to be struggling with what to do.
The only other person available of whom Lee could think, who she trusted deeply, who had the sort of calm manner and thinking ability to banter back and forth with her until she worked through to a solution was Talker. He wouldn't get upset if she threw out something silly just thinking out loud. He had a sense of humor, better than a lot of Humans she knew. He would recognize that a "What if?" was just that, and not a final decision to strike terror in his heart, until it was looked at from every angle and accepted or rejected.
Lee punched in his com code and tried to look serene. It wasn't natural.
Talker answered with a mug in his hand. He loved coffee, and Lee immediately wondered if he was trying some of the Derfhome grown brew, so she asked him.
"Indeed, it is local stuff," Talker agreed. "I find it a little less wonderful than Gordon's private stock. I still remember how good that was. It didn't even need sweetened. But I'm a poor judge. I have yet to find any bad coffee. I hope by the time I go back to Far Away they are cultivating coffee there. Otherwise my habit will be ruinous to support if it must be star goods.
"However, I doubt you called to discuss my caffeine addiction. You are trying to look calm, but your face is a lie. I can see something is stressing you. Is it anything with which I can be of help, Friend?"
That reminder of their relationship he tacked on was just what Lee needed to convince her she'd called the right person. But she wasn't ready to pour forth the whole thing just yet.
"Tell me what you are doing, and what's happening there." Lee asked. "Do you have any time to sit and talk to me?"
"I'd make time to talk to you, but I'm not sure I have the depth to advise you on matters as serious as your expression indicates this is," Talker worried.
"Even if you just sit and listen it might help me," Lee said. "When you have to express yourself to others it aids organizing your thoughts greatly."
"I know exactly the phenomena of which you speak," Talker said, smiling. "I recently saw a phrase in English and had to research it. Apparently the mind operates differently speaking to another person, and there are limits to how much we can fool ourselves trying to explain something to the sky or a blank wall. The expression was in regard to computer programming. A person was advised to 'rubber duck' a problem. It turns out that means explaining it to a child's bath toy. Apparently that is sufficient to trigger the change in thinking.
"The truth is I contracted with locals to build a small compound for our consulate. I have private quarters for both myself and Singer at opposite ends, and a pleasant central courtyard in between. So here I sit, listening to hammering and power tools, watching them turn that courtyard into a lovely garden, sipping coffee and taking my ease. I'm not really doing anything of importance, so I am free to be your rubber duck though I'll try to be more useful.
"I am informed it is not really an embassy until I am acknowledged by local powers and can present my documents of authority. It surprised me that it will be finished to my custom specifications in just a few weeks. We still take much longer to build something this substantial on Far Away. I am enjoying spending Timilo's money, well, his department's money, the same thing to me. We will have an official party to dedicate the facility in a week or so, and I'll feed all our delegation and make nice - nice as you taught me. Perhaps it will make them realize things are under control and they can go home. I have not performed an official act yet to earn my pay, but I stand ready.
"Should I find somebody to suggest they head back home?" Lee asked.
"No, no . . . these sort of people, it would only make them resist the idea to suggest it. Better we just ignore them until it becomes obvious even to the dullest of them that they are superfluous now."
"The Mothers seem unaccountably fond of you." Lee made a little face to tell him not to think too much of himself. It didn't work, he positively beamed. "They mentioned your visit and seemed surprised you didn't come back with Gordon and me. If you want to visit, you can gauge if the time is right for presenting your credentials to Red Tree, or if you should wait until the horde is on the way back home. That seems appropriate to me. In any case you can report you are making some headway with your mission. While you are here we can visit face to face, and you can allow me to bounce some ideas off you about my own mission back to Earth soon."
"You're going back so soon? Yes, that sounds like it should be an interesting story. Do you have privacy to discuss such things with me?" Talker wondered, eyes flicking to check the link status. "I know the link is secure, but are you in a secure room talking to me?"
"You don't understand the Mothers yet," Lee said. "They wouldn't understand the need to be sneaky and spy on me. They'd just call me to stand before them and explain anything they wondered and never think I'd dare mislead them. This mission to Earth is at their command. I was simply told I was called to service to the clan and there was no question I'd do it."
Talker blinked hard, a natural expression of wonder Badgers shared, not something learned from Humans.
"Perhaps they were so pleasant with me I failed to understand how autocratic they can be."
"You were a guest, I'm a clan member and just barely above being a child who must stay silent unless told to speak. Things like the financial support Gordon and I supply are simply expected, and if we thought we could politic that into undue influence they'd correct it in a heartbeat and be offended we thought it."
"I must admit, Badger society resembles Human society more closely that way," Talker said, "with unspoken privilege and favors. I have to correct my thinking. We are much more alike than what you are telling me about Derf society."
"They've had thousands of years of holding everything tight under their thumbs," Lee said. "It's a wonder they're easing up, just a little, to seek better relations with the trade towns. It's one thing for them to allow it, but they'd never accept it from without. It would be civil war.
"But you do give me an idea. If you can visit, I'll take you for a walk in the woods. I can show you some sites and teach you a little local history. We won't have to worry who is listening and besides, it's pleasant. I'll be cooped up soon enough on the Moon and one last chance to enjoy a planet and being outdoors will refresh me for awhile. Can you come?"
"It would be my pleasure," Talker agreed. "I will get away from the delegation and make excuses to leave my com when we go off to these woods. I'm too accessible here, and they pester me with questions about things that are not my concern, trivia such as all the possible uses of a word. Worse, they ask, and when I tell them they want to argue about it!"
Lee started giggling. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's not funny to you, but it's just so typical. I can see the same happening with Humans. You're right, we're so similar it's scary, even when we're being unreasonable."
"It's too late to come today," Talker said. "I'd come in late and cause a disturbance and disrupt things."
"Come tomorrow. No rush about it. The walk I have in mind I've done with Gordon before. It takes three full days if you don't want to push it, and I doubt you are in shape for a forced march. So we can go first thing, the day after tomorrow."
"Oh! It's an overnight, in the woods? I've never had occasion to do that," Talker admitted. He sounded much less enthused.
"Two nights," Lee corrected. "There's a shelter and we double back and use it both nights. It's not terribly difficult. I did it with Gordon almost two years ago. Let me check something," she said and split her pad screen. "We might get some rain the last day coming back, but nothing wearing a light slicker wouldn't fix."
"Will we take provisions?" Talker worried.
"It's just a little hike, not an expedition," Lee said. "Gordon carried everything before, but I can carry a pack for just three days. Some oatmeal and a few freeze dried meals, some frozen steaks or whatever you like in a thermal wrap. I'll bring some for you. Some clean socks and underwear for me. I'll have a small canteen, but there's water out there. You just need to run it through a filter bag."
"Is there bedding at the shelter?" Talker worried.
"I'll carry a self inflating sleeping mat. I could cut boughs from the trees to sleep on, but I'm lazy. It's quite warm still at night. I'm not even bringing a light sleeping bag. Just go to a sporting goods store and tell them you want a self inflating mattress, and a pack of sani-wipes, and a rain slicker. Most of the time we'll be walking under a dense forest canopy, but if Badgers wear hats or sunglasses bring them along."
"Very well," Talker said, but he looked distressed, "until tomorrow."
Lee disconnected, amazed. She never had Talker pegged for a city boy, a real dude. After all, on Far Away he'd lived on an estate that was basically a big farm. She'd bet if she'd asked his field foreman Amiable to take off into the woods with her he'd be good to go, and wouldn't even need to change his boots. She'd expect him to already have at least a knife and a handkerchief in his pockets.
* * *
The sales lady tried very hard to convince Talker he needed the six Human or two Derf all season tent with the heating and cooling module, large airbed and entertainment console. A wilderness auto-chef preloaded with gourmet meals, and a heated camp shower. Talker was politely listening, but already balking at the pitch. When she explained it all could be effortlessly carried along on an auto-following robotic camp mule with a three hundred kilogram load capacity and a two hundred kilometer range he flat out said, "No." The machine was expensive, Lee would laugh at it. It also really creeped him out when the sales lady said, "Come here Rover!" and it trotted up to her, its little feet clicking on the floor.
She couldn't sell him the explorer pants. The fit was way beyond just rolling the cuffs up, Badgers didn't have a real waist, but the sales lady thought she saw Talker start to break down and consider the Advanced Mountain Vest. It had eighteen pockets, pre-filled with navigation and emergency beacon, fire starting kit with picture instructions on building the traditional camp fire, first aid and personal hygiene collection, and other necessary items each in their own special pocket. Then Talker pictured the look Lee would be struggling to keep off her face if he turned up wearing it. Lee was already starting to display a preview of that look when she had disconnected their last call. So it was a no again to the sales lady.
Talker left carrying his sleeping roll, a dispenser of sani-wipes that cost four times what the same pack cost from a grocery or household store, but in a camo plastic sleeve to make it easier to lose in the woods, and a thin plastic rain slicker with hood, which self-stuffed into a pocket smaller than his fist. The sales lady was disappointed. Even with an alien whose face she couldn't read, she could tell when a customer didn't react at all to big prices, and had money to spend. She was sure she'd let a big sale slip through her fingers.
* * *
Quite late in the day Gordon reported his progress with the bank, and said he'd be going to Fargone later tomorrow, leaving the Keep in the morning. Lee thanked him and explained Talker was coming tomorrow, and she intended to retrace her previous visit to the landing site memorial she'd visited with Gordon on her first visit to Red Tree.
Gordon was uncomfortable with that. The deep Derfhome woods could be dangerous. He thought about suggesting she take a Derf as a porter to lug her stuff as he'd done for her before. But first, it wouldn't work because it would be transparent to her. Also if she asked for somebody to just carry things the Mothers would send the sort of worker easiest to spare, some teenage gardener or line cook who might not even know the woods as well as Lee, not some skilled woodsman from the fall hunt who could be a thinly veiled bodyguard.
Having Talker along fulfilled having an adult present, Gordon decided. The Badger was smart and had a few more years than Lee. He wasn't sure of Talker's exact age, but he had a nine year old daughter, ten by now maybe. He should be old enough to have good sense. He dismissed it from mind and started planning what he'd say to Hawking.
* * *
Backpacks didn't suit the Badger anatomy, so Talker put his things in a cloth bag with long handles that he could sling from the opposite shoulder and carry under his arm. Lee gave him some of the lighter food to carry, and the kitchen kindly offered them box lunches like a lot of the workers took to distant jobs. They simply put the things in their bags, Lee taking two, and passed on the awkward box, as they weren't disposable.
Lee had a satellite navigation utility on her pad, but she wanted to do the entire walk without it if she was able. It seemed clear in her memory, but if she got turned around and lost the device was there for a backup. She also brought a better camera than the one in her pad, an extravagance of weight, but she might not visit the memorial again for a long time, and she wanted better pix.
Talker had on footgear, something she's never seen on him. Not the high molded boots she'd seen his father's field foreman, Amiable, but more like ankle boots with a toggle closure. It seemed like a good idea. Instead of sunglasses he wore spex, which could be tinted as you wish and serve the same function. Talker was an early adopter of Human tech, and the frames had to be custom printed to fit his face. Lee wandered if he had navigation loaded in those, because he seldom seemed to carry a pad or phone. He might not care to be at her mercy to find his way home. That wouldn't bother her, it was just smart.
Lee found herself relating everything she could remember of Derfhome biology, and how the Derf had removed all significant competition, other large predators, before Humans arrived. Once she pointed it out, Talker became aware there were creatures in the tree tops making noise, and rarely causing a twig or seed pod to come tumbling down.
The trail was an obvious tunnel in the trees, the turn off toward the river not nearly as obvious. When Lee was with Gordon before, he’d surprised her by suddenly turning aside. She’d marked it as important to remember, just because it wasn’t marked with any sign or even a blaze or splash of paint on a tree. It was a visible trail if you looked off at where it went, but watching the trail by your feet to avoid tripping, it would be easy to walk right past it.
Lee had a rough idea where it was by time, and she remembered it was after a slight down slope that crossed a seasonal streambed, and then the trail started back up again. Whenever that combination occurred she started looking to her left, but twice the virgin woods were a solid wall. On the third glance the trail was obvious, the forest floor free of fallen branches and loose seed pods. The lower branches were trimmed where they reached too close to the path. It wasn’t as obvious a tunnel in the trees as the main trail. There was certainly no path beaten down in a visible dip, but Lee turned on it confidently. It followed the dip of the seasonal streambed she realized now. That hadn’t been obvious to her before. It made sense since it led down to a bigger stream that flowed all year.
Talker took about three steps along the main trail before he turned and followed her. Lee smiled to herself remembering she’d done the exact same thing. Gordon apparently found it as amusing as she did to see how long it would take her companion to react. They walked along a few minutes in silence and Talker had a question again.
“I have to . . . I believe the polite English expression is ease nature. Is there eventually a place along the trail with facilities?” he asked.
Lee managed not to laugh. “That’s why I had you buy sani-wipes. It would be a kindness, and is customary, to dig a hole and cover over your waste. Don’t try to dig all the way down to actual soil. The dead leaves and debris can be a meter deep. I have a little garden trowel for that purpose. Do you need to borrow it?”
Talker looked distressed, but after a brief reflection answered. “No, Badgers are great diggers. I’ll slip a shoe off and scoop a hole with my foot.” He looked like he wanted to ask more, but decided against it, and turned to the woods and walked away. Lee kept walking, although quite slowly to give him a little privacy since he looked so uncomfortable. He wasn’t that long before he caught up and seemed much happier.
When they got to the river it was much lower than when she’d been there with Gordon. Lee was relieved because she’d ridden across on Gordon’s shoulders before, and the crossing hadn’t seemed all that easy even for him. Now there were a couple places with bare rock under the chain where you could stop and rest and take stock before proceeding. Lee had pictured needing to cross hand over hand along the chain if the torrent was too strong. She had no idea if Badgers were very good swimmers, so it was a relief that way too.
Talker stood regarding the chain and its anchor with some wonder. He then tested the links and massive eyelet by touch. The chain didn’t deflect visibly this near the end from a good shove. “Do you have any idea how such a huge chunk of copper was set in the rock way out in the wilderness?”
"I didn't think to ask," Lee admitted. "One time with my folks, exploring Providence, we found a huge copper ore body. I was interested in smelting some copper and researched it a little. It wouldn't have been all that difficult to do with some charcoal or coke. I suspect they cut a hole in the rock with an undercut, heated the rock up with a fire, and set up a chimney packed to smelt copper right above it. After they cleaned the hole out, they would have broken a hole in the bottom of the chimney, to let the molten copper run right into the rock."
"I can picture that," Talker said after awhile. "It was a lot of trouble to haul all that up here and then clean up and take the smelter down and clear everything away."
"It was making an important point," Lee said. "The clan on the other side of the mountains over there wanted to claim past the mountains clear to their edge of the river. Red Tree claimed to the drainage divide at the top of the range. He said the other clan ceased to exist. I took that to mean Red Tree killed them all, two thousand years ago. The Mothers made clear that's how clans have always fought. The chain is useful to help ford here, but mainly it is a physical reminder the land on each side is bound in ownership. I heard Gordon invite one of them to tear the chain out and see what would happen. He said they had not forgotten how to wage war."
"That much was obvious from the war with North America," Talker said.
"Yeah, but this was before we went to Earth and the Moon," Lee said. "On my first visit to Red Tree, and Gordon brought me out here."
Talker looked at her surprised. "You mean you actually heard this conversation? It happened right in front of you? Not something related to you later?"
"Yeah, the cub that challenged him was on Red Tree land. He came around the shelter we're going to use. He and Gordon were faced off, and I was afraid they were going to settle it by arms. The young guy had a carbine and Gordon had an ax. I wasn't sure if Gordon was fast enough to take him. I shouldn't have worried. Gordon had a pistol tucked in his armpit. He could have taken him without throwing the ax."
"So he displayed the pistol and the young fellow backed off?" Talker asked.
"Not exactly . . . I came back from gathering firewood and followed this fellow back into camp. When things started to get really tense I drew," She demonstrated by pulling her pistol and pointing it at the sky. "I was standing behind him and I just thumbed the safety off as hard as I could." She did so now, the metallic snap of it loud, even next to the stream.
Talkers eyes were big, his ears perked up unusually straight. "You'd have shot him?"
"Damn right. If he tried to bring that carbine around to point at Gordon I'd have aimed low and let the recoil climb right up him on full auto," Lee said, pointing the gun out at the woods and showed how it would rise in an arch. She snapped the safety back on and holstered it.
"I see," Talker said.
Lee took a grip on the chain and started across. Talker decided he would do better barefooted and took his short boots off securing them in his bag. The water was never more than knee deep but splashed up their fronts waist high. After Talker wiped his fur down as much as possible and put his boots back on Lee instructed him to pick a pretty pebble from the edge of the stream, because he'd need it tomorrow, the same as Gordon had done before with her. He complied without question except a head tilt. Badgers never adopted the Human gesture of a raised eyebrow. The effect was weak on a furry face.
When they reached the shelter Talker was tired as it was a bit of a climb after they'd walked all day, and visibly dismayed. "I thought it would at least have a door, like a little cabin."
"It's still warm at night, and should be dry until the day after tomorrow sometime. Even then, a storm should blow from the west and it'll stay dry inside. The tarp on top is doubled over, and if it got really nasty you can drop it across the front opening. This is what they call a lean-to. Some of them don't even have side walls, or a floor, so this is a fancy one. It backs up to the prevailing wind and if we build a fire in front it will be cozy," Lee promised.
After brushing the platform off Lee put her light tarp down where they'd put their sleeping rolls. Talker stood back and watched. She put his bag on one corner to hold it down against any wind. He understood what she was doing and being closer to the other corner grabbed her pack to hold it down. Except the casual one handed grab didn't work. He had to brace himself over it and picking it up in both hands sort of waddled over to pin the corner down. He gave her another peculiar look, but didn't say anything.
Looking at the shelter, and then the surrounding woods, Talker was visibly uncomfortable. "Once we're tucked back in there we can't see around. Something or someone could sneak up on us," Talker worried. "We'd be trapped in a pocket."
"Not with modern surveillance electronics," Lee said, showing him the little hockey puck size sensor that was a mate to the one Gordon carried.
"Oh, I should have realized you've done this before," Talker said, placated.
"I'll sleep in the front too," Lee offered.
Talker's muzzle dropped and he looked away. Lee realized he was ashamed, but didn't know why. Her puzzlement was plain.
"I did not mean to make you repeat the basis of our friendship," Talker objected, "when you offered to sleep between my bunk and the door to ease my nightmares. That was the ultimate proof you'd befriended me even though I had to have my nose rubbed in it to see it."
"Huh . . . Don't worry about it," Lee said to ease his guilt. "I just want something furry and warm to lean back against when the fire burns down."
"I would be proud to be your pillow, Friend."
Chapter 14
The morning light came earlier on the high ground the lean-to occupied. The trees were nowhere near as dense as a few hundred meters down slope each way. Part of the reason for the location was the forest debris was thin on the rock here and it was easier to have a fire. If a camp fire got away from you on the lower ground it could burn in the deep piled debris even through a heavy downpour of rain. It made for a long devastating forest fire.
The wind also was stronger here than down in the thick woods, and the lean-to was needed. Down in the heaviest forest you could hear the wind in the tree tops and not feel the slightest breeze. Lee got the fire started again from the embers, and started breakfast. After, she showed Talker how to make sure the fire was out.
They left most of their things in the back of the lean-to, expecting to return, and there being little chance anybody would show up to use the shelter the same day, much less bother their stuff. If they did they could share. It could sleep four Derf.
"It isn't that far now to the memorial I want to show you," Lee told talker. "But that's good because we'll want to spend some time there."
He just nodded, not terribly talkative, even though she made coffee for him.
When they arrived, Lee walked them around the monument before she invited Talker to sit on a bench with her, facing the pillar of dry set stones. Lee explained the whole story of Derf - Human contact to him and related them to the plaques showing the slain crew. "The ship took them back with them so they aren't buried here," Lee explained. "The Derf put them on large wooden pyres and would have burned them like their own if the Humans hadn't reclaimed them." If Talker had researched the event or the memorial he didn't say or interrupt her.
"Now that the large stones brought by pilgrims to build the memorial are sufficient the custom is to bring a pebble to add to the pavement." Lee took her own pebble out and tossed it between the bench and memorial. They weren't a thick covering still and it might be many years before they got so deep they had to be dropped outside the circle of stone benches. Of her pebble tucked in a gap between the memorial stones, under an overturned shot glass, Lee said nothing. That was private, but she looked and it was still there.
"I've been thinking," Talker said. "The clan that Red Tree fought to retain the land on this side of the river, had lands beyond those peaks, right?"
"Yes, their lands are in the other drainage system," Lee confirmed. "It's a continental divide, since Gordon mentioned once they flow to the other ocean. Derf tend to pick natural features for boundaries, not arbitrary lines across a plain."
"I think," Talker said, with firm certainty, "if this had been done by us, by Badgers, or by Humans, we'd have taken the land on the other side of the mountains too. Especially, if it was paid for in blood, it would have been annexed. The fact it seemed outside the natural border wouldn't have mattered. Both our species seem to be more expansionistic than Derf."
"That's rather insightful. I very much appreciate your sharing that. I didn't think of it myself, and I think you are absolutely correct," Lee said.
"I'll be back," Talker said, getting up. Lee didn't know what he was going to do. He might have gone to the woods again and it wouldn't have surprised her. But he walked off around the pillar and looked at each of the bas relief plaques closely. When he eventually worked his way around the whole thing again, and rejoined her, he had his pebble in his hand and tossed it from his seat towards a thinly covered patch of ground. Lee took his hand like Badgers like to do, but it was too hard to do when they were walking along on the uneven trail.
"Perhaps you can provide another insight," Lee requested. "The Mothers are sending me back to Central, to the Moon, to speak with Lady Lewis or whatever Peer is minding the store for Heather. Perhaps I'll luck out and get to meet the Sovereign Herself." Talker had been with them meeting April at Central, so it was easier to speak with him about them. He had his own memories and insights about the people such as Gabriel and April in particular.
"The Mothers felt slighted and perhaps a bit disrespected by conducting a war and demanding a formal end and surrender from North America," Lee explained, "only to find out that the Earth nations aren't as independent as the Mothers imagined. Nor as independent and sovereign as they presented themselves. Though my thought is they may delude themselves about that. The Mothers lay blame on Central or the person of Heather for not publicly asserting control and making it clear that the Earth nations only govern themselves within the limits of Heather's pleasure. That's what the Mothers would naturally do in a similar situation.
"The fact they don't really want to manage them in detail or lay down a whole bunch of rules or laws doesn't actually help. It just puts them on an even lower level, not important enough to waste a great deal of attention on if they want to go off their own way. I'm guessing the Mothers see anyone North America, or any other Earth nation, deals with as peers, like they did Red Tree, as held in the same low regard. It offended them."
"Now, there is a great deal of dishonesty here. Some of it may indeed be Central, but I suspect if you asked North America if they were sovereign and independent they'd very vocally deny being subject to Central or its allies. They don't seem inclined to test it by armed resistance, but they wish to live the lie right up to the very edge of having to do so. Indeed, they take that official position with their own people, making it a very public lie.
"Now the Mothers wouldn't let that state of affairs prevail long at all. They'd have destroyed North America if the USNA tried to weasel out of their surrender after Gordon beat them. The Mothers told them straight out that was what they were choosing if North America refused to accept the terms of the treaty they'd repudiated before. Also, the Derf made them add teeth to the agreement in their own law, so any official ignoring it faces serious penalties.
"Central and Home on the other hand doesn't have a history of demanding total surrender. They are much more pragmatic and less absolute than the Mothers. They mainly wanted to be left alone. Indeed, they moved from orbiting Earth to out beyond the Moon just to avoid constant small conflicts. They value the Mother Planet themselves more than how they look or their political status. They seem to value it as a store of biological complexity and cultural resources more than the idiots who live there. Otherwise why would they risk Central or Home getting tired of their constant pushing and just blanket bomb them down to fused bedrock?
"I can see both sides and ways of thinking. I'm Human by biology but Red Tree by choice. You'd think I could understand Central, and Heather's way of thinking better, but truth is the absolutist mindset of the Mothers is very attractive to me. It requires less effort to come to decisions, but some of the decisions that view leads to are too difficult to live with. Like Heather and her peers, I'd really hate to slag North America. It just wouldn't bother the Mothers at a deep visceral level. There are millions of Humans there who I'm sure don't know their leaders are living a lie and selling it to them day by day."
"It seems to me, that if you can see both sides, the Mothers did well in picking you to take their complaint to Heather," Talker said. "Even though as a Badger I'd be hard put by our cultural restraints to send anyone so young on such an important mission."
"The same for Humans," Lee agreed. "But the Mothers gave me their chop and a mandate. To their minds Central is dealing with them. I'm just doing what they directed and the tool is never as important as the task. I hope Heather will understand that. I know April would, because I saw researching her that the Earthies couldn't see beyond her age. If anything, all they could see was a little girl not a political power who controlled an array of orbital weapons."
"I'm not hearing clearly what the Mothers want you to do," Talker said.
"Neither am I," Lee admitted. "I'd never say it to them, but like the Earth Humans, the North Americans, and Central, the Mothers are not being completely honest in their public position. Like North America, the Mothers want to be seen as peers of Central. They're not, but I don't feel free to say that to their face. As long as they can destroy North America they figure that makes them equal. Talk about subtle! At least April admitted that's a very blunt tool. They know they can destroy North America too, but they realize they can't administer North America. There simply aren't enough of them to do the job. The idea of doing that is too alien for the Mothers to have even contemplated it.
"Nobody in this story wants to be totally blunt and honest about their own status, even to themselves. It's frustrating. I don't have the cultural conditioning to play these games well. I was isolated from people, Human people that is, until half grown. When I tried to play the tourist on Earth even that was beyond my ability to do without creating a huge mess and conflict, war even! The same when I came to Red Tree. Within a half hour I was offering to go at it with the First Mother, pistols blazing if she didn't treat me with more respect."
Talker didn't have anything to say immediately, but after a pause Lee's face brightened.
"At least with you Badgers I didn't start a fight over dinner. I got along with you and Par Goy, and I absolutely adore your daughter Tish."
"You fail to mention the most amazing of all. You totally won over Amiable. He is a terrible cynic and crusty old farmer. It is unusual for him not to express any reservations," Talker said.
"Oh, he's an old sweetie," Lee insisted. "He wouldn't be so hard on you if he didn't just adore you. He just acts so stern to keep his self-respect."
Talker just rolled his eyes, and fell silent for awhile looking down at the ground.
"We Badgers on the other hand," he said, obviously going back to the larger question Lee had propounded, "have no illusion we are peers of the Humans or their allies, which is how we see the Derf even if they don't see themselves the same way. The Derf are adapting Human technology and even customs far more than is leaking the other way. Again, numbers matter and there are simply a lot of Humans."
"Too damn many," Lee asserted, which was a very odd thing for a Human to say. She'd have been surprised to find out how many of her fellow Humans agreed.
"We Badgers can still maintain an illusion of peerage, perhaps even a small margin of superiority over the Bills. They just never seem terribly serious. The Cats and the Sasquatch both have their own technologies and culture, but like the Derf and Hinth are overwhelmed in numbers by Humans, they are engulfed by the Badgers and Bills. We don't have any aboriginal races that don't want any close contact, and we'd just as soon not have ever met the Biters.
"The Biters seem emotionally unable to regard anyone as their peers, even their internal factions and tribes. I fear in time it will get ugly between them and us. They may even stupidly generate conflict with the Humans if you keep coming to our part of the sky. If we don't reduce them to their planets and stop them star faring the Humans might. I fear you will have less patience with them than you've shown with each other. We're just glad you didn't come as conquerors, taking what you want instead of trading for it. The Human sphere doesn't have any serious competition, certainly not a tiresome irritant like the Biters."
"We may in the Centaurs," Lee reminded him. "They worry me."
"Bahhh!" Talker said, using the human exclamation correctly, but clumsily. "I heard Gordon lamenting the waste of two missiles to destroy their great ship, instead of one. You complain it was too expensive to vaporize them entirely," Talker complained. He had a point.
"One of the few facts April managed to reveal was the Centaurs are an empire in decline, retreating instead of expanding," Lee remembered. "They could still be roused to be a problem if they are big enough. We don't know that one ship was representative of their abilities. It might have been their version of a garbage scow for all we know. Their engineering ability on 2 Ball was certainly impressive."
"I think you are straining to see bogeymen," Talker said, dismissively.
"Perhaps, I'm cautious," Lee claimed.
"Ha! As cautious as a Biter who just had his fourth drink knocked over at the bar for a clear challenge, and as likely to apologize for being in the way and slinking off."
"You think?" Lee asked, amused at his description, but a little pleased too. "I never wanted to be seen as a timid push-over. Once you let yourself be a target the bullies never let up. That was something my cousin in Michigan tried to teach me. My parents were much bigger on getting along and worried I wouldn't be socialized when I got back to society. They may have gone overboard on it a little and Cousin saw that and was trying to correct it."
"I suspect," Lee said, "that besides having a very superior star drive, the people at Central, that is Heather and her peers, the ones who matter, may have similarly better weapons. I think that applies to Home too, or at least they come under an umbrella of protection, because April and some others have dual citizenship. I don't want to ask, and I don't want to find out the hard way.
"I don't fully understand our own star drive," Lee admitted. "Thor tried to explain the jump drive for me, and it didn't make any sense. He tried to simplify it for me and I don't think it's the sort of thing that can be simplified without losing its essence. I found the original papers describing it, but I haven't found time to study them. I may not have the math I need either, and have to study it first."
"I don't know all the details of our star drive either," Talker said. "At least I couldn't reproduce it, and if I can't do that I don't feel I can say I understand it. I have a techie on staff that claims to understand it at that level. I'd be very interested in showing him copies of your papers. He's getting pretty good at English. I'd like to hear him say how your papers and math compare, since our drives obviously work the same."
"Sure. I'll send them to you when we get back. If the Lunarians didn't have not only the drive, but superior weapons, I don't think the Earthies would be as meek as I see them being. I've paid searchers looking at the historic record and asking discreet questions. I expect to find some example of when they demonstrated such abilities that the Earthies are happy not to mention and want to hide from their own people."
"That is how I think the Caterpillars felt when they met you," Talker said. "They saw you as friendly folk, in amusingly little ships. Safe to observe, and get to know slowly. Then when you destroyed that Centaur ship with contemptuous ease they got a sudden jolt that their world view was all wrong. It must have been briefly terrifying to realize they had been playing with people who could have destroyed them at any instant, if they had made a serious error in displaying their intent."
"Gordon is pretty laid-back," Lee said. "He isn't the sort to deal with you by threats first thing. He'd rather cooperate if that will work, without all the drama. You never know when reality will turn around and bite you on the butt, like you were saying about the Caterpillars. I don't want to have the Mothers forced to have such a revelation if I can avoid it. But I don't see how I can ask Heather or her reps to accept Red Tree as their equal, which is ultimately what the Mothers want. Central has a relationship with Home, and with the Lunar Republic, but April described them as being a buffer between Central and Earth. I see no threat to Central that Red Tree can stand ready to ally against credibly."
Talker wrinkled up his snout, which was an indicator of intense emotion when it got dimples. "If you can't offer them the clan as an ally against threats, then what is left but to offer them as an ally to achieve their goals? Isn't that what we Badgers did with the Little Fleet when confronted with you? We offered friendship and you are helping us with the Biters already. You do know what some of Central's goals are, and perhaps with more discussion you can tease out more of them you can support."
"Thank you," Lee said, squeezing his hand. "This is exactly what I hoped you'd do for me, to trim some of the branches of possibility, so I have fewer ideas I have to be ready to present. I didn't feel I could walk in to talk to them prepared for anything. Now I have a program I can try to direct them to approve. They want stability and to be left alone by Earth, and by extension they don't want us meddling in their affairs either. We can promise not to get the Earthies all riled up, if they will just continue to assert control over them, so they don't come bother us. Just as the Earth Claims Commission promoted peace and stability, we can too, in our area of the heavens. We aren't trying to supplant them in their sphere. We can both respect the other's claims. We can likewise promise to respect Central's worlds and claims in the beyond. They may be far away now, but you know we're going to eventually touch on each other's territories. Better to have an agreement now than to deal with it later."
"I don't see how anyone can object to those positions," Talker said. "If talking about it helped crystallize your objectives, I'm glad I could help."
"You need to talk to Gordon's people organizing this, and assert your own desires for our Claims Commission," Lee told him. "Easier to help make it work for you now than to change it if it doesn't suit you later."
"I stand ready." Talker vowed. "That's my newest job. I shall make sure his bank people have my ear, and can get me to speak with them any time. I host the Bills, so I can encourage them to do so also."
"Good, if you've seen all you want to here, lets head back," Lee suggested.
"Agreed," Talker said, and squeezed her hand before letting go. He'd never done that before, so Lee thought it a Human mannerism for emphasis he'd picked up from her.
* * *
Lee woke up with Talker pressed against her from behind. She could feel his arms both tucked in front of him against her back and his muzzle over her shoulder. She was sure he'd wake up when she wiggled away, but he just rolled on his belly with his arms still tight in front of him. His deep slow breathing never faltered. He was really out of it.
Lee used the tripod over the fire pit to make a pot of oatmeal. The odor of food accomplished what movement hadn't. Talker stirred, lifting his muzzle, sniffing deeply. He wandered off to the woods, bare footed, to empty his bladder she was sure. He made Lee contemplate how similar males were of all species, and remembered the vet, Gwen's, comments on that. Perhaps Ha-bob-bob-brie would be different to camp with, after all he slept standing up. Might he would decide to perch in one of the trees given the choice, or had his species adapted completely to the ground? If she camped with a Human male could she ever be as unselfconscious or would it be awkward? The odd thought came that the first negative she saw in a human partner was that he wouldn't be furry. It didn't seem as attractive to her to be against bare skin. People sweat. Yet she remembered her father holding her with fondness. Maybe it would be better in practice than she imagined.
She added a packet of cinnamon and dark sugar, knowing Talker liked both in his oatmeal and a lot of other dishes. She just wished she'd brought a bit more. Her increased appetite since the life extension treatments still seemed to be increasing slowly, It was hard to predict how much she'd want, especially after walking all day. Last night she'd eaten her own steak and then about half of Talker's when he insisted he couldn't finish it.
Coffee was of course de rigeur with the Badger - more like an obsession, if they were both honest about it. His first sip when he came back, and she handed him the mug, was slow and reverent with his eyes closed. Lee wondered how much of that was real and how much was put on as a show for her? It amused her either way. She ate about three times what he did, until he looked at her in wonder, but he didn't say anything.
Lee took Talker to the area where a great windstorm had blown a large oval of trees flat. She didn't feel it was safe to send him off alone to replace the wood they'd used. He might do OK, but she wasn't sure he wouldn't get turned around and lost with no trail. Lee filled the carrier until the handle barely met and Talker couldn't lift it. She took it instead, shocking him again. Her strength was boosted from her treatments and she wasn't sure that had peaked out yet, any more than her appetite.
Back at camp with the wood stowed safely where it would stay dry Lee watched as Talker made sure the fire was out just like she'd shown him. They had far less to carry than coming out, and more of the trail was down hill going back. It would be an easier hike.
The ford was just as dry as on their way out, it must be fed by run-off from the snow on the mountains, Lee decided. So it would start heavy at the thaw and diminish all year. At least that made sense, and it was so cold that suggested it too. She'd have to remember to ask.
They were most of the way back to the Keep when Lee put a hand out and Talker ran right into it. It was more than a gesture, it stopped him like a fence. He looked down at the hand, which she didn't retract, and to his credit figured out if she was silent he should be too.
"Do Badgers climb trees?" Lee asked, in a hushed, but urgent voice.
"Just so-so," Talker admitted.
"When I draw back my hand, climb the nearest tree you can reach, and don't look back," Lee insisted. When she drew back her hand it went straight to her pistol. Talker hesitated, not seeing what Lee saw. Then the big boar snorted. That got his attention, he didn't know what to look for, but that noise guided his eyes. The dark shape half hidden in deep shadow wasn't anything cataloged in his brain. All he saw clearly were two small unfriendly eyes focused on him out of a dark mass. He was still trying to figure out what it was, but when it started to move towards them aggressively, he finally saw the size of the thing and didn't need to be urged again, he bolted for the trees like his life depended on it. It did.
Lee didn't spare a glance to see what Talker was doing. Things slowed down and the improved reflexes she'd bought with her life extension therapy paid for themselves. She thumbed the safety off, flicked the selector up to full auto and aimed halfway between her and the boar. It only took a second for it to cover that distance, and Lee squeezed the trigger with a strange detachment, her blood singing in her ears. The pistol roared with a harsh ripping sound and climbed briefly in recoil before it locked open and empty.
The first shot passed through the air between the pig's legs as a clean miss. The next barely caught it, ripping through its soft belly, completely missing anything boney and of substance. The next two broke through its boney shoulder shattering it, and it started to fall, veering off course with the front leg not obeying its commands, but the hind legs were still driving it forward. The next round tore its jaw to shreds and tore through the neck behind. It was already dead, any of the three wounds mortal, though it was unaware of it yet.
That didn't mean it wasn't going to kill Lee before it got around to dying. However, the next two rounds shattered its skull and destroyed its brain so fast it never had time to realize it was mortally hurt. The last few rounds in the magazine flew clean over it into the woods where there was nothing to harm. The pig slid past Lee on the thin leaves, front leg twisted under it grotesquely, veering like a ground car with a blown front tire. The back legs out straight trailing behind it. By the time she started to think about jumping away it was too late to even squat to do so. It came to a rest rear legs still twitching though it was thoroughly dead.
Lee dropped the empty magazine and slapped another home. She turned looking all around, searching for any more pigs. They ran in groups didn't they? Nothing moved and she heard nothing. After her fire the woods were even quieter than usual. After a while she moved the selector off auto, but couldn't bring herself to holster the pistol just yet.
A slight noise made her look up. Talker was up a fairly good sized tree. Big enough around she knew he hadn't climbed the trunk. The first limb under him was about three meters from the ground, which meant he'd reached it in one jump and kept climbing. It was all the more impressive because he still had his bag slung under his arm. He had that shocked open mouthed look that said he didn't quite believe it either. Now he was dismayed, looking down like he wandered how the Devil he was going to get back down. Lee couldn't help it, she started laughing until she had to lean over with hands on both knees, gun still clutched in one.
"Drop your bag down," Lee finally advised him, when the worst of the laughter was done. She holstered her gun after one last glance around, and walked over, but not directly under him. She didn't intend to let him fall on her. He was too big to safely catch. "You don't need the weight of it when you drop. If you can drop from limb to limb the last drop won't be so bad if you hang down before letting go."
Talker dropped the bag, hung from the limb and tried to grab the second limb when he let go. He got his hands on it, but couldn't hold on, swinging around it enough to flip himself over a full turn in the air. He landed on the bottom limb belly first, hard enough that Lee heard the breath knocked out of him. It did break his fall even if he never got a good grip on it.
Fortunately he rolled off backward so he didn't fall on his head. Talker hit the ground with his feet, but not with them centered under him far enough to break his fall much. Instead he rolled backwards, taking the hit mainly on his skinny butt, and then kept rolling until he ended up on his belly.
"Stay still, stay still," Lee insisted, wanting to check him for injuries before he moved, but he ignored her and rolled on his back.
"How did I ever get up there?" Talker asked in shock staring up at the branches.
"I imagine it looks further away laying flat on the ground," Lee said. "Move one leg at a time, and yell if anything feels broken."
He did as she asked, and then each arm and his hands although she hadn't requested that.
"I'm going to be one big bruise on my butt. I'm just really glad I got my tail tucked before I hit. It takes months and months to recover from a busted tail."
"You don't have to be in any hurry to get up for me," Lee said. "Make sure everything is working before you put weight on it."
"Do you see any more?" Talker asked, rolling his head to look each way.
"If I had, I'd be up there beside you," Lee said pointing at his previous perch.
"Can you jump that high?" Talker asked dubiously.
"Listen who's asking," Lee said sarcastically. "Can Badgers climb?" she asked again. "Oh just so-so," she answered trying to pitch her voice like his. "It depends on the motivation."
It was his turn to laugh for release.
When he struggled to rise Lee lent him a hand. He get up, but fully vertical was slow, and he held his butt with both hands, paying no attention to dignity. A few careful steps were encouraging. "I think I can make it back to the Keep OK," he decided.
"Oh good, I won't have to put you down here, because you're crippled," Lee said.
That got a grimace, and an unfunny look. Talker approached the boar, tentatively, looking it over amazed. "He's a big sucker," he said, stating the obvious.
"Uh-huh, probably four hundred kilo, maybe a little more. Gordon said they compete with a native animal that tunnel more than Earth pigs. I think they regretted ever letting them get loose in the wild," Lee said. "He told me one chased a fairly good sized male Derf cub up a tree and wouldn't let him down for a couple days."
"This is Earth life?" Talker asked, surprised.
"Yeah, everything this size the Derf long ago hunted to extinction," Lee explained. "This is a pig. Well, pork now," she corrected. "It's a shame to waste it all, but I have a dinky little kitchen knife and no way I want to try to hack a ham off with it."
"I had no idea what a pig looked like. I think I saw an idealized image of a pig as a ceramic bank, with a coin slot on top, but it was pink and shiny and didn't look anything like this."
"Oh, that's what the domesticated ones look like. A couple generations in the woods and they revert to the common genotype. The hair comes in dark and longer and the tusks come back," she said, pointing them out.
Walker just shuddered. He figured out what those would do. "I'll take my ham like I saw Gordon have it. Scored criss-cross, spotted with cloves, and baked until the surface is crispy. How are the Mothers going to feel about this happening on their territory?" He worried.
Lee shrugged. "They know they're out here. It happens. Most of these swine have the sense not to go around the noise and commotion of a Keep. But they can be . . . territorial. This fellow must have decided we were encroaching. The Derf know not to mess with one unarmed, and their hunters will take a few in the fall hunting season. Keep in mind they will take them with bow or with spear. Why say anything? In three days there won't be anything here to see. The scavengers will have picked it clean and scattered the bones. Unless you want to brag on how you learned to fly. It would just upset Gordon and he'd resolve all over again never to let me out of his sight. Why worry him? Life is dangerous, you can't hide in a hole."
Talker looked up at the branches again, and shook his head, unbelieving. "As you wish, I thank you for your friendship, demonstrated again by saving my life."
Lee smiled big. "The English idiom is, 'Thanks for saving my bacon.' Now, when do you want me to start teaching you pistol? So you can, take care of business, yourself next time."
"Ah, I heard that inflection, another idiom! You're just full of them. Well, I don't want there to be a next time," Talker objected. But a couple hundred meters down the trail he relented. "When I can buy a pistol that fits my hand properly, and we happen to have time together again. We'll do it."
"You buy it, or have it made, and we'll do that when I come back," Lee promised.
Chapter 15
Talker looked like, well . . . like he had been rolling around on the ground. Lee slapped as much of it off as she could with a floppy hat she carried, but that only made a start on the big pieces. Was she really romanticizing the merits of fur just yesterday? It seemed like a tremendous big pain in the butt right now. Speaking of which Talker winced just to have a hat brushed across his butt. He had no cheeks for padding. He was so flat there it was a wonder he didn't break something landing like he did.
Talker stood on the raised wooden grid and let the dirty water carry the dust and grit and fine needles of dead tree leaves down the drain. Lee was brushing him from the ears to toes a second time, and decided she'd do it a third time with soap before he was really clean. Yep, there was definitely a down side to all that fur. She decided if he was this much work she never wanted a horse. It must take half a day to brush down something that big.
'When she tried to go under his tail with the brush he straightened up and said, "Oh, oh, no, not there, it's too delicate for the stiff brush!"
"Well, call me prissy, but I'm not going to reach in there for you with my fingers, take care of it yourself if it's so delicate," One of the Derf scrubbing down either was studying English or he just figured the problem out from watching, and thought it hilarious.
"At least you'll be clean for supper," Lee said, "although I'm not sure you'll be very dry, especially not if you soak very long. I suggest just a quick dip and a dry for you today."
"I'm going to need something soft to sit on," Talker realized. "How do I explain that?" He lowered his voice not sure if the Derf who'd laughed understood English.
"My pillow detaches from my sleeping mat. You can have that for as long as you need it. If anybody asks, just tell them the truth. Say you fell down, but skip the details," Lee said.
Supper was brief for Talker and he stayed just long enough to make polite conversation with the Mothers about the memorial site, but excused himself rather than linger over coffee.
"Is Talker all right?" The Third Mother inquired when he left. It was out of character to turn down coffee. It seemed a sincere inquiry, not critical. All three of the Mothers liked him.
"I don't mean this in any way unkind," Lee said, "but Talker seems to be a bit of a city boy, and I think the hike and the wilds wore him out. I think he used muscles that he didn't know he had, and he slipped and fell on his butt. I'm sure he's going right to bed. We had a very nice talk sitting viewing the memorial, and he found some very insightful things to say after I told him a lot more about Red Tree history and the chain bound lands."
"Good, then it's a positive experience overall, once the sore wears off," the First Mum said, with an amused smile. "We shall make clear to the other clans at the fall festival that we approve of his mission, and intend to have a relationship with him and his kind."
"I'm glad you feel that way," Lee said. "We count each other friends, which means a lot to Badgers. His father told me to call him Par Goy on the basis of our friendship. The Goy gives me far more credit than I'd have ever asked as a peer. And the Par is an affectionate term to show a warm relationship, and that I'm, as Talker put it, a concern of the household. He made it clear I can call on his hospitality without being with his son.
"Since you gave me the privilege I extended the hospitality of the Keep, and I didn't have a house of my own to offer Par Goy, I offered him the hospitality of the clan. I doubt he'll ever leave Far Away, but it seemed me the proper form was to reciprocate. Talker's little girl on the other hand I do expect to show up here eventually. I've friended her and given her a token of friendship in the Earth necklace I used to wear. I've learned since that she is coming to Derfhome with her mother, to join Talker at his post here. I'd already extended the gift of passage on my ships to her, whenever she is old enough to use it. I look forward to showing her to you."
"He honors us when he honors you," the Second Mother said. Lee had her pegged as a deep thinker, almost the equal of the Third Mother. She didn't say much, but when she did Lee paid attention. The other two just gave an easy nod to that. The Human gesture was automatic now, even among the field hands and laborers.
Lee did linger over coffee, and as always absorbed as much as she could understand of the social politics and how the Mothers perceived things. She had no doubt Gordon would have news for her, but she was too wound up to go relax, and you don't put your head down and read messages at the Mother's table.
* * *
There was a message on her pad when she returned to her room.
"Admiral Hawking is generally receptive to the idea of sending a ship along on another voyage of exploration. This time," Gordon informed her in text rather than video. "However he points out that to do so in order to free up our one of our own ships to perform guard duty at Derfhome, or to pursue diplomatic missions to Earth isn't really a proper use of Fargoer finances, even if we are now Fargone citizens. Since just about every vessel in his fleet is salivating at the prospect of being assigned to duty accompanying the Exploratory Association fleet, he graciously allows he might let loose one destroyer.
"He admitted that the long-term income to Fargone probably exceeds the cost of sending an escort, but asked me to consider that a farmer or shoe salesman in Landing probably won't see any direct benefit from his tax dollars being used that way. He has a point really. It may reach them eventually. The bar owner who has a surge in business when the fleet vessel puts back in, may buy an extra pair of shoes from the able spaceman spending big after the cruise, but such things are hard to quantify. Trickledown economics has always been a hard sell to the people it most often claims to aid, and sometimes the butt of vulgar jokes. Government officials are averse to being an object of humor, even more than serious accusations of corruption. It erodes power.
"So while he is willing to run a lottery to allow one of his destroyers to accompany Thor, he asks us to look to supporting our own missions with some of this wealth he keeps hearing about. I thought that was terribly reasonable, given I could not answer when he was going to get his cruiser back from Far Away.
"He also reasoned that a destroyer has been sufficient to deal with anything we have met. The Caterpillars seem friendly and the Centaurs are no match for us at all. The Biters are a bad joke. If we find someone really advanced and the circumstances are reversed, then it's likely that his whole fleet would be no help. I couldn't argue the logic of it.
"I think we got as much help as we can expect, and perhaps a little more. We have to rethink how we approach this. One suggestion the Admiral had seems cowardly, but I can't fault the practicality of it. He said we should have one very fast courier, manned and ready to run if we find a dangerous situation that we can't deal with. Hopefully they would at least get word home and give our civilization warning if that happened.
"That's where we stand with Hawking and the Navy. I'll be in bed by the time you read this. I hope you enjoyed the trek back to the memorial and Talker's company."
- Gordon
She couldn't find fault with Hawking either. Something else that had occurred to her since she and Gordon discussed it, was that since Gabriel seemed so smitten with her, if he knew of any serious danger in the Deep Beyond, she thought he'd have tried to persuade her not to go. Even if he was sworn to secrecy he could have tried to give her some kind of veiled warning. An alarmed look on his face at certain comments could have accomplished that without a word. Or she could be entirely too full of herself and not know his mind at all . . .
It wasn't really late, but she was tired from both the walk and the adrenaline surge of dealing with the pig. It made it harder not to be able to relieve the tension by talking it out. So she was happy to go to bed now, when it was barely dark out. She found the file about Human jump drives she'd promised Talker, and sent it to his phone, then turned the light off manually. It was so quaint. The coffee in her system didn't stand a chance against the fatigue and she drifted right off.
* * *
When Gordon arrived back at Derfhome his pad gave a priority tone as soon as they approached the station. He sighed. He couldn't even catch a shuttle back down to the planet before somebody demanded his attention. He expected it to be Timilo or one of his nearly as obnoxious underlings. Why hadn't they figured out they had nothing more to accomplish and it was well past time to wrap it up and go home?
But when he looked it was the bank, and it was a text message. Most of the time he found people loved to give good news face to face with video conferencing, but bad news as a text message like that distanced it from them somehow.
Gordon, please contact me if you are not engaged in something critical. If you want to come by the bank you are welcome to speak to me there. It would be useful if you are able to do that before returning to Red Tree or rejoining your daughter. - Sally
That didn't sound good. Gordon wondered if she was going to withdraw from going along with Lee to the Moon? She was so blunt he'd have thought she'd just tell him to his face if that was the case. If she wanted to use text he would too.
"I just arrived at Derfhome station. Next shuttle down arrives 1000 your time. Meet at the bank and go out to talk over lunch work for you?" - Gordon
"OK, I have a place." - Sally
Maybe it wasn't so bad. They had a decent kitchen at the bank and used it to offer hospitality, save time, and work through on occasion. Going out was a semi-personal thing. The shuttle was half way around the station. Gordon could get a cart, but he'd been stuck in a seat for so long he was happy to walk. He would make the departure easily.
When he called a cab at the shuttle port Gordon was surprised to see it lacked a driver. Derfhome was getting to be as modern as a large Human city, slowly. It accepted his directions and payment flawlessly. It took some sophisticated software to run a cab in this environment, because there were still manually controlled vehicles, indeed a majority of them, on the streets. Directed by sapients, there was no telling what they would do.
That meant the decision tree had to include provisions for many more failure events. Not just loss of data transmission or mechanical failure, but lapses like ignoring traffic signals or willful ignoring the rules to cut in front of them or go over the speed limits jockeying for position and advantage. The ride wasn't near as fast as he'd experienced in a fully automated system. The cab proceeded like a distrustful old man, leery from experience.
When it stopped at the front entry to the bank Gordon instructed it to wait for him. Since Sally was going out to lunch with him they might as well ride. The cab explained it was prohibited from parking on a primary road and that it would park in the bank parking lot after he exited. If he did not return in fifteen minutes it would post a small additional fee against his account and leave. "OK, do it. Payment authorized," he added, and went in.
Sally was in her office, which he'd never seen before. Her desk was an old fashioned one with a large flat top surface. It supported a huge curved screen that ran a good meter and a half side to side. Despite all that area she had stacks of paper documents all over the desk and overflow onto the floor. They were neat and had color coded tabs hanging out, but it still seemed chaotic to Gordon. How could she remember where anything was?
She made a few point and swipe gestures to move and close things on her screen and said, "Mouse off!" to deactivate her ring, and powered forward, slipped it off, and hung it by feel on a cheap little plastic coat hook stuck on the back of the monitor. She powered her chair around to face Gordon and locked it in place, foot rest retracting and the seat gave her a little boost to help her to her feet. Gordon figured at ninety some years that was a small concession to her age. She didn't have that frail look he'd seen in some old humans.
"Well, enough of that for the morning! I hope you're hungry, I am. Do you like Korean food?" Sally asked.
"I have no idea," Gordon admitted. "I have yet to find any style of Human cooking in which I can't find something good. You can order for me," he invited. "I have a cab in your lot."
"Wonderful, I'll call ahead from the cab and have them start our order," Sally said.
The cab politely flashed its running lights and pulled up for them when they went out the door. Gordon wondered how it did that. Did it run recognition software or did the continuing transaction allow it to inquire of his pad?
Sally had her own phone out and punched something in, eschewing voice. Maybe it was a generational thing to prefer text. She started realizing the cab was waiting on her. "Go to Murphy's Coney Island BBQ and Authentic Korean Cuisine," she ordered.
Murphy didn't sound Korean to Gordon, but Humans mixed names and cultures with an abandon that left others bewildered.
"Now, what I wanted to discuss with you, and ask your help, is for that young girl, Clare, for who Lee seems to have assumed responsibility. The housekeeper and lifestyle trainer who has been helping her called me. The dear seems to have suddenly gotten very depressed. She stopped going to her classes, called her tutors off, and has been sitting a few days moping and feeling sorry for herself. She hasn't been eating normally either. I know your daughter is bright and mature in many ways, but I figure this might be beyond her social skills to manage. The girl might resent it if I called a healthcare professional, and I'm an old stranger so she might not be able to relate to me well. She knows you. Could you have a word with her and try to right things?" Sally asked.
Gordon thought about it. "Maybe, the first time we met, her immediate reaction was to be quite scared of me. Not as a reasoned thing, but it seemed the instinctive reaction to a large predator. She did seem to calm down with me, and she's been around more Derf. She might be able to see me as a non-threatening person now, if I'm careful how I speak and move."
"Give it a try if you would. I'm sending her address to your pad and telling the housekeeper to watch for you. I won't say anything to her. She might disinvite you in her current mood."
"Alright," Gordon agreed. "I'll go over this afternoon and see if she'll confide in me. I can perhaps draw on some credit from my relationship with Lee to get her to talk with me."
"Thank you," Sally said, and didn't mention it again.
Gordon was impressed with Murphy's. They not only adapted kimchi to hotdogs but incorporated the little black seed pods, not real Earth peppers, but Devil's Horn 'peppers' that rivaled any Earth pepper for heat. Four Derf style kimchi hot dogs with the menu warning - \\\ "extra hot - not responsible if you order it - not responsible if you eat it"/// - were appetizers for him, each quarter kilogram hot dog made two dainty bites for Gordon, then a Derf sized portion of Bulgogi which was definitely worth ordering again. All the little relishes served on the side were interesting. He'd add this to his list of places to go, and not just to please Sally. After dropping her off at the bank Gordon gave the cab Clare's address. It suggested that if he was going to use it for another hour it could give him the better day-use rate and save a little money. He agreed.
The cab took Gordon all the way across town, and so far into the hills he was starting to wonder if it was properly in the city at all. But it was close enough to be in the new traffic net. There was nothing industrial out this way, indeed very little in the way of stores or other businesses. They did pass a cluster of stylish building marked as a university. The homes were of a style that suggested they were Derf, many of them earth sheltered and ambiguous about their actual size or depth. The few taller buildings in the Human style seemed to be multiple units. It was at one of those the cab finally stopped. Just to be sure, Gordon told the cab to wait.
Lee had lots of money, so he couldn't fault the bank for putting Clare in a nice apartment, but it surprised him. He didn't realize anything existed on Derfhome quite this luxurious. The foyer was almost a garden there were so many decorative plants, and the floor was beautiful parquet, in geometric designs. He'd wondered about the address. After the street address of the building it said Amber. He now saw on the directory screen that rather than use anything as crass as numbers the suites were named Emerald, Jade, Chrysolite, and there . . . Amber. The names of residents or floor plan weren't offered. He touched the rectangle with the suite name and it got a border around it.
"Gordon of Red Tree to see Miss Clare, please."
"Gordon?" a surprised voice asked, from somewhere in front of him.
"Last time I checked," he joked.
The screen changed to display Clare's face. She looked confused.
"I was told you seem unhappy," he said, trying to phrase it as kindly as possible. "Could I speak with you? I'd like to be of help if I can."
"Oh. Did Lee send you?"
"No, the lady at the bank, Sally, sent me," Gordon said, deciding on honesty, since he wasn't very good at elaborate lies. "She didn't feel she knew you well enough to talk to you."
"Yeah, we've just spoken on com, and not even that for awhile."
Gordon just waited. Volunteering more at this point seemed chancy.
"Turn to your right and go to the wall. I'll send an elevator down," Clare decided.
"Thank you, see you in just a few minutes," Gordon said.
If the panel hadn't withdrawn as he approached he'd have never known there was an elevator. It seemed about as secure as it could be without the extravagance of a live doorman, checking identity against outside data, in some ways better. The elevator opened directly on a small foyer to Clare's apartment, not a common hall. There was still a door between him and the apartment. That would be handy to leave deliveries or receive carry away food.
"Come on in," Clare said, holding the door open.
Gordon nodded and held his hands in, trying to look meek and as inoffensive as he could. There simply wasn't any way to project small. Not when he filled the doorway.
"I'm sitting out on the balcony," Clare said. "You want something to drink?"
"Coffee if it's not too much trouble," Gordon said.
"No, I don't have to fuss with anything, just press a button and the house does it. I'll have some too, it'll clear my head to talk with you. Go on out on the balcony," Clare said pointing. "I'll be along."
The sliding door was open and Gordon went out. They must be four or five stories up, he decided. The view was lovely, looking straight over the city. It was a sprawl without any skyscrapers like Fargone or Earth would have. There weren't even many buildings as tall as the one he was in. There was a low table and two chairs, but nothing Derf sized. That didn't matter, Gordon carried his own ample padding with him. There was a bottle and glass on the table. That worried him because he understood solitary drinking early in the day was ill regarded among Humans. He pulled the opposite chair away from the table and sat. He was likely going to be looking down at Clare even seated.
Clare had been dealing with Derf enough to know she needed to order a Derf sized serving and cups. Gordon could tell it was heavy for her when she brought the serving tray out and sat it on the table. She sat the carafe and glass on the deck and poured Gordon a dainty one liter cup. It was a demitasse cup for Derf.
"Oh, that's good," Gordon said surprised. It was strong with cinnamon and cloves, and something else he couldn't place, so he asked.
"Cardamom," Clare said, "and honey. I figured you'd like it. I haven't met a Derf yet who didn't.
That was good actually, to hear she'd been socializing, not just isolating herself. She was having some coffee too, and she didn't fortify it from the bottle, so all to the good, so far.
"I'm not terribly good at subtle," Gordon said, "so I'll just ask outright. Do you know why you've been down, put your tutors off, and have even been off your feed? Is it anything with which I can help? Because I'd be happy to, if I can."
"It's no mystery, I just haven't been sharing it with anyone, but since you ask . . . I turned eighteen. I lost track of the Earth calendar and wasn't even aware I'd turned eighteen until a few days after, but then it hit me how far behind I am. Back home when you are eighteen you are done with school if you aren't going to college. You can ask for your own apartment if you're going to live on the negative tax. You can marry or go in the military. If you can pass the tests, or if you're rich, you can go to college. By the time she was my age my mom was married and carrying me already. She had an actual job and she and my dad stayed off the negative. Nobody in your fleet wanted me, because I was useless. Here I am, at eighteen, and I'm still struggling to catch up on middle school stuff. I'm getting it, but it's hard, and I feel like I'm going to be middle aged before I'm all the way caught up. Tell me that isn't depressing!" Clare challenged him.
"Nope, no way I'm going to tell you how to feel," Gordon said. "I'm older, and alien, and my life is completely different than your experience, but I'm not stupid. People feel how they feel. It's insulting to deny them the right to how they feel, whether it makes any sense to you or not. In this case, even as different as we are, I can empathize with that, so there . . ."
Clare just blinked a lot and looked at him. That obviously wasn't the tack she was expecting him to take. Probably, she expected a big pep talk, and reminders how good she had it.
"So what are you going to suggest?" Clare asked. "Call my tutors and get back on the ball?"
"Gods no, if that has been depressing, why would you want to keep beating yourself up?"
"Uh, because I can't think of anything else to do?" she admitted.
"Have you done anything but hit the books since you got here?" Gordon asked.
"Not really. I mean, that's why I'm here, isn't it? What else would I do?"
"No wonder you're burned out," Gordon marveled. "Do you ever do anything for fun?"
"I'm not sure I ever learned how to do that. On Earth the telly showed rich people playing golf to relax, or sailing their yacht. You could enter the lottery to get in one of the National Parks if you wanted, but trudging around carrying a big sack on your back never appealed to me. I could never figure out the big attraction to go get all tired, and sweaty, and dirty far from a shower. I'm not a party girl to go to clubs and dance and drink. I don't have any friends to do that with me, and that seems to be the attraction to partying. Do you do anything for fun?" Clare asked him.
"Yes, but I admit when I was your equivalent age I didn't know anything I wanted to do for fun," Gordon remembered. "The Mothers aren't big on urging clan members to develop hobbies or waste time doing anything that isn't productive work. That's pretty much why I ran away from home. I saw years and years ahead of me making furniture or barrels. I sort of suspected when you have made your first hundred barrels or so it loses all its glamour."
"You ran away from home?" Clare said, incredulous. "I thought that only happened in books and really bad old flat movies."
"Well, it was either going to be the stupidest thing I ever did, and end in disaster, or give me freedom and a life without cooperage," Gordon started. An hour later he'd told the high points of his travels to Fishtown over his first year on his own, and he was out of coffee. To keep going would just tire both of them. Perhaps another day she'd want to hear more. There was a lot more he could tell her of course, but the story did what he intended. Now that she knew more about him, Clare was looking at him like he was a person instead of a problem. Now was the time he could offer suggestions and she might really consider them.
"I really think you could benefit from a change of pace and doing some new things," Gordon suggested after he wound down about himself. "Yes, you have a good deal here, and Lee gave you a wonderful opportunity. But you aren't like a worker in a factory swiping his card on the time clock, in and out, and required to crank out a hundred widgets an hour to keep his job. You're being harder on yourself than anybody. Why don't you take a vacation? Go someplace like Fargone. Lee has a condo there you can borrow. Sit on a beach and do nothing a couple days. Eat out at some ethnic places. Try a round of golf even if it seems silly, just to try it once, and maybe understand why people go crazy over it. I did. It still seems stupid to me but it was educational. I'm still amazed they make Derf clubs.
"Try some of the things people do for hobbies. Make a clay pot or a necklace. I used to draw with colored pencils and ink. When we explored I drew things and it gave me a better eye for composition when I had to take photographs. When we found Providence I did hundreds of photos of plants and flowers and small creatures. I'm glad I could do them well, because a lot of them ended up being published in xeno-journals. Wasn't there anything you wanted to do back on Earth you could never try?"
Clare got the oddest look on her face. "We lived in an apartment for awhile. I must have been eight or ten years old. I'd forgotten about it until you asked. They cleared the land and built other apartments next door, and I stole time from my lessons and watched out the window. I really wanted to know how to run a bulldozer like I saw them doing. I thought about that for the longest time. Long for a little kid at least, and my mother of course thought it was ridiculous. I'd managed to forget about it until you asked me."
"I'd pick that over golf if we were both going to go do it tomorrow," Gordon said. "Lee wouldn't begrudge you buying a bull dozer if you needed it to learn, but I imagine there have to be bulldozer schools. I'll tell you a little secret, why you can afford to take time and do some things you want to try like that. And in the end it isn't going to matter to you if it takes you to thirty or forty years old to get where you feel fully 'caught up' to where you should be."
Clare looked very skeptical of that statement, but she listened. Gordon explained about life extension therapy, and that Lee had already received it. Clare was shocked.
"Back home, they said that kind of thing drove people crazy when they tried it!"
"Yes, there were a bunch of kids they gave gene therapy. Some place in Europe, I forget where," Gordon said. "They were trying to make them smarter, trying to make them all child prodigies of one sort or another. I'm not sure if they were trying to make them live longer yet. It was quite successful when they were very young, and then they all went very unstable as teens. They all ended up in residential mental institutions later. It was sad. It also made a convenient excuse to ban all sorts of gene therapies."
"Other stuff too," Clare remembered. "They said it made you get diseases. They lied?"
"The best sorts of lies are the ones that have a kernel of truth, and some of the worst lies are those of deliberate omission," Gordon taught her.
"Those sons of bitches!" Clare declared.
"You disparage dogs, but yeah. They lie. They've been lying, and unfortunately they are going to keep lying," Gordon said, wearily. "We have little power to stop them, and it's a huge division between the Earthies and other Humans off planet, and even other people like Derf. This big of a lie is always unstable, and it's not going to end well," Gordon predicted. "But guessing when it will fail is very difficult too."
"But you will have an early opportunity to get it. The people on the Moon and Fargone already have it. I think everybody who wants it on Derfhome will have it within a generation, because Lee and I certainly don't intend to keep it secret.
"Other places like New Japan or the smaller colonies? I just don't know their dynamics. They mostly seem tightly connected to Earth, just like most Humans here were until recently. We're not going to start some crazy kind of propaganda campaign to inform the Earthies. I've had enough war with Earth, thank you, and that might start one.
"Lee and I are going to make sure it's known on Derfhome. Sally from the bank just was informed about it. I offered it to her as an inducement for employment. The point is, this changes things for you now, doesn't it? You don't have to begrudge a decade to catch up if you need it. You'll have lots of extra decades."
"It changes everything," Clare said. "But what about you? Does it work for Derf?"
"We just started working on that side of it. I'm only middle aged by Derf standards. I have time. We're pretty confident we can make it work for us. But you're sweet to ask."
Chapter 16
"Lee, this old material you sent me on Human drive theory is interesting. My drive techie, Musical, apparently stayed up all night reading it," Talker said. That clearly amazed him. "He just called me, looking all frazzled but excited still, before he went to crash out. Now, I confess, the science is beyond me. I have to take him at his word that he understands not only the basis of the Badger drive, but he says the Human math is similarly straight forward and compelling.
"He did say we Badgers have only used the transactional model of quantum phenomena, and that the Copenhagen model, while it doesn't contradict the math, is confusing and needlessly obscure. He didn't really explain them to me, but I remember the names he used.
"The fellow says he was already writing a mathematical translation program to transpose the symbols and operational nomenclature between several Badger and Human fields, including what you call Fourier analysis. He did admit it is going to take him awhile, but I'd be amazed if he can do it at all without arguing about how fast."
"Musical sounds like he's a prize," Lee admitted. "The last time somebody tried to explain drive theory to me I couldn't get my head wrapped around it. It was a sore point actually, because he was a bit condescending about it. My parents taught me some math, but I never went to a formal school. We weren't the sort who played mathematical games for fun, it was a tool. Perhaps now that I am older and have more resources I can pursue it sometime." And with life extension I have more time to get around to it, she thought.
"Perhaps you can find somebody to be a resource for him," Talker requested. "He found a difference between the seminal paper and the later publications. The original has factors for the electrical force and the gravitational force. The later papers drop the symbol for gravitation. It still describes the real world just fine, as long as gravity is a constant, but it seemed technically wrong to him, and he's one of these people that looks at a mathematical expression like you would a song. It was a glaring hole to him he described as being like a sudden inappropriate silence in the middle of a movement."
"I haven't even looked at those files myself," Lee confessed. "I just sucked everything I could grab that was related onto my pad while I there and had full access. I'd love to own a copy of the whole Earth web, but the reality is they are adding to it faster than it's possible to buy it or move it by ship. We buy as much as we can afford of the English web, but even that fraction we have to filter. Just the redundancies alone will drive you crazy eliminating them. Have your guy make his own annotations to the files, when he's vertical again. I'll find somebody to review them," Lee promised.
"Thank you. It's like an itch to him and I'm sure he'd appreciate having a peer with whom he can discuss it. There isn't another Badger with us that can do that," Talker said.
"I'll see what I can do, and support the effort, and even fund it. But if I do I expect the fruits of it to be proprietary. He'd be rewarded richly, just like fleet shares. He'd have appropriate credit for the discovery. But not simply own the tech it creates. He's your man, are you willing to tell him I'm his boss on this project if he works for me and I call the shots?"
"You have never done anything harmful to me or my civilization," Talker said. "If he can't see it as a separate endeavor I will tell him not to accept your aid."
"Be aware, the Mothers were concerned with you appearing exhausted yesterday. I told them it was rough on you because you were a city boy. I figured you'd rather that than the whole scary tale of how you learned to fly and I almost got trampled. They'd never let us near the woods again. They did very specifically say they would declare their support of your mission to the other Mothers at the fall festival."
"I guess I am a city boy," Talker agreed, "so there's no harm from telling the truth. I'm not sure how much the Mothers and I have in common, except we'll both want to support your new claims commission, but that's very nice of the Mothers."
"Don't dismiss it as just a gesture," Lee said. "Anytime the Mothers of a clan make a declaration it is law, no matter how innocuous it may seem. If some other clan takes exception to it they could end up with Garret out in a field with an ax, and he either defends their word or gets chopped up. You can be sure they will make the statement carefully, and with as little possibility to arouse controversy as possible, but it's never without risk. It does however work with their decision to engage more with the trade towns, since you are located on clan neutral territory."
"Thank you for explaining," Talker said. "I'll try to find something worthy in the way of trade or culture to make their effort worthwhile, something more than just enameled jewelry." He had that look, silent for a moment that usually meant he was being thoughtful. "If there isn't anything I can do directly for the Mothers, or the clan, you belong to Red Tree now. You seek their benefit. If I can do you a turn for the good say so, it pays on the same debt to my mind, even if the Mothers don't know it or wouldn't understand it."
"That presumes I know what is good for Red Tree, or even the Derf as a whole. Better than the Mothers even," Lee protested. "I haven't claimed that."
Talker looked grimly serious and a little put-out. "No matter what you claim, the blunt reality is that if the actions you are taking don't serve the Derf and everyone who touches on them, quite well, we are all in a lot of trouble." He just nodded and terminated his call without another word. That was a means of emphasis, to leave it as his last thought, and it did exactly what he wanted it to do, make Lee think.
Lee sat, considering it carefully. What Talker said was true, although she didn't welcome hearing it. It was a huge burden on her shoulders. The voyages, the claims program, all could help, or she could end up messing everything up worse than it already was. It wasn't like what everybody had been doing before was so great and making everybody happy. Doing nothing had risks too, although it shifted the blame to other people if she sat back and let them mess it up their way. It wasn't like what she wanted to do would fix everything. It just had to be a little bit better to be worth trying. She couldn't see any way forward that was better than what she was doing. Not without a miracle, such as every thinking being in known space suddenly attaining sainthood, and kind and thoughtful reasonableness. Like that was going to happen!
* * *
Lee didn't wish to ask Thor anything about jump technology, and he was the only person who she was sure knew anything about it. She checked with the engineer off the Retribution, Jeremiah Ellis, and explained she had a Badger who wanted to brainstorm with somebody about drive tech theory, and was happy he didn't immediately suggest Thor.
"With a Human?" he asked, and seemed uncertain that was a good idea.
"With anybody who knows what he is talking about," Lee said. "Human, Derf, it just happens he's the only Badger here conversant in this tech, or he could consult with his own. My understanding is that he is super smart and has made some headway understanding Human nomenclature and thought processes."
'Engineers deal with the practical stuff," Jeremiah told her. "They run the theory past us in training, and then you never really use it in operation. I think what you want is an academic. Why don't you take this to the university and see if they can help you? They're more concerned with theory than hardware, and making it work."
"OK, that seems reasonable," she said, and thanked him. His relief was visible.
Lee called her bank, and asked how one approached a university on Derfhome and was there one with a department that would deal with jump drive theory? Lee had grown used to relying on her bank for everything from rating suppliers to shopping for personal gifts. They didn't disappoint her. The director Darius knew an official of a local university which predated Human contact and had enthusiastically embraced the relevant Human studies. He soon had a name and contact information for Lee.
She arranged to talk to the Derf, who used the Human name Born, and introduced him to Musical. They enthusiastically agreed to meet since they were close. She agreed to conference with them when they were together and introduced. It wasn't long until they called back.
"Are you two willing to work together to understand this? I don't care about the glory of discovery, but I'm interested in owning any practical tech that can be made from it. I'll come up with a name for the association to put on your pay checks, and tell my bank to send you standard research crew agreements."
That got their attention.
"You both already have other duties and responsibilities, and income." Lee reminded them. "What would you consider an acceptable boost in your income for the personal time you'll be losing?"
The idea they had personal time was a new concept to Born and confusing to Musical, so neither replied quickly.
"Say, five hundred dollars Ceres a week? If you want to talk about it after a few months we can discuss it when I'm back" Lee offered.
"That works for me," Born said, trying to keep a straight face. Musical managed to nod yes.
"If I fund it and it has no practical application, well, I won't be broke. Talker already said Musical can work on the side for me. Can you hire on and regard it as a research job? Is that a problem with the University?" she asked Born.
He assured her it was not. In fact they encouraged that sort of liaison with business.
"Right now, this is thinking and talking about it. I believe the English expression is 'brain-storming'. I liked that when I heard it. One expects much thunder and hopes for a few bolts of lightning. However, even at this stage web searches can be very expensive. You'd probably be shocked how the school rations them out for their own research. How would you like to support our necessary searches at this early stage?" Born asked.
"You see my com code there. Make sure you put it in your addy folder, and charge any searches against it. Just copy them to me, so I have them to look at too," she requested. "Oh, here are couple names I know. They might have relevance. Jeff Singh, Nam-Kah Singh, James Weir, and any frequent second tier names associated with them."
"How should I limit the searches?" Born asked Lee respectfully.
"You know better than me. How much time do you have to look at the results? Do you need to go outside the English Earth web? Russian? German? Maybe New Japan? Does an Earth search include the Moon? Structure them any way you want. If you need help to go through them let me know, and eyes can be hired. In my experience, Artificial Stupids aren't worth a damn, and I wouldn't bother with them because they're too literal."
"Yes, but what should I set as a spending limit?" Born said, embarrassed to ask.
"It's data, what else is as worthy to buy?" Lee declared. "No reason to limit it."
When Lee left, Born looked at Musical still on his screen. He was more than a little stunned at the little Human's attitude. "Where did you find her?" he demanded.
"She's my boss' friend," Musical answered truthfully.
* * *
"Our private investigators report there have been multiple inquiries of the Earth web services under several names from both Fargone and Derfhome," April told Jeff. "They are requesting all the papers published by you, your mother, and James Weir as author or co-author in any rank. They are not aware Central has its own restricted web I'm sure. They also ordered a whole array of papers and publications, having to do with various aspects of Quantum Mechanics and gravitational theory. They ask for priority return ship routing, and the search service authorization form listed Lee Anderson as the responsible party to bill. The box asking for fee limits was filled out as unlimited." April rolled her eyes at the audacity of that, and sent the file to Jeff's pad. He scrolled down the list. She didn't ask him what he thought, but he volunteered it.
"Oh shit . . ."
* * *
The next morning Gordon was back, and had good news. "Thank goodness, we are rid of Timilo and his cloud of sycophants as soon as their escort arrives from New Japan."
"New Japan has armed vessels worthy of being escorts, and capable of doing so for such an extended voyage?" Lee was clearly surprised.
"Timilo says they do. I have no real idea what they own. When we visited New Japan during the war there was nothing that looked like a warship hanging around their main space station, but they tend to be both isolationist and secretive. No reason they'd want to flash what they have to impress me. Especially in the middle of a war, and the system scan can easily be edited for visitors. Timilo didn't even say what class of vessel would go back with them." Gordon thought about it a minute and frowned. "He didn't even say explicitly that it was one vessel and not more."
"I actually approve of that, over making regular 'show the flag' visits like North America does. I don't see that as anything but thinly veiled intimidation," Lee said.
"It does make me curious," Gordon admitted. "Perhaps we'll get a peek at what they bring through, if they don't form up a convoy far out system just to maintain their privacy. At least they have a relationship having sold them weapons. It isn't plain old mercenary service like I felt our escorting them would be."
"They don't seem aggressive, so it's none of my concern what they have to protect their own system," Lee decided.
"Most strategists would feel you are not nearly paranoid enough." Gordon told her.
"Yes, I know the mind set you are describing," Lee said. "The sort who couldn't sleep with you outfitting our ships in Fargone orbit."
"Exactly! Not that I couldn't contrive to bombard Fargone, and put a pretty big nick in their naval forces before they could figure out there was a problem and respond, but a person has to have a reason to do something like that. That's when you know it's pure paranoia, when there is no reasonable benefit to doing so, but they worry anyway. Fargone is a resource to us. Why would I damage the people we are using for staging and supply? It was crazy."
"I can kind of understand. It’s crazy, unless . . . the entire project of gathering the Little Fleet was a facade to gather a strike force in Fargone orbit," Lee said, cocked her head over with wild eyes, and smiled a deliberately crazed smile.
Gordon looked at her, horrified. "Don’t you go down the rabbit hole too!”
"Maybe it's a Human weakness," Lee mused.
"That's remarkably open minded of you," Gordon said, "but no, paranoia seems to be within the reach of any thinking creature. Talker and Ha-bob-bob-brie have both admitted it is present in their cultures. I've seen pretty strong evidence of it in the flood of messages Timilo sent me. Besides, it isn't really a weakness if people really are out to get you. Sometimes that is the reality."
"Is anybody out to get you right now?" Lee asked, playfully.
"I'm sure they are, somewhere, behind the scenes," Gordon said, and did a classic slow eye scan, side to side.
Lee laughed appreciating his drama.
"Something you should know," Gordon said, trying for nonchalance. "Sally at the bank said Clare seemed really down, so I visited while I was in town. I think she has been pushing herself too hard, close to burning herself out really. I suggested she take a break, a vacation even. I offered your condo on Fargone, if that's OK. You should tell your people there to expect her in case she shows up." He hoped belatedly that Lee wouldn't feel he'd presumed.
"Oh, sure, I'm not going to be using it. Does she need a ride?" Lee worried.
"I think it would be a good life lesson for her to have to deal with commercial transport," Gordon suggested. "She already has the bank here to help make reservations."
"You're right, and it's not Association business, so it would be expensive, and I'd have to charge it to my accounts," Lee decided. "But it's good to give my housekeeping and security something to do, so they don't think they're on a perpetual vacation."
Gordon nodded approval. She was getting command skills, little by little.
Chapter 17
"Why make such a fuss about a minor simplification in form?" Born protested. "If the gravitation constant cancels out in the equation, you know it is there. The sort of fellow who makes sure the ship actually jumps when the captain commands it doesn't care about the elegance of the full expression. It's probably less confusing to him to have two symbols less among what are already too many of the dreary things confusing him.
"It no longer describes reality," Musical objected. It was obviously an emotional issue for him. It offended him.
"OK, it no longer describes possible realities," Born allowed with an offhand flip of his hand, as if he were throwing the point away. "It describes our reality that gravity is constant."
"No! It describes a special case. One that I'm not even sure it true outside limited locality. Gravity is certainly variable in at least one case. We temporarily alter gravity with mechanisms for our ships and space stations," Musical protested.
Born looked very skeptical. "A rotating frame of reference which accelerates a mass around a fixed point is not truly gravitational."
"Of course it's not. Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm not talking about spinning things. We have a mechanism that produces a pseudo-gravitational field. It has spinning parts, of exotic material, but it isn't a centrifuge. See? I know the proper word for that sort of machine."
"Well, we don't have such a thing," Born informed him.
"You do now," Musical insisted. "We sold gravity plates to the Little Fleet. I imagine they have torn a few apart and are figuring out the best way to produce and sell them. Here, if you don't believe me the easiest way is to show you. The Dart is in orbit. Somebody has to be on duty even if it isn't underway. If they don't have the deck plates activated they can turn them on for you."
Musical called the ship and didn't even need his call to be transferred. It opened on a Badger lounging in a big powered chair that had to be an acceleration couch on the command deck. A panel behind him appeared to be the back of a com console. The fellow had a cup in his hand, probably the local coffee they were enjoying, while they could, where it was relatively cheap. He said something to Musical in Badger who replied, and then he considered the Derf he had on the slit screen with narrowed eyes.
"I don't speak Derf, but I have fair English," he offered Born. "Technician Musical informs me you really do wish to speak to me. He assures me he didn't connect here at random. Since I've only had one com call all shift, which was from a drunken Derf waving a coupon for a honey ham pizza, I welcome a call. I couldn't help him. Do you really speak the Human language too?"
"Yes, I can use English too," Born assured him. "No few Derf do now."
"In that case, Greetings," the Badger said, saluting him with his cup. "You've reached the Badger vessel Dart in Derfhome orbit. I'm Officer of the Day by English conventions, ship-sitter by Badger usage. So you may address me as Sitter if you have need. I know the technician here by reputation as a humorless fellow, so you must have business. How may I help you?"
"The techie, Musical," Born said, using the shortened name form, "tells me that you have devices which can create an artificial gravitational field. I wish to see that demonstrated."
Sitter blinked a couple times and then did a distinctive Badger smile. "What do you think is keeping my coffee in my cup?" he asked, doing another, somewhat half-hearted salute with it. "I set the plates to half Badger standard and it makes drinking it much simpler, but I'm still light enough my butt doesn't go numb sitting in this gods forsaken chair for hours."
"Could you show me by turning them off? I can't tell you are in orbit," Born insisted.
"You should have noticed the speed of light lag," Sitter insisted, "but fine." He put a cap on the coffee cup, set it out of sight somewhere, and fiddled with something on his board. Then he reached back and grabbed the arms of his couch. He didn't stand up, he pushed straight up and twisted his wrist, floating over the arm, in a pose impossible to hold under any weight, turning until he could grab his head rest.
He smoothly did a turn around the back of his coach in the horizontal plane, but pulled his legs and tail up to clear the console behind him. Zero G was obviously not any new experience for him. His moves were smooth and natural. He got reoriented to the seat without letting go and pulled himself back in the seat, but loosely floating.
Reaching out of the camera range he retrieved the coffee mug, positioned it in mid-air, and let go of it smoothly between him and the camera. He drew his hand back slowly straight away from the mug. The way it stayed floating in position with no tumble and almost no drift testified that he had a lot of experience handling things in zero G. He smiled at the camera, enjoying showing off, and grabbed the mug again. When he reached off camera with his free hand to touch some control again, he visibly settled in the seat, and his hand with the mug dipped as it acquired weight again.
"Satisfied?" he asked. "If this was to settle some sort of a bet you should tip me," Sitter said, shifting his gaze to Musical's side of the screen.
"You've been talking to the Fargoers too much," Musical said. "It never occurred to me to turn it into a bet. We're arguing about drive theory."
"Well, I've heard Humans will argue how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. I had to have both those items explained to me, and I still think it's silly. Fargoers will bet on which bird will fly first of two sitting on a fence," Sitter said. "I'm not that 'fargone' yet," he quipped.
"He makes jokes in English," Born said, amazed. "Ones even I recognize."
"Thank you for your service," Musical said, much more formally than Sitter, and disconnected. Sitter was entirely too informal for him, and he felt vaguely disrespected. It never occurred to him Sitter might have been offended by Born's lack of trust.
"I'm just really upset nobody told us about this," Born said. "This is a major discovery in my field we need to understand. I want to hear your explanation of how and why this works."
Musical scrunched his muzzle up until it was all dimpled, and he looked upset. "That's a problem. We've had this for some time and nobody has a clue how the damn stuff works." He looked aside clearly embarrassed.
"But, usually something like this only works inside narrow parameters, and you form the theory and then with careful engineering, if it's even within your abilities, you create the physical thing that will express the theory," Born said.
"Wouldn't that be nice and neat?" Musical asked. "Truth is, some technician had actual printed sheets by the mixer in the metallurgy lab, because he wasn't very bright and needed explicit instructions. He still managed to get them out of order. He put a big batch of very expensive ingredients in the mixer to make the needed alloy. It was the wrong color when fused and far too brittle for what was expected. The sheet of the material also levitated when violently spun across the table in anger by the supervisor. If the supervisor had just flipped it over the other way when he tossed it, he'd have probably not noticed that it pushed itself down on the table. The whole thing would have been missed, the technician fired, and that would have been the end of the matter."
"I'm not even sure there is an English word for that," Born said.
"Oh there is, serendipity," Musical supplied. "Instead of being fired the idiot is rich and famous. I'm sure there is no adequate English word for that. Nor Badger word for that matter."
"Lucky," Born suggested.
"Lucky?" Musical scoffed. "Lucky is when you are walking along and find a half copper on the ground. This fellow would walk along blind to his surroundings, fall head first in the neighbor's cesspool, and come up with a gold chain around his neck!"
"Maybe we'll have to invent a new word for that level of the phenomena," Born admitted.
"The proper English expression is to coin a word," Musical said. "Appropriate, isn't it?"
"Like stamping a coin out between dies?" Born asked.
"Exactly," Musical agreed.
"Well friend," Born said, "We need to coin a theory to explain this thing. Since you make clear it is no secret, when can I get some details and a look at the actual device that works?"
Musical hesitated, and then decided the Derf didn't use friend the same way he did, and not to read too much into it. "I can send you some files that describe the mechanism, and the mixture, that fused, creates the important material. I'm not sure what I have to do to pry one loose from the supply officer."
"That's sufficient I'm sure," but Born frowned. "How did they ever figure out what he'd mixed wrong?"
"The sheets were still in the wrong order. Or the right new order I guess. They've tried to vary the ratios and do substitutions to no end," Musical revealed. "It's particularly aggravating for those who think they understand how it works, and then their formula does nothing. Be warned, a lot of good minds have failed to explain it. Do not be disheartened if no sudden revelation bursts upon your understanding in any fullness."
"I'm no stranger to lengthy contemplation," Born said, unworried. "Perhaps it's good I don't know Badger theory well yet. A look from a fresh perspective, before I have my vision narrowed from previous assumptions may be useful."
"Let's make a short report to our benefactress on what we've established between us, and the direction we are going to pursue," Musical suggested.
"But we have no conclusions to present at all," Born objected.
"Very little," Musical agreed. "But we've established that the gravitational factor is not a constant in our universe, even if we don't have an expanded expression of its full nature."
Born tilted his head sharply to acknowledge that was so.
"We've spent a very large sum of her money already to gather research materials. She's young and may grow disheartened easily and even think to abandon the effort prematurely. It's worth keeping her support alive to know we have reached any conclusion at all," Musical said.
"Let us say this to her then," Born proposed. "The gravitational factor customarily dropped in the simplified form of drive mathematics may mislead those not familiar with the fullness of the theory. The creation of pseudo-gravitational fields with Badger technology, suggests there are real mechanisms possible in our universe that could, among other practical uses, alter the expression of jump technology outside the electromagnetic factors alone.
"Of course Lee will ultimately be interested in applications, and all we are looking at so far is theory. Do you think that is too hopeful a summary for her understanding?"
"Not at all, that's very well said. She's young for a Human female, but seems to hear what you are actually saying instead of what she wants to hear," Musical said, which was high praise for him. "If she were looking to an immediate application she'd be talking to engineers instead of us. I'm sure she won't jump ahead and make unfounded assumptions from mere possibility."
* * *
"The New Japanese formed up with the Badgers pretty far out-system," Gordon told Lee. I can't blame them. Why share any information you don't have to with us? I thought it would be unfriendly to paint them with really high end radar, so I let it go. All we could see was they had two vessels we'd call destroyer sized. They are here to help our guests anyway, even if they were unwanted guests. I doubt the New Japanese are aware of all the internal Badger politics. All they care about basically is if they get paid OK. So we're down to a dozen Badgers and a handful of Bills in system."
"That's fine with me," Lee said. "I like the ones left and won't miss the daily drama of the others trying to find some reason they were important and needed that to be acknowledged."
* * *
"Well crap, once you know something is possible, the rest is just engineering," Lee said to herself aloud, reading Born and Musical's report. To these fellows, if you held out a rock and let go, it was just a theoretical possibility it would fall. It might fly off straight up this time. Although to give credit where due, if it did, they'd think on it and give you a plausible explanation why in a few years.
Why hadn't she seen that the Badger gravity plates would matter to drive tech first time she heard of them? Why hadn't Thor seen that if he understood the theory so well? It seemed obvious to her now that altering gravity would alter the drive parameters if it was a factor in the math. How much and what you needed for a lever to change it were the next questions. She didn't think like these two, and it just wasn't that they were Badger and Derf. They were more like each other than her. They were in a different fraternity that spoke a different language in which she wasn't very proficient. So she formulated her question back to them as carefully as she knew how.
Thank you. I'm aware of my own lack of depth in understanding this. As near as I can express it, does this gravitational quantity we now see as a variable have a vector? And if it is a variable, in what units does it vary? Does its quantity vary in any known relationship to other factors such as energy and velocity we have firmer knowledge about? Or is it still beyond our understanding?"
"I remember the Badgers said they don't use it in an accelerating ship, because the field created by an operating plate displays momentum, and resistance to acceleration. Does that mean it creates a pseudo-mass in proportion to its pseudo-gravitation? Or should I be dropping the pseudo label at all because real is real even if not in the form I'm used to thinking about? Please, do continue your studies and inform me.
Lee Anderson
"That's a fair amount of assumption," Born said, dismayed.
"But fairly coherent, even given she managed to state it without reference to a single mathematical expression," Musical said. "And it was completely hardware neutral."
"We can plug the right symbol in for the common word and make the questions mean something, to us" Born said. "It's amazing, it does translate. She must have an intuitive understanding of the math down somewhere under the conscious level, or this would just be gibberish."
"Well those were basically the questions we were going to ask anyway," Musical said. "Those are pretty nearly what everybody has wondered since the guy screwed up the mix. We have our day jobs, but also clearly our marching orders to pursue this, and she hasn't yanked our funding, so we should keep pursuing it, don't you think?"
"How could we not?" Born asked. "I'm just not sure how," he admitted.
"It never hurts to ask other smart people, and they might have insights," Musical said. "We have the names Lee mentioned, did you see if there are com codes associated?"
"I never thought to look," Born admitted. "We could shoot off an inquiry but it may already be buried in the data we bought." He looked down and entered the question manually since he had the audio open to Musical. Trying to talk and voice command the computer back and forth and keep them straight was awkward, and sometimes had hilarious unintended results.
"Oh . . . James Weir, the principal author of the seminal paper, is dead and has been for quite a long time. I didn't look at the date of the paper. I don't think in Human dates anyway. He was killed testing his theory. It seems like that was mentioned in passing somewhere, I just forgot about it." Musical did a Badger frown again.
"This totally doesn't make any sense. The Singh names are associated with Weir as contemporaries if you group the replies with all names by date, but no obituaries listed and some of the other references to the Singhs seem much later than is possible. Human years aren't that different. Should we ask Lee why she grouped them? Maybe the Singhs emigrated out of the Solar system and that's why they aren't mentioned later in the English web fraction?"
"I wouldn't bother her. I suspect this is one of those things that become obvious if you ask a few more questions. Humans sometimes keep a given name in the family, and neglect to tell you if they are a second or third generation using that name. It's needlessly confusing. Let's just include a request for the linage and date of death or immigration status in our next round of inquiries. Or it may be a name assumed in admiration, just as I style myself Born for Humans, and he's quite dead too."
"Very well, now, on a different tack, as to the nature of the exotic material that we know," Born continued, "the fact the proportions have strict ratios speaks to the alloy being a specific compound to me. You see the same thing in a number of superconductors. Are you familiar with X-ray crystallography?" He and Born went on for some time, and made a lot of plans . . .
* * *
"It still doesn't make any sense," Born said the next time a ship came in with their previous inquiries. "I do have a current com code for Jeffery Singh. The other Singh seems to have dropped from usage. Should we bother to ask the current user about the science?"
"What can it hurt?" Musical asked. "It may at least satisfy our own curiosity. Jeff Singh may reply that Grandfather made the family proud and he is honored to carry the name but his thing is massage therapy, and he'd be happy to discuss relieving back pain."
"Or he may have inherited a treasure trove of grandfather's notes," Born said hopefully.
* * *
"This doesn't make any sense," Jeff Singh said of the latest search requests from Derfhome.
"Lee paid for these searches, so she is aware of them. She knows we aren't going to share our drive technology with them at this point. We told them that plainly. I can't find anything on this Badger. We don't have any data on the group that stopped at Derfhome, and most of them went home already. The Derf is an academic in their version of a university. At least that makes sense. He's a physicist, and of the sort that drive theory would be within his field of interest. She has to know we'd be aware of extra-Solar searches of the Earth web."
"No telling," Heather decided. "As Sovereign, sometimes I set things in motion and am shocked at the way they snowball and the directions they take before the results get back to me. I'm looking at how much money Lee has. Just the income from her claims on Providence is staggering. The girl may have more liquid funds in legal tenders than me. She could have told them to charge the data searches to her and never notice a few tens of millions of dollars Ceres as a line item. Maybe she made a general inquiry of these two and doesn't know we can follow who looks at what so closely."
"Well, if so, her guys zeroed in on the one area I hate to see them pursue. It's not like she just wanted to know about drive theory. She could take a standard class in that easily enough. These two are looking at exactly what everyone else has been happy to ignore for years. At least one of them has to be entirely too damn smart," Jeff complained.
"At least they haven't called you up on com and directly asked how to apply gravitationally exotic materials to enhancing jump ship technology," April said. "They know something isn't quite right, but how would they know what if they don't have any quantum fluid?"
"That's the key," Jeff agreed. "It seems pretty unlikely they can ever discover it, because my step-mum admitted it was one of those random mistakes that happen from time to time. I've got samples of it and I can't reproduce it. I've used the same elements and produced some materials with very interesting electrical properties, but nothing that has any of the same gravitational properties."
Jeff looked even more unhappy. "Not that I want the Earthies to get their hands on any. Somebody might get lucky."
"I suppose," Heather allowed. "It's like the old thing about enough monkeys pounding on a keyboard. Eventually one might pound out Romeo and Juliet. There are only so many letters and similarly, there are only so many elements in so many valence states, and some fool could try random combinations of them endlessly. But what are the odds of hitting the jackpot before the end of time?"
"And this stuff is so fussy in preparation that it appears it would be like getting "Romeo and Juliet" with zero typos," Jeff said. "But I'm paranoid."
* * *
Clare had been isolating herself so much she found the bustle of Landing stimulating. It had a lively nature, especially at night, that just didn't happen on Derfhome. Not even in their biggest city. She was adjusted to being around Derf so much that she found it odd to see so many humans and only the rare Derf, the reverse of where she lived and went to school.
Lee's condo was really nice, and it made even more real how rich she was, because when she mentioned to the housekeepers that Lee must not use it much they'd laughed, and informed her Lee hadn't used it at all yet, but was very interested in furnishing it, and how the garden areas were established. Lee requested video updates of the progress and had suggestions. They were sure she intended to show up and enjoy it - when she was able.
The couple assigned to security for the condo served as Clare's personal security when she went out. It was a new experience and much less intrusive than she thought it would be. They might seem like friends meeting her at a restaurant to others, although they informed her other security would make them as pros by their actions.
Clare found them rather young to be high level security professionals, until she realized they had the same life extending treatments Gordon told her about. After she looked really closely at people in public, and them, she started seeing there were subtle differences between young people and people who were young again. Some was in the details around the eyes and the shape of the hands, but as much was in their public demeanor, and how they acted socially.
She hadn't been around many Humans her own age on Derfhome, and she thought the male security was pretty cute, but then she saw the little looks and occasional proprietary touch that told her they were a couple personally instead of just professionally. She was glad she saw that and figured it out before she'd made a fool of herself, and ruined their easy camaraderie with her when they went out.
Given the difficulty of meeting anybody with a security team guarding her, and her own reluctance to state her own desires and intentions frankly, she decided it was not the time or place to meet anyone new, especially not potential boyfriends. Bringing them back to Lee's place the team would likely want to do a deep background check on anyone. It took all the spontaneity right out of it. But it was something to keep in mind for back home, because she saw she needed to back off the prolonged intense level of study with no other life.
This was really fun and she was enjoying it, but she smiled at herself that it had only taken a week here before she thought in terms of when she'd be going back home.
* * *
Dear Mr. Singh,
We are Derf and Badger who go by the usual names of Born and Musical in our dealings with Humans. Born is an academic in the College of Physical Studies associated with what you would regard as the principal university in Derfhome City, on the planet of the same name. Musical is a technician associated with the Badger consulate recently established here. As is our custom, Born is a name assumed from my field of interest since he was a Human pioneer in my field and I'd honor him.
We are both reasonably capable in standard Human English to correspond without any translation between us. These are our direct thoughts.
We have been requested to investigate various aspects of the theory behind jump ship technology, to make a report, and act as tutors as needed to a very generous local patron outside our principal employment. Our research found interesting variations in how Humans approached this area of study compared to our own cultures.
If you are still interested or conversant in the field as was the Jeffry Singh associated with the original Human discovery, we'd welcome a dialog. We find that a simplification of the original expressions defining the jump theory tends to narrow and obscure the impact of gravitational factors over the electromagnetic in practical application. More specifically the effects of exotic materials which generate gravitational flux, could prove out the aspects of jump theory normally ignored, and have practical application to jump ship mechanics.
We will keep these initial comments short unless you express some interest in the matter. Even if your answer is that it is of no further interest to you, feel free to charge an interstellar message to us as a recipient funded message so we may dismiss the matter from mind.
Your sincere associates of the mind, Born and Musical/ Derfhome. Codes attached.
"They pretty much have it figured out," Jeff said, in despair. "I should have realized anyone with Lee's resources wouldn't just go take a class. After all if I wanted to be schooled on something of complexity I'd hire a tutor, or tutors, to attend me at my convenience. And it looks like she picked a couple people who know their business."
"I wouldn't assume they have it all figured out," Heather counseled. "They have elements of it figured out. It's obvious Lee didn't confide a lot of things in them or they would have known to not write you. They aren't sure who they are talking to. It's obvious they think you may be a short lived descendent of the original researcher. I'd say they aren't talking with Lee every day or she'd have stopped them from inquiring of you."
"They're close," Jeff said.
"And if they do figure out a gravity jump drive, we always knew that was a possibility, or that we'd find another race out among the stars who'd done the same thing," April said.
"It makes me want to go much deeper. Across the Galactic core, or maybe even try the jump to a neighboring Galaxy," Jeff said.
"Around the core," April insisted. "It looks ugly in there."
"This doesn't mean they are going to publish and give this drive to everybody," Heather pointed out. "Lee is no friend of Earth, she had a chance to sample their hospitality. I doubt she wants them bursting forth upon the stars."
"But if the Badger sphere of influence has it, the Badgers and the Bills, because the others seem a side issue, can we let Earth not have it? Do we take a chance on Humanity becoming a secondary race?" Jeff asked.
"it's complicated," April insisted. "Look at the size of the claims their Little Fleet made along the route to the Badger frontier. That will take the Human sphere centuries to fully exploit."
"Except it's not going to be just Human," Jeff said. "There are a lot of Derf who have an interest and even a few Hin."
"Well isn't that what we wanted?" Heather said. "They are expanding and coexisting with the Derf and the Badgers with whom they came in contact. That's basically what our goal was, that Humans be held back until they didn't go blasting through the neighboring civilizations like Cortez through the Americas. If it's Fargone and Derfhome Humans it's still Humans having a part in a relatively peaceful expansion. If actual Earth Humans never get their act straightened out to engage in it, does that really matter? Aren't the Space Humans sufficient to our goals? I don't see any of these races shoving huge numbers of their core populations out in a mass migration. I'm not sure anybody has the will to build that many ships. Maybe we off Earth Humans are sufficient to carry Humanities' banner."
"I refuse to do evil to give Humans the stars over other species," April said, flatly.
"No, no, nobody is talking about that," Jeff insisted. "It's not like we're in danger of being bottled up in one star system and surrounded now. The only place I see any potential for ugly conflict is the Biters. They were a surprise, and if they got loose with a really fast long range drive it might take some harsh action to keep them from harming not just us, but a lot of other races. I can't see the Badger group letting the Biters get hold of anything that would endanger their civilization. I hope they never put us in the position to deal with that."
"Read the letter again, and think," Heather said. "They invite dialog. I don't think they have the guile to be plain old fishing for information. They're academics, or the one is. Neither do Derf have the same urge to secrecy we have. Invite them to expand on their statement about having exotic materials. Ask how they prepare them. Best to reply quickly too, because they may say something at any time to tip off Lee what she has put in motion."
"Help me frame a reply then, right now," Jeff asked his women. "I doubt I can ask with what you would call a straight face, even in a written message my reluctance about the whole endeavor may bleed through."
Chapter 18
"I've got some good news," Born told Lee, "We found a descendant of Jeff Singh who is familiar with jump drive technology, and is willing to have a discourse about it. We may be able to gain some insights into the historic divide between the camps describing the seminal equations two ways. He replies he is familiar with that history and asks what exotic material the Badgers have created. He describes several similar preparations with which he is familiar that have quite unusual electromagnetic properties. It's interesting, they use the same basic materials, but in combinations we haven't used."
"Oh Dear God . . . Have you replied to him?" Lee asked.
"Not yet, we thought you'd like to know of our progress, and perhaps have some input in our reply," Born said.
"Has he shared a formulation for an exotic material with strong gravitational properties?"
"Uh, no, although these he sent are very interesting," Born said.
"And you haven't sent back instruction for gravity plate materials?" Lee asked.
"No, although it seems reasonable to reciprocate. We can certainly ask for more specific materials in which you are interested," Born offered.
"No, please, don't make any reply yet. There are several critical facts I failed to tell you. I'd like to talk with both you and Musical before you enter the next phase of discovery. I have a com address for Jeff Singh's business partner, but I'm not sure I have the one you're using. Send me his current address, please. I'll make a brief reply to him and express thanks, but I beg you please, don't send him anything about gravity plate fabrication before I talk to you."
"Well certainly, if that's what you want. Your kindness has made our entire line of research possible. Here's his addy," Born said, putting it on her screen.
"How about if I come into Derfhome City and see you the day after tomorrow?" Lee asked.
"That would be pleasant. Where would you like to meet?" Born asked.
"I'll stay in what they call the Old Hotel. I'll get a suite and you can join me any time towards dinner. I'll have them serve us in my rooms, and I'll reserve rooms for both of you so you don't have to go home tired if we carry the discussion on late."
"I'm looking forward to that," Born said. "I know Musical will be delighted too."
"Until then," Lee said, and disconnected.
She composed a message to Singh before even getting up from the com.
Mr. Singh,
We have not met, but I know your friend April. I think well of her, and would like to meet both you and Heather in the fullness of time. I certainly don't wish to start any relationship with you on an adversarial basis, but my hired people got ahead of me with surprising initiative when they contacted you. I thank you for the cordial tone you took in dealing with them, and the information you shared. However, when it comes to other information, of greater gravity, I must politely ask you show me yours before I show you mine.
Sincerely, First daughter of the Third love son of the Four Hundred-Seventy Third First Mother of Red Tree, by the Hero of the Chain Bound Lands, Second line of the short haired folk, of Gordon - Lee Anderson."
* * *
"I have to go to Derfhome tomorrow and talk to some people I hired, doing research for me," Lee told Gordon by text. She wasn't even sure where he was, except somewhere around the Keep, because he'd joined her at breakfast. She actually wondered if he had a romance going, but that was none of her business. "It's a cordial meeting and no need of an escort, unless you have bank business or something. Tell me if you need anything picked up and I'll shop for it while I'm in the big city."
"Talker may be ready to go back. I'll ask if he wants to share the ride, if he doesn't mind a walk. I'm not that rushed today so I'll walk out to the saddle by the fort for pickup. It does create a stir and people stop working and come outside to watch any time an air car comes in and lands. Some of them will stand and stare until it leaves. The Mothers haven't said anything but it's disruptive." Love you, Lee
* * *
"Well, it was worth a try," Heather said. "Maybe it's for the better."
"Why?" Jeff asked, confused.
"If her people had blabbed what sort of material they have with interesting gravitational properties, then what would have happened?" Heather asked, reasonably.
"It might have given me insight to make quantum fluid like my stepmom supplies us and made us a little more secure and independent," Jeff said.
"And what would they have expected?" Heather asked Jeff. "Would they not have thought you should reciprocate with your own formula of at least equal value?"
"But I can't, and there's no firm expectation I could, even using their information. At least not for awhile, until I had time to work on it some more."
"And what are the chances they would believe that, and not simply conclude you cheated them and treated their trust with contempt?"
"Oh," Jeff said, softly.
* * *
Born looked stunned, Musical looked rattled. It was a new look in Lee's catalog of expressions for a Badger. She was sure neither believed anything she said at first. They looked at each other with a silent but firm conviction she was psychotic, when she described life extension therapy. It was pretty scary to see such a hard censure on both alien faces, especially since she liked both of them. Lee could tell they were absolutely sure she was delusional when she described her ride in Gabriel's ship.
The saving grace was she'd developed the firm habit of wearing a body cam whenever she could. It looked like a piece of jewelry, the lens shaped like a faceted gem, not the curved dome of a lens everyone expected. She had almost her entire voyage with the Little Fleet recorded that way. She'd also worn it on her dinner trip with Gabriel, and recorded the spectacular sequence of jumps taken in simply going to dinner.
"Would you run that again?" Musical asked in awe.
Lee cycled it again for Musical, but Born said nothing, sulking.
"I hope you aren't going to say I created an elaborate video to perpetuate a hoax on you two?" Lee worried.
"No, I'm upset you didn't tell us the whole deal right from the very start. We looked like fools, blundering around, reaching ridiculous conclusions."
"To whom would you seem so foolish?" Lee asked. "Not me. I knew what you were working with. I didn't give you enough at the start to figure it out, and frankly it's not about you. I'd bet anything Jeff Singh doesn't think you're fools. He's likely terrified of how close you both have gotten to his deepest secret."
"That's what's bothering Born," Musical said. "He was thinking he was a player."
"I absolutely was not," Born insisted. "But I thought I had some idea what was going on. Now I find out I have no idea what was going on, not just in my world, but my Galaxy."
"I suppose they haven't gone off to other galaxies," Musical said, but without confidence.
"It would be reckless to assume the jumps would scale up several orders of magnitude," Born said. "You'd need to send an automated drone first, and then a crewed vessel when the drone showed it was safe."
"Jeff, and the two ladies who are his partners, would be loath to do that," Lee said.
"Why?" they both asked with nearly one voice.
"They don't want the technology to get out," Lee said. "Bad enough to let it loose to those you know, but do you want to send off such a drone, for the very reason it might not come back, and then wonder who or what might find it among the stars?"
"Make it blow up if it doesn't return in a set period of time," Musical decided quickly.
"Well, that makes it all better," Lee said, sarcastically. "You'd risk sending a probe into an unknown alien star system, that might have a very advanced race. One that has no particular grudge against you, yet. Then, when they send a ship with a few of their best and brightest to check out your drone, maybe the local ruler's favorite son aboard, it would blow up on them for no particular reason. What a great introduction that would be. Then assume that they're smart enough to back track it to us for a worst case scenario."
'That seems a very low probability," Musical said.
"Unlikely doesn't hack it, tell me impossible," Lee invited.
"I've had a hard time saying impossible ever since our mother's elderly cleaning lady ran off with the gardener's handsome young son," Musical admitted.
"You two can see how it might technically work, but consider, you'd both have a very hard time dealing with all the political fallout such a device would dump on you. It's a horrible burden of responsibility," Lee said. "If you aren't risk averse with a secret like this you're crazy!"
"So then, you want the burden of this secret . . . because?" Born asked.
"I haven't got any better sense," Lee answered flippantly.
"So she is crazy," Musical decided, "Just not any common crazy we'll ever figure out."
"Works for me," Born agreed. "These three at Luna sound about as bad."
"So, do you want to keep working for me to understand the drive, or do you want to be cut loose, and not be associated with me anymore?" Lee asked. "Our contract is posted to the public net," she reminded them. "You can work on theory all you want, but not the hardware. I'd remind you, I have never been cheap with my people. If this leads to commercial hardware I will be generous. You can ask Talker if we didn't treat him very well for his service to the fleet."
"I really want to know how this drive works, and I don't stand a chance of finding out without your financial backing," Born admitted. "I am allowed business and deals outside the university."
"Yes, crass as it sounds, I don't have the resources to pursue this," Musical said. "Wealth for its own sake doesn't excite me. I see people consumed by the desire to be rich, but I have to say, it's nice when it allows you to do things like this. I know Talker allowed this. But I'd feel better to have your leave to keep him up to date on it."
"I don't have any secrets from Talker," Lee said. "He is my friend and will never betray my interests." That rattled Musical far more than she realized, and he was able to hide that from Lee, this time. She was getting better and better at subtle expressions. Musical wasn't averse to having secret or two from his boss himself. The easy matter of fact way Lee said it with no hesitation had a ring of truth to it even across their species differences.
"Your attitude is a fair explanation of how I feel about having this drive," Lee allowed, more seriously than her earlier quip. "Not that it will make me rich, because if I was just interested in money I have as much as I can reasonably spend. But the drive will allow me to do interesting things. Gabriel, who gave me that ride, tried to minimize the benefit, saying how it served us better to go slow when the Little Fleet went to Badger space, but I don't see him giving up his fast ship to go slow. I didn't argue with him. It was obviously self serving."
"Perhaps it was a misguided attempt to make you feel better, since he couldn't share it."
Lee looked at Born amazed. She hadn't explained that Gabriel seemed to have a fixation on her being like April. It said a lot about her perception of social things that an alien could give her insights on Human relationships. "That could be," Lee told him.
* * *
"The way I see it," April said, "we have an indefinite period of time here, in which we can head off or mitigate other Humans, the Derf and the Badger civilization getting an upgraded jump drive, but we know it's coming now that they understand the theoretical basis."
"No, I can't see that we can have much influence on it at all," Heather said, shaking her head. "Once they see the theoretical potential there's little we could do to make them turn aside from pursuing it. It's simply too attractive a prize. Not unless, as April would say, we do evil, such as assassinate the minds we know are working on it. Mitigating it may be a possibility, but I have to ask how?"
"Indeed," Jeff agreed. "Once you've gone over to dealing in assassination what do numbers mean? Once you are dirty you have to keep covering up and protecting your investment. That naturally progresses to assassinating anyone we know capable of working on it. There's no turning back once you start down that road. They would then figure out who the only party is with an interest in suppressing the technology. Thus it eventually progresses to get ugly and personal for us. We'd all have a big bull's-eye painted on our backs, and I couldn't even blame them for responding to it that way, tit for tat."
"What are our objectives?" Heather asked. "Have they changed? Do they need to change?"
All three sat and pondered that in silence for awhile.
"The idea we started with was to avoid seeing all the political factions on Earth carry their conflicts off Earth and have war in the solar system and then later, in the stars." April said. "The Derf war was unexpected, but at least it avoided planetary bombardment."
"I think we did pretty well by the solar system," Heather claimed, and looked at either of them to deny it.
"But they would have fought us over denying them the stars," Jeff said.
"We all agreed, at the time," April reminded him. "I still agree. We couldn't get anything we'd have called a victory without being monsters, and for anything less than a total victory our own destruction within the solar system was a real possibility."
Heather shook her head no. "We'd have been branded criminals and outlaws wherever they found us later," she insisted.
"And likely we'd have been tested again, if it weren't for the battle of Thessaly," Jeff said.
"Yes, but people discount lessons from before they were born," April insisted. "So we can't count on them remembering that very long, as a lesson to apply to themselves, especially not since they live shorter lives. In each generation, the sort of personalities who take the leadership, discount their predecessors as fools or grunting savages. They think they are the first generation of god-like ones. They figure if only they had been there in the past things would have been different! They'll look at the recordings and say: But we have far better systems and weapons now. Look at this old stuff! We can take them. And they will never allow that we've been improving too."
"We have had some success outside the solar system," Heather insisted. "We stopped the theft of the aboriginals' systems. As long as it has been economically advantageous to explore, rather than try to take what others have found, they have gone for the cheap solution. It's amazing they developed the Claims Commission. I'd have predicted they wouldn't accept it if it had been our idea."
"If it had been our idea instead of theirs, they would have rejected it," Jeff asserted.
"That economic disadvantage of piracy and pillage may change when the cost of transport goes up and the close high grade resources start to be depleted," Jeff warned.
"Revealing the superior drive tech would change that economic balance to make more distant resources accessible at lower cost," April pointed out.
"But it also reduces the cost of interstellar war to where some fool might think it attractive," Jeff warned. "They always think their wars will be cheap, short and victorious."
"At some point we have to admit we've run out of reasons to restrict them for their own good, and we're doing so because we just don't want them to catch up and find the same parts of the sky we've marked for our own," Heather warned. Neither of her companions contradicted her, but they didn't look thrilled at the idea either.
"You have to admit," Jeff finally said, "no matter what label they hang on their government, monarchy, democracy or socialism, they all end up at, 'What ours is ours, and what's yours is ours too.' Tell me one that ever respected property rights once they had the power to take things by force. I can almost assure you that once an Earthie ship sees us in a nice system, with resources, they will have a fit that a couple thousand people think they can own the whole thing. It's always the same refrain, 'It isn't fair!' I do expect some trouble when they find the systems we've taken for ourselves."
"OK, we can't thwart them completely, and simply ignoring them will mean we deal with them when they expand to our holdings. How about the mitigation?" Heather asked.
"That depends on cooperation," Jeff said. "Why should they help us?"
"Because, like us, they don't want to destroy Earth in order to be left alone?" April asked. "If they wanted to, they had the means to reduce North America back to third world status. There are some personalities who would have picked that option first. It would have hurt the whole Earth economy for years. Just the effects of the strike on the Northern Hemisphere agriculture for several years would have been catastrophic."
"If they really would have done that," Jeff said, skeptically.
"You didn't talk to them," April reminded him. "I'm convinced they would have. It's their normal way of waging war on Derfhome. They fight until one clan is annihilated. It was a new thing to even try negotiations and a treaty. If I'd known their history before the war I'd have predicted it would happen. If the North Americans broke the treaty again, I have no doubt that would be the first response in a second war. There would be no point to forcing them to the negotiating table again once they proved themselves consistent liars."
"Well if your assessment of their institutional memory is correct, then it's a lost cause already," Jeff said. "When a new generation of North American leaders gets in office they'll find some necessity to ditch the Derf treaty and >WHAM<," he said, slapping the table like he was killing a bug. "They're history."
"The Derf may be smart enough to realize that," Heather speculated. "Perhaps that is the key to gaining their cooperation in denying the Earthies the gravity based drive."
"How so?" Jeff asked, frowning.
"Offer a guarantee of their autonomy if they will keep it to themselves," Heather said. "A mutual defense treaty with them, to tell the North Americans, all the Earthies actually, hands off, or you are taking us on too. It has the advantage it is doable. We can't declare a non-aggression policy everywhere in the heavens, but it is certainly within our ability to protect one star system and planet."
"I like it," April agreed, "because when they starting thinking of aggression, somebody will say - "But the Centralists may intervene just like they did with Derfhome." So it will have a secondary benefit of introducing that doubt. Also, it's all to the good that Derfhome is close to Fargone, and the restraining effect may be even stronger for them."
"What do we get again, for protecting them?" Jeff asked. "Because their protecting us is a polite fiction."
"Now, yes. Take the longer view," Heather argued. "We're sure they are going to get the better drive now that they know the theory. How soon doesn't really matter. We'll be allied with them a lot longer after they have it than before. In fact, offering to have a mutual defense treaty with them after they are on a technological par with us appears to be much more self serving. They might refuse then. By offering it before that happens we seem much more generous and principled. We also greatly reduce the chance Earth will be harmed. We're getting protection for Earth, even if they will never appreciate it."
April sighed. "I remember when things weren't so complex we had to ponder what to do."
"You aren't thinking of just giving them the drive, are you?" Jeff worried.
"No, I'd make it a point to say we don't transfer any technology," Heather said.
"Good. They could blunder around and never find the needed materials," Jeff said. "That might be simpler. Gordon certainly dealt with them before. He might again, without our help."
Heather slapped the table just like Jeff had moments before. When she lifted her hand there was a large gold coin.
"A Solar says they will have it within ten years," Heather challenged him.
"I thought you threatened to ban gambling in your kingdom a couple times?" Jeff objected.
"I've been sorely tempted to do so," Heather admitted. "It produces all sorts of problems. People take advantage of those with a compulsive disorder, who can't afford to lose. You are solidly calculating, and can easily afford the loss. The real bet here is with your ego, because you won't be able to ignore it, and will have to acknowledge how wrong you were when you pay up."
"I think I'd have to be a fool to bet against you," Jeff decided.
"Betting against the Derf really," Heather said.
"And the Badger guy," April remembered. "I doubt he is any dummy."
"How is this so doable?" Jeff asked. "Just one war ship could do significant damage to Red Tree or Derfhome. By the time they call for help their war could be over. They do visit. We can't send a ship to observe every time we see somebody leaving Earth on a Derfhome vector."
"That wouldn't work anyway," Heather said. "Even after Gordon of Red Tree . . . reduced the naval assets of North America they have significant forward bases several places. All it takes is a ship or drone to a different star and they can move on Derfhome from there."
"It suddenly occurs to me," April said. "Gordon having gravity based jump ships is something I wouldn't want to deal with, in an adversarial sense. Even given the auxiliary systems we have created. The man is a tactician of historic dimensions."
Neither argued that. The Fargoers had made all their uncensored system scans available to Central, and the level at which Gordon played 3D chess with starships was impressive.
"You must have something in mind then," Jeff surmised. "It isn't in your nature to say something is doable without a plan."
"Yes, I think it is worth stationing a representative at Derfhome to physically demonstrate our alliance. We can build a basic ship in two weeks and outfit it to custom specs in another two. We finally have enough administrative talent trained to send a spox for me to reside at Derfhome. Of course she will have her own ship there, and enforce our word if that is needful."
"This is a huge step. You're establishing a diplomatic corps," Jeff said. "At least for once we're ahead on quantum fluid to build the ship."
"I'm rather fond of the Badger custom of their official being called a voice," April said. "It goes with a monarchy better. I like it much better than ambassador. That carries too much burden and taint of Earth history. I respectfully suggest you adapt the custom. It helps establish what her position and duties are since people are already familiar with the usage.
"We agree," Heather said, dropping into royal pronouncement mode. "We shall send her off with an armed ship and my cloned ring to show her authority."
"You said her. You already have somebody in mind?" Jeff asked.
"I believe Eileen Foy has been bored and feeling the wanderlust again. She put forth a tremendous effort to leave Earth, and was satisfied with the challenge of fitting in our society and being useful, for awhile. Now I think she is less challenged. Several times recently she has suggested she would welcome a posting to one of our more distant colonies or stations. I doubt they are as interesting day to day as she imagines. Dealing with an alien race and the responsibility of speaking with my voice and physically guarding an allied star system should be enough to keep her interest for a few years."
"It's good to get people like that out and busy," Jeff said, "before they want your job."
"She's married. I remember meeting him," April said. "He has a few more years than her even with life extension. He's one of those strong silent types who you can see looking from one person to the next, sizing up everybody in the room, just in case he has to kill them all. Is he going to want to go off to Derfhome?"
"If we asked Eileen to try jumping a ship through the sun aimed at another star he'd pack a bag assuming she could do it and he'd need clean socks on the other end," Heather said. "He'll run the physical facility on planet and sit the second seat on her ship to run the weapons board if anybody gives her any trouble or fly if she wishes. It's good she has back-up that she can completely trust."
"Better tell them to fabricate two ships and two rings," April said.
"Why?" Heather asked, genuinely perplexed.
"Because the Fargoers will consider it a slight, and perhaps a sign of displeasure, if you send a Voice to the Derf and ignore your older ally you haven't seen fit to favor that way. If you start publicly acknowledging alliances you should bring the previously private ones out. Assuming they want it revealed," April added as an after-thought.
"Ahhh . . . now I have to think on who is qualified to be a second Voice," Heather said.
"How are you going to offer this?" Jeff worried. "You aren't going to send Eileen off to them to present her credentials and ask acknowledgement are you? They could embarrass you by saying no, and then pride could close the door on it in the future even if things change."
"My pride or theirs?" Heather asked, amused. "No, I'm not going to send her off to them unannounced. There is already strong dissatisfaction with the rejection of the claims the Little Fleet wanted to present to the Claims Commission. There are actually a few people coming to realize they shot themselves in the foot and diminished their own importance from sheer stupidity without any outside opposition. Watch, they'll try to retract it."
"What does that have to do with it?" Jeff insisted.
"Who else will the Derf turn to when the Earthies try to reassert their authority?" Heather asked. "I give it a year, two at the most, before they are here asking help. Likely Lee will come escorting the lesser Mother, or just even just Lee by herself."
Jeff looked like he wanted to argue, but he was aware of the Solar still laying on the table, and decided he didn't want Heather to slap down a second coin beside it.
Chapter 19
Talker was very pleased with the building. There was little left to be done, and he'd managed to miss a lot of the noise and invasive workmen by visiting Red Tree. He didn't want to label it out front as an embassy. He still wasn't sure of that translation being accurate yet. It might just be a consulate, or he might have to invent a name that more precisely described their mission.
Neither did he wish to advertise he was a Voice, as his new boss was paying for the building and his maintenance. Timilo might rightly object to Talker's other job getting first billing, or any billing at all. He finally ended up having a sign in English proclaiming it simply the Residence of the Badger and Bill Representatives to Derfhome.
It seemed silly to put it up in Derf since they would just use the English words for Badger and Bill. It would be pointless ego to put up a sign in his own language. Perhaps that could be added later if a few more people learned their language.
"That's rather nice of you to put us on the sign too," Singer allowed, "since you have no arrangement with my government to help pay for the mission."
"I'm trying to meet the spirit of Gordon's expectations instead of repeatedly finding out what makes him angry. Oddly, it doesn't seem that hard after awhile. You have been reasonable to work with. My dear departed boss would say that shows weakness and will inspire resistance, but that attitude is starting to feel like more work than it was worth."
"I think in English departed used that way might be mistaken for dead," Singer said.
"Well, the gods will hear what they wish when they spy on us mortals," Talker said. "I will bow to their wills."
Singer found that mock reverence hilarious.
"Do you find your facilities acceptable?" Talker asked.
"Yes, I never expected them to be equal," Singer was quick to say. "Still, you may have given us a greater area in proportion to our staffs. Do all your people have private rooms too?"
"They do. If they decide to pair up, it spares me having to hear that they are splitting up later, or the tedious why of it. They can simply return to their assigned room and not bother me. I have the luxury of a suite of rooms for myself, because I expect family to join me. If you develop need of that or other arrangements talk to me," Talker invited. "We have an ample lot and a budget large enough to expand if there is need. That is part of why I bought on the outskirts."
"Do you even know the names of these plants?" Singer asked, waving at the landscaping.
"Not yet. I did ask they not plant anything known to be very toxic. A lot will grow into the space allotted for it, and look much better in a few years. The plantings along the property edge are Earth life, wild roses. I was assured they will grow into an impenetrable barrier with thorns that hostile animals or persons can't get through. In fact it will stop most ground cars."
A ground car stopped on the edge of the road as they were talking. They watched it work its way up their drive to the front entry from the roadway below. It was a utility sort of a vehicle with a flat bed, fold up sides, and a cab that could hold two Derf. It however, only had one today. He was a very polite fellow, who stopped at the edge of the property and called for permission to visit, with something tucked under his lower elbow. Talker waved him over.
"How do I make clear people may come to the door and there's no need to stand at the edge of the road," Talker asked. "We won't always be standing out front to invite them."
It was apparently an uncommon question, because the fellow had to think on it. He looked at the building searching for something.
"I'm not sure if I should regard this as a business or a residence," He admitted. "If it is a business, then most put out a welcome sign when they are open to do business, and are very careful to take it down at night. If it is a residence, welcome would be a mistake to post, if you don't want people to just walk right in. A sign instructing visitors to come to the door would be appropriate. Most Derf would have a chime. Humans seem to like an electronic signal. They have a horrible custom of just pounding on the door with a fist if there's no bell or button."
Singer stuck his tongue out in alarm. "That would get you shot back home!" he said.
"My sentiments exactly," the Derf agreed. "Of course if you are really fancy, with money to throw away, you should have an armed guard just like the main door of a keep."
"Hmm . . . I hesitate to do that," Talker said, "it might suggest we have delusions of sovereignty over the site like Earth embassies have, but I could find no such allowance in the decrees of the Mothers. In fact, it seems the whole idea may be new to Derfhome."
"Perhaps this will help you decide," the fellow said. He still hadn't introduced himself. "I was asked to deliver this, and if you wish, to install it. So I'm at your service."
He took the plate he was carrying out from under his arm. It turned out to be a bronze plaque with raised letters in English on top and Derf underneath. It said:
This building and occupants are regarded with favor by the Mothers of Red Tree.
To touch them is to touch Us.
"Have you ever seen such a thing elsewhere?" Talker asked.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's a first. The Mothers generally ignore the trade towns and have very limited business with the trade guilds. So this is a new thing. Do you want it, or should I take it back?"
"Do you think this compromises our neutrality?" Talker worried.
"What neutrality?" Singer objected. "Red Tree is the dominant clan in space. They're the only ones with armed ships. Lots of them have no presence at all. You for all practical purposes are a mission to Red Tree at present. If neutrality means you'd consider some other clan's interests over Red Tree you better lose your neutrality right now. The others need to step up to match what Red Tree is doing. What are they going to do for you?"
Talker looked at the Derf standing blank faced. "Are you Red Tree or just a courier?"
"The Mothers don't send hired help for something like this. I'm Red Tree and active full time military. I've seen you at the Keep, but I understand there's one of you and a whole lot of us to remember, especially since we were never introduced."
"I'm sorry, I'll correct that. I'm known by the customary Human name of Talker. I am ambassador to the Derf if they accept my credentials. I have not formally presented them. I am also a Voice of Badger law. This is Singer. He has a very similar set of duties and authority under Bill law, and we share the building."
The Derf nodded. "Formal or not, this seems like as much acceptance of your credentials and authority as you could want," he said, hefting the plaque. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Nuclear Weapons Team Leader Strangelove, and I report directly to Champion Garrett."
"Where do you think we should post your sign, Strangelove?" Talker asked.
"Your big sign there is high enough that I could drive this into the dirt in front of it and get the top edge below the sign behind."
"Do that if you would please," Talker asked. "Do you need help or tools?"
"Not at all," Strangelove said, with what Talker was sure was a look of amusement. He judged the center of their sign carefully, put the post about a third of a meter in front, and used the head of the ax from his belt to hammer it into the ground. He stepped back and examined it critically. "That works for me if you're happy."
"Yes, thank you. Can I offer you refreshment, a coffee perhaps?" Talker offered.
"No, but thanks, as much as I'd like that, I need to get rolling back."
"Please, take this to buy a cup along the way if opportunity presents itself," Talker said. He offered a silver dollar Ceres. As dear as coffee was, that was still generous. The ease with which Strangelove took it said that he'd guessed right and such a thing was within custom.
"Your kindness is appreciated," Strangelove said, and turned for his truck.
The two of them stood there looking at the sign, and wondering if they understood the full implications of it.
"Do you have any idea what the origins of his name are?" Singer asked.
"No idea. I was thinking too much about his job title to worry about his name. Look in the web fraction and there's a decent chance you'll find it," Talker suggested.
* * *
"I've been thinking," Lee told Gordon.
"Gods preserve us," he said, looking up from his breakfast with a wary look. "I didn't feel the planet shudder in its orbit."
Lee to all appearances didn't hear that, and went on.
"I think I should ask Talker to return with us to Central. He was with us before, and if he's with us again it makes clear his species and their sphere of influence are going to continue to support our managing both their claims and ours in the beyond."
"That seems reasonable, but I'm not sure Talker is going to want to go back. Why should he risk stirring up trouble for his kind when he can put off all the negotiation and potential conflict on you? He did see we weren't so important we didn't run into some bureaucratic hassles from the Claims Commission. He felt very vulnerable there, and very aware neither Central nor the Republic intervened to keep the Commission from using the medical exam for what had to be plain intimidation."
"Did he?" Lee said, surprised. "Honestly, he never hinted at that to me. I just figured it for a ham-fisted way to assert their authority after we bypassed them coming in. I don't expect any better of Earth agencies after my Earth visit. It seemed more silly posturing than threatening."
"I was with him in the exam room. Even the abbreviated exam he got after the doc was clued in that he was being used for political games was more than Talker liked. I'm better at reading his body language now, but even then I saw he was stiff and irritated, maybe even afraid."
"I'll make plain that isn't something he'll have to go through again, although it should be obvious," Lee said. "This bond of friendship runs deeper with his kind than Humans. I'm pretty sure he'll come with me even if he's uncomfortable with it."
"You don't want to abuse that friendship," Gordon said. It was a statement not a question.
"I'm not," Lee insisted. "This is to the Badger's benefit as much as ours, and that's Talker's direct concern, given either of his jobs."
"That's very persuasive," Gordon admitted. But his muzzle was still wrinkled.
"I'm going to talk to him about it this morning, on com. I'm determined to leave soon, before the Mothers start asking me if I've set a time to go. Despite what you said, I don't think this so sensitive it needs a face to face meeting."
"Perhaps not. He knows you are going," Gordon reminded her. "It occurs to me he didn't volunteer even though he was aware you're returning. You can ask for a face to face instead of a yes or no if he seems at all reluctant about the idea."
"Gordon, you didn't volunteer either." Lee said.
"I didn't have time!" Gordon said, surprised. "I would have," he protested.
"Maybe Talker just doesn't realize how supportive his presence would be," Lee guessed.
* * *
"And I would do what exactly?" Talker asked, and dipped his chin, which seemed to be the Badger equivalent of tilting his head that Humans used and Derf had acquired.
"Your presence would remind them an entire civilization supports our alternative claims system, and has a relationship with Derfhome and Fargone, not Earth."
"Singer and I affirmed that to the rep from the Claims Commission and your lawyer. I saw the news release John Bennett did before we left. He included our statements and did a very good presentation, I thought. Surely April and all her associates who command Central are aware of it as a public document?" Talker asked.
"Yes, but that was then," Lee said. "I'm negotiating an agreement with Central, not the Claims Commission or any Earthies. I'm sure they are aware of the notice we laid on them, but this is something new and has nothing to do directly with Earth. It may be different for Badgers, but believe me, your standing right there beside me would have a psychological impact that making a reference to your support on a previous issue would not.
"But you don't want Singer too?" Talker asked. Was that amusement Lee saw?
"I see Badgers as the principal race of your civilization," Lee admitted. "You don't have to tell Singer that. We can spare his feelings. I see you representing all the minor races of your sphere of influence. But like Gordon I see that as more responsibility than privilege.
"Singer isn't given to saying much, and I admit I don't feel I know him as well as you, because he is so sparing with his words. I worry that he'll say something outrageous or damaging just from not knowing English very well. I'm much more confident that you can make clear that we have a broad interest in each other."
"Ahhh . . . You want to make clear we are allies, not just for that one agreement, but in general," Talker finally figured out.
"Yes, aren't we? Your presence would make clear it is a continuing thing and that Derfhome and Red Tree, and the High Hopes Exploratory Association and its Claims Commission are all a concern of the Badgers and their associated races," Lee elaborated.
"A concern . . ." Talker said, repeating it slowly. "You are a concern of my father and his household being associated. You are a concern of mine being my friend. Are you suggesting that these groups of people may touch each other with friendship? You know we value friendship greatly, but always as an individual thing. But you are using the words I associate with family and friendship between larger associations. Indeed simple trade associations of very different individuals whose lives don't touch outside their business relationship. I'm not comfortable with that. Clarify your thinking for me."
Lee looked alarmed. "No. Definitely no," she said absolutely. "Concern may have been a bad word to use. Perhaps interest, or connection? Gordon warned me not to abuse our friendship. I don't think people are good enough to be friends in large groups. It's hard enough between individuals. Humans don't have it in them to do that, and if you try to force behavior that isn't in our nature it will end badly in betrayal and failure. The Mothers had a formal treaty with North America and look how that ended. They couldn't keep their word even written out in plain language. There was nothing of friendship there at all."
"Good, I'm glad to hear that because Badgers aren't . . ." Talker stopped and checked his private dictionary, which he hardly ever did now. "High minded enough to do that either. Look at our rivalries even within our own kind. Timilo followed to undo everything I'd accomplished if he could shift the credit for it to his agency and himself. We're selfish," Talker admitted.
"You know I was raised away from people," Lee reminded him. "In all the books and videos and stuff I've read about Human society, they always say a person would have to be a saint when they are required to be noble and self-sacrificing beyond what you can believe. I don't think I have ever known such a person."
Lee stopped and looked thoughtful. "Not of any race. I'm starting to suspect it isn't a positive thing to be that selfless, although they try to make it sound desirable. It probably just lets all the normal people take advantage of you."
"Yes, yes, and they won't appreciate it," Talker agreed, nodding. "I've seen that even within family. But what then do you intend? How then would this association work?"
"Between leaders," Lee said, making the narrative up as she went along, because the whole line of thought was new, and happening this instant in her head. Talker had just given her enough insight to make the idea crystallize.
"We can direct our agencies to help each other based on mutual trust, not any detailed agreement. We don't necessarily have to have a falling out if we fail to agree on one thing, because it isn't an item for item written out contract or treaty about which we can argue over the terms. It's just asking - here's what I'd like you to do. Is it possible? Will your people let you do this? And as we talked about before, we need to honestly credit each other with favors done and owed. It can't get too far out of balance before one will object. It lasts as long as we treat each other well, but if one of us would die or leave their agency position it would end that aspect of the relationship. Friendship . . . that is greater, aside, and I hope more permanent."
Talker didn't say anything for quite awhile, and Lee was afraid if she said more it would start to be repetitive and counterproductive. She stayed silent though it was hard.
"I see a couple things," Talker finally said. "If your life extension works, and I hope it does, then the few precious friends we gain won't be lost so quickly. That means both friendships and relationships of business trust can last a long time. I hope it works for Badgers of course."
"We're working on Derf already," Lee said, trying to be encouraging.
"Also, I think I'm coming to understand what you are describing more than before. Since Gordon forced us to work closer with the Bills I've found Singer much easier to work with than I expected. He's not a friend mind you, nor a concern. But he doesn't fit the common stereotypes as closely as I expected. He's been very responsible, for a Bill. When I go with you to Central I think I'll leave him in charge of the mission. He's ranking, if you ignore race, and I'm finding that easier all the time."
Lee already had her mouth open, ready to continue convincing Talker. "When I go with you to Central," almost flew past her hearing among the other statements. She swallowed her ready words and just nodded. "I think he will watch both your interests," she said of Singer.
"This isn't directly about Earth," Talker quoted Lee, "Not aimed at Earth as a weapon, but really, it's totally about what Earth might do isn't it?"
"If Earth gets hostile with us, yes. We don't intend to provoke them, but we may not agree on where our interests end and theirs begin. That's the biggest known danger," Lee admitted. "We're also worried about other things. The Centaurs for sure, even the Caterpillars, because we could screw up and make them hostile out of sheer ignorance. We don't know enough about them. Even the Biters if they somehow get Human tech would be a huge, ugly problem. We've found so many potential problems given the little ways we've explored, we need partners, and Central seems to be the only potential partner stronger than us militarily.
"You know from my asking your help I have to frame it in the terms of the Mother's complaint at least initially. If I come back successful or rejected, and the Mothers ask me if I made their point of contention with Central, I'll have a big problem if I can't say yes. But I can improvise and be extemporaneous after that."
"And we Badgers? You don't rate us at all. Do we fall to either side as a danger or potential asset? Are you afraid of offending me by saying?" Talker asked.
"I see you personally as an asset," Lee said. "I really like a number of Badgers. You know I adore Tish. I can't see your race being a danger to us, but Timilo made me realize we may not be able to work with all of Badgers as easily as you personally. Don't let that bother you. I can't get along with a big chunk of my own race. But I think your man Musical may be key to our understanding this drive the Centralists possess. If that's the case it will be huge, and a mind like that is sufficient to make your entire civilization very valuable to us indeed."
"It sounds to me as if you are already intending to interpret the Mothers mission and purpose very . . . broadly," Talker said. He seemed more amused than disapproving.
"Says the guy who is a master at it," Lee shot back. "I don't intend to bring harm to Red Tree or even Derfhome, although that wasn't even asked of me. No more than you'd bring harm to Far Away or the Badger civilization. I'm going to be out there on the pointy end of things and you have to give your people room to maneuver. It's too far away to micro-manage them"
Talker jerked at a sudden thought, and looked unhappy and concerned. "But if everybody has this fast drive, it's going make it a lot more tempting to try to impose central planning and management on a much bigger area."
"Yeah it is, isn't it? I don't see that as a plus either," Lee agreed.
* * *
"I'll be going back to Earth, to the Earth's Moon actually," Talker told Singer. "I'm looking to you to watch our mutual interests while I'm gone. You can deal with any local issues or interest while I'm gone. I'm instructing all my staff to direct any questions to you."
Singer showed some tongue, which was a sign of shock in a Bill. Then got control and snapped his bill back shut. "You are basically leaving me in charge?"
"Yes, why shouldn't I?" Talker challenged him. "Aren't you up to it?"
"I don't think it hinges on my ability," Singer said, somewhat defensively. "You do me honor, personally. But you gave us a home and cooperated to placate Gordon. He would be as pleased as can be to hear this. My boss however might look unfavorably on me assuming responsibility for the Badger mission, and your boss Timilo . . ." he was at a loss for words.
"Might gasp and fall on his face dead," Talker supplied. "Let's try it some time."
"You are horribly insubordinate," Singer accused.
"There must be a stronger word. I'll have to ask Lee," Talker said, unrepentant. "I've never asked you what your governments instructions were to you. Is there anything in your duty precluding you from being temporary head of a dual mission?"
"My friend," Singer said, and rattled Talker to his core with that word used so casually again. "I shall tell you exactly what I was instructed. I was never told not to share it because they couldn't imagine me doing so. I was told not to let the Badgers steal everything. There, that's the normal way my superiors think. I'm embarrassed to say that now, because I've moved away from those adversarial assumptions. However I'm still going to have to deal with them. If I try to change my superiors' attitudes too far I'll simply be removed. They could never have envisioned a dual mission. They would assume you'd give us the very least support with which you could get away."
"Remarkably, I just had a rather complicated long conversation with Lee about this very thing. We agreed that there are limits to how far you can smooth business dealings by trust and candor arising from a personal relationship." Talker couldn't bring himself to say friendship yet. That was still a leap too far. "One of the things she specifically mentioned was that if you did ask a favor, Will your people allow it?. That could be a significant problem."
"The girl is wise beyond her years, but in odd areas," Singer complained.
"Still, it seems to me your superiors would consider being handed even temporary control of the mission base far from allowing us to steal everything," Talker pointed out.
"As an official act, yes. Are you prepared to do so officially? Will you risk the eventual wrath of Timilo for doing so when he finds out? As much as I've grown comfortable working with you I won't run the place simply as a favor," Singer insisted.
Talker sighed, somewhat disappointed. "What would make it official in your eyes?"
"A letter, and you have to pay me," Singer demanded.
"Elaborate," Talker ordered, running thin on patience.
"It doesn't have to be fancy. You write English too, don't you? Or have your pad print it out. Something like, 'Singer is in charge until I get back,' would do nicely, and a silver dollar Ceres."
"A dollar?" Talker asked.
"It's pay. It's not the amount, it's the principle of the thing," Singer insisted.
Talker produced the right coin and flipped it through the air like he'd seen Fargoers do. Singer snatched it without any trouble.
"I'd send the letter to your com," Talker said. "You can print as many copies as you want. Frame one and hang it on the wall for all I care."
"Thank you," Singer said. "Have a good time if that's possible."
"Thank you, doesn't cut it either," Talker warned him.
"What else?" Singer asked worried.
"Thanks are for favors," Talker said. "You can jolly well send me a receipt."
Chapter 20
Lee had to filter her messages a lot. Even interstellar messages were cheap enough, added to ship mail, that she got all sorts of commercial messages from Earth offering goods and services. Her income from the claims commission was sufficient to put her in the top tenth of a percent of all earners in the Solar System. She imagined most rich people experienced the same com flood. Most of them however had secretaries, sometimes layers of secretaries, to throttle the torrent down to a manageable trickle.
A couple dozen people had her private address. Of those using her public com code perhaps one in a hundred had merited passing their message on to her bank or attorney or some official of the Claims Commission to act on. Lately it had deteriorated until it was one in several hundred. She'd felt horrible at first to sort messages by key word and delete them unread. Now it didn't bother her at all.
Drone messages were a different matter. It cost a lot to send a drone relay between regular ship passages, and even a regularly scheduled drone to where ship traffic was sparse was dear. A special drone was usually something only governments used. People or businesses who could afford an ounce of gold to send a fast message didn't waste it on birthday greetings or offering you vacation rentals.
Fargone got more traffic than Derfhome, so a message header that indicated it went to Fargone by ship, and was then loaded to a jump drone after the ship sold its data dump, was not unusual.
Drones have higher acceleration than a manned ship and could make the jump to Derfhome even before the ship docked. However, to get such a drone message and addressed to her private com code really got Lee's attention.
* * *
Miss Anderson,
"I feel as your counselor in past Claims Commission matters, and monitoring ongoing bids and payments in relation to those claims, I should make you aware of the direction of public discourse in regard to your recently failed applications to the Commission. My partners agree and gave me leave to send this message.
"After a period of angry accusations and recriminations over the support various junior members of the Commission withheld, there has been a significant restructuring. Some of this has been public and some only supported by rumor. Being 'in the trade' as it were, due to our firm's specialization in composing and presenting claims, we have had a number of private communications from those within the power structure that one might characterize as leaks.
"Unfortunately some of these messages were contradictory, and a case could be made that either of two opposing leaks were believed to be true by our contacts. We see this as indicating things within the Commission are still unsettled.
"Those leaks of conflicting details aside, the following is clear.
"The Claims Commission has reformed its core group to North America, China, Japan, and a sub-group of Western European nations. Russia and India are newly supportive while their allies and dependant states have still excluded themselves.
"All this is subject to change, but we see this new core acting quickly to assert itself because the economy is already slipping into recession, as much from the psychology the denial of a huge claim triggered, as any real slowdown in trade.
"Please do not consider this a criticism, but the public way your association, with you as spox, rejected any further dealings with the Commission was seen as a challenge by the senior members, and served as a sore point to heighten the internal dissent. If you had just silently withdrawn without any public policy statements it is possible that in another year or so they would have approached you to indicate they could process the claims, although with significant restructuring since the vast scope of your claims would have overwhelmed the system. Bidding and development would have to be done in stages to avoid price collapses and absorbing more liquidity that the world banking system could supply.
"Be aware trends make us expect the Commission to try to assert authority again without any limitations or boundaries, to include your area of the heavens. I can't predict if these offers will be made in a conciliatory way or more aggressively.
"In either case, or even if events unfold in unanticipated directions, we remain your loyal servants, and stand ready to assist you in any way we can within Earth jurisdictions. We have retained all your claims data safe, and stand ready to resume processing it, if that should become your will again.
Moore, Harper, Goldberg and McPherson, Attorneys at Law
Copy: Gordon of Red Tree
Well crud . . . Lee hadn't expected things to happen this fast. She needed to move before the Earthies started issuing ultimatums or sending more show the flag visits to Derfhome. One ship was an irritant, but if they sent a fleet it would be a thinly veiled threat, and Lee doubted Gordon would be amused by that at all.
When they were at Red Tree Lee and Gordon usually sent each other a text messages of low priority. The other's pad would vibrate and it would get looked at when they had a chance to do so discretely. Very few of the clan members had access to private com, and displaying such a luxury could provoke jealousy, or worse make trouble for the Mothers because their people wanted the same thing. Besides the expense, the Mothers were certain a flood of pocket phones would lead to neglected duties and wasted time. Lee had to admit they might be right.
Today, given how McPherson alarmed her Lee went straight to a video call with a normal ring tone. Lee was ready to lift right now. When Gordon answered there was Derfhome's Robin egg blue sky behind him. At least that's what Earthies told her. She'd never seen a Robin's egg and photos were seldom calibrated to absolute reality.
"Gordon, how soon can the Sharp Claws leave for Earth?" Lee asked without any greetings or small talk.
"Two days maybe, three for sure. What has you so upset and in a hurry?"
"Read this letter Stanley sent us. You must not have read your mail," Lee decided.
"Indeed, I read my mail at my leisure. I am not its slave. I also run a search every three or four days with a filter to see who has sent me multiple messages on top of the other filters. If it's really important they will keep trying," Gordon assured her.
"I never thought to do that. I read mine every day," Lee frowned and thought about it. "What if it's really important?"
"What is that important?" Gordon asked. "Even if the Earthies declare war on us they can't get here in four days, and I doubt they'd politely send a drone ahead to inform us, more likely they would just appear in our skies uninvited."
"That's kind of what I'm worried about. Read the letter, please," Lee asked, more politely.
Gordon read it, and then by what his eyes did, Lee was pretty sure he went back to the top and read it through a second time.
"I just don't get the same sense of urgency you do," Gordon insisted. "Yes, they are getting reorganized and recovering from the little rebellion they had. But it's a huge bureaucratic organization. I think you can expect them to decide what to do and actually implement it in months, not days. I wouldn't rush to leave without normal crew or provisioning. I don't have people on notice for short recall."
Lee took a deep breath. "Whatever you consider a reasonable time," she allowed.
"Are you sure you don't want to come along?" Gordon asked someone off camera.
"I've had my fill of traveling for awhile," a familiar voice said.
That was interesting. Gordon was with the Third Mother, and they appeared to be at an outside snack bar that was for between meals and for socializing. It used to be shaded by trees, but since they were all killed in the war they'd put up a sort of pavilion.
"I'll ask them to try for a departure sometime on the third day from today," Gordon said. "It's a good exercise actually. I want see if there's anything important they can't have ready."
"It's short notice for Sally," Lee worried. "I hope she doesn't have a bunch of bank business she needs to wrap up."
"Sally would be the last person I'd worry about," Gordon said. "My impression was she is a very free spirit. I'd bet that if we called her at the bank right now and said we were on our way to pick her up she would walk out the door without as much as a toothbrush. She'd figure they will sell tooth brushes wherever she is going. I expect she has a house keeper, as old and busy as she is. She certainly could afford one."
"I'm looking forward to knowing Sally better," Lee said. "I think it will be beneficial."
"In what way?" Gordon asked.
"She's the oldest naturally aged Human I know. If I understand how that has formed her thinking maybe it will help me understand the people who are even older from life extension."
Gordon did that little combination head tilt and roll that was his gesture to concede a point. "Maybe it will, though one is a very small sample from which to draw conclusions."
"Well it's all I've got," Lee pointed out. "I was just starting to see some differences in the Fargoers who had life extension, but that was mostly physical signs of aging. Don't you think there will be personality changes too?"
"I'd actually hope so," Gordon said. "There's a pretty good fraction of the population that would benefit from an attitude adjustment. And then there's the other sorting factor."
"What's that?" Lee asked, not missing that his expression shifted to amused.
"If you are an unreformable fool, time will catch up to you and you'll die from doing something foolish. The surviving group should thus be improved."
"I like that about you," Lee said. "You're always optimistic."
* * *
"A two day recall? Do they think we are military?" Captain Frost complained.
"I had the distinct impression you thought we should be better than military. Not to mention this morning you were complaining about sitting on your butt with nothing to do," his XO Wong reminded him. Their relationship allowed such bluntness.
"Yes, yes, but that's me. I don't have a life planet-side. I can be ready to boost for jump in two hours," Frost claimed. "I don't even unpack my ship kit. But some of my people will be at less than optimum readiness on a two day call-up," Frost said.
"Hungover, dehydrated and sleep deprived," Wong said, "victims of too much fun to hear them tell it. I've never figured out how that's fun, but I seem to be in a minority that way. We won't have to fight our way out of the Derfhome system, so by the time we run to jump and enter another system they will be on the third round of sobriety pills and able to hold their eyes open for seconds at a time. At that stage I'm not sure they aren't more dangerous hungover than sober. Killing anything that makes the battle board flash at them and sound shrill alarms must seem the natural thing to do."
"I'll never know," Frost admitted. "Too much to drink just makes me go to sleep, and when I wake up I feel fine."
"I will keep your secret," Wong promised. "You must never brag on that to crew, because I can assure you it will cause any number of them to hate you deeply, especially if you are so unwise that you inform them of it in your normal cheery tone, while they are suffering."
"Thank you XO. That's your job to advise me."
* * *
"This gravity altering material . . . what was it supposed to have been if it had been mixed properly?" Musical asked.
"A high temperature superconductor," Born said. "It's the same elements, just in different proportions. It is a high temperature superconductor, though not nearly as good as what it was supposed to have been. If you are thinking of calculating the ratios of atoms in possible molecules, you should be aware a number of people have pursued that idea, and not found a single possible structure. In Human chemistry tech they count atoms in MOLES, which is related to what they call Avogadro's number if you want to do searches for their techniques."
"I wasn't thinking of trying to reproduce the effect in a new material," Musical said, "but superconductors are hardly a new technology. They are often difficult to fabricate. What are the chances there may have been other gravitationally anomalous materials produced that were never of a size or shape to demonstrate odd gravitational behavior? Or even just never handled or tested in a way that would make those properties obvious?"
"Yes," Born agreed, "but there are so many we probably couldn't check them all. Many would have been quickly discarded as failures. Some would have been simply steps along the way to a superior product, and nobody would have kept the old samples. It would cost a great deal to reproduce all those old materials that never panned out. That still leaves us hundreds of known materials to examine which are recent enough we might still get samples or they are available commercially."
"Fine, let's do another search, but for a start filter it to those materials using the same elements as your gravity plate alloy, or if there aren't many of those, expand it to those using one additional ingredient," Musical suggested. "If nothing shows up, perhaps Miss Anderson will fund some recreation of older materials that closely meet the criteria. I have little doubt she would spend the money if we could show her a promising path forward."
"I agree," Born said nodding enthusiastically, "but let's see what we can find using the spending authority we already have. If I may suggest, include New Japan in the search this time. I understand they have put more effort into superconductor research than the Earthies. Basic research on Earth has stagnated given the entrenchment of protected industries that new discoveries would only upset. I don't think New Japan followed that economic model."
Both their pads beeped at the same time and they laughed before they looked.
Born and Musical
I'll be going to Earth in approximately three days to conduct some negotiations for the Mothers of Red Tree. Please carry on with your research, and don't make the extraordinary effort to report your results to me while I'm so far away from Derfhome. I have no set date to return, but I'll contact you when we come back in-system and get up-to-date.
Lee Anderson
"Do you want to mention our new idea before she goes?" Born asked. "I'd rather not," he added quickly, so Musical would know where he stood.
"No, I agree," Musical said. "Let's wait and only mention it if we get some positive results."
* * *
"We can lift Tuesday, the day after tomorrow," Gordon promised. "The normal crew all responded, and we shouldn't have to make any emergency substitutions. There aren't any maintenance issues, and fuel and consumables are replenished as a matter of course just in case we want to leave quickly like this.
"I could have shaved a few hours off it by going with the base provisions always kept aboard, but I do know you appreciate a decent meal. Dried, canned, irradiated and frozen tends to get old fast."
"Everybody will appreciate that," Lee agreed. "You made sure they had some decent ham and butter pecan ice cream?"
"You know me too well," Gordon admitted.
"Do you know if Sally has any favorites she'd appreciate us stocking?" Lee asked.
"She took me to lunch at a place called Murphy's Coney Island BBQ and Authentic Korean Cuisine. I think she'll eat anything that doesn't eat her first," Gordon concluded. "Do you know what kimchi is?"
"Sounds like a martial art," Lee decided.
"No, but it could be weaponized. They make pickled cabbage, not with Earth peppers, but with Devil Horn peppers, and put it on hotdogs. I've had the strangest craving to go back and get them again," Gordon said.
"Maybe they will sell it take away," Lee suggested. "I'd try some."
"I didn't think of that. I'll call and see if they sell jars of it," Gordon decided.
"Earth peppers are OK too," Lee allowed. "I understand they think they are hot. I bet the Sharp Claws will have the ingredients for Devil Horn soup. I hope so at least."
"You are one of the few Humans I know who have eaten Devil Horns twice," Gordon said.
"Fresh produce is nice, but are we full up on X-head missiles?" Lee asked.
"Two in the tubes and four in the magazine," Gordon confirmed.
Lee just nodded, satisfied.
Now, why did she think of that?, Gordon wondered.
* * *
"I just got notice from Gordon that we'll lift Tuesday afternoon," Sally informed her colleague Goldilocks. "Let me show you my current business and hand over access to my files so you can handle them, or parcel them out if they're too much".
The Bank of Derfhome was an odd institution by Earth standards. It operated in a very loose environment. There weren't a lot of regulations, but the possibility any indiscretion could be addressed by a simple decree from any number of clan Mothers with no appeal possible made them very conservative.
Their clientele were mostly clans doing business as ranchers and agricultural producers, and a smaller number of individuals doing the same in trade zones or unclaimed areas. A very minor part of their business was from fishermen and artisans in the trade towns and the retail suppliers who serviced them.
Farming wasn't as heavily mechanized and automated as Earth, and the fishing industry had no huge mother ships. In many ways the Derf economy and industry resembled that of Earth a hundred years ago. The clan system kept the economy fragmented and very conservative. There was a strong tendency to use equipment and systems until they were worn and had their investment repaid, rather than update to more efficient systems quickly, since the Mothers usually had a surplus of labor to their needs.
"Here is my password," Sally told her. "Go to the folder Current Projects and it lists everything I'm working on at the moment. Each project has progress notes, and my take on the strengths and weaknesses of each deal, as well as what my hopes and intentions for the ultimate outcomes. If the personality of the customer is a concern there are notes on my appraisal of their conflicts or sensitive issues. I've cut down my work load quite a bit from say five years ago, so I'm not dumping all that much on you."
"You have eight deals being negotiated?" Goldilocks said. "I'm only working six right now."
"Yes, but you have a family and a life," Sally pointed out. "Work is my life right now. You can feel free to choose which to handle and spread the rest around."
"I'm surprised. Most of these things, like customer profiles I just keep in my head."
"I've been detailing everything like this for about a decade, Dear. When a Human gets past the eighty year mark, the chances that you that you won't wake up any morning really increase. I just couldn't take the chance I'd leave you a mess because I was too lazy to make a few notes."
"That's remarkably kind," Goldilocks complimented her.
"Everybody should do it," Sally said. "When I was younger I'd have said, 'You never know but you'll get run over by a bus.' Now the buses or taxis are so smart it would be hard to get one to run you over, even if you tried."
"You make me think we should make this bank policy," Goldilocks said, thoughtfully.
"Yes, but don't detail how thoroughly they must document things. Give possible examples to copy if they wish. But if you demand too much of people they don't see as immediately productive you'll get resistance and resentment," Sally said.
"And when you come back?" Goldilocks asked.
"Let's not worry about that until it happens," Sally said.
* * *
Heather and Jeff were cuddled in one corner of a big leather couch, real leather, an expensive perk of the royal household. Not from Earth, right next door, it was from a colony world where such things were dirt cheap. Their transport was cheap enough to not ruin the bargain, and they didn't have to worry about hidden spy devices, or worse. They probably wouldn't buy a couch assembled from Earth, just components they could inspect closely. If they x-rayed every section of frame and fastener, and treated the cushions and covering with electronic killing fields they might trust it. It was so much easier to buy from a small shop on an agricultural world outside Earth's political sphere.
There was music playing and the wall showed an environmental video of a world they claimed, beyond the reach of most Human drives. It was the second living world they'd found off in the Beyond that would take a couple years to reach with a conventional jump drive. It was a world of scattered oases on two large dry continents, so it was named Oasis. The video showed a balloon tree shedding its fruit. It looked like it was releasing soap bubbles.
The screen dinged and showed an icon in the corner. It wasn't intruding. They'd enjoyed the morning off to themselves to relax and enjoy each other's company uninterrupted. Heather had become much better about delegating duties and resisting the urge to micro-manage things around the clock. April wasn't there to share the morning, being off at the other living world they'd found, Haven. It was almost lunch time and the end of their morning or Heather wouldn't have set the screen back active.
"New data dump," Heather mentioned to Jeff. "Can we look at the headers?"
"It wouldn't ding if there wasn't some priority stuff. Look at it or you'll just fret."
"Thank you," Heather said, but she just ordered it to scroll slowly and didn't leave him yet.
The Threes' officers, agents, and spies were all were required to rate the importance and immediacy of their reports from one to ten. Anything less than a nine or ten could wait until after lunch, but they were getting an idea how busy their afternoon would be and a rough idea about what. One nine got sent to the System Bank, one merited a one word reply – "Yes."
Jeff stopped the scroll because one was unrated. That stood out more than a ten. The header said: "Derfhome researchers submit new wave of data searches on changed topics."
Jeff lifted an eyebrow. "Go ahead, I wonder about that too," Heather admitted. "Whoever wrote that header should get a bonus. It's quite succinct."
"They aren't asking about quantum phenomena now," Jeff said surprised. "They've moved on to super conductors, and they are concentrating on Japan mostly."
"Why would they do that?" Heather asked.
"Well Japan has been a bit ahead of everybody on superconductors . . ." and he looked off with that thousand meter stare he got sometimes, but it became more and more unhappy.
Heather just waited. She knew it was counterproductive to pump him now.
"And, my Mum's quantum fluid is superconducting." Jeff finished.
"Is that unusual?" Heather asked.
"More like inexplicable," Jeff said. "None of the current theories on superconductivity can adequately explain a liquid one. I'm just really upset about this."
"Because they're getting too close with this line of thought?"
"No! Upset with myself, because I should have thought to research this line of thought long ago. It seems obvious, in hindsight. I still have an advantage one way. It's a Derf and a Badger working for Lee. I'd bet they don't have any Japanese. English is exotic enough for them. They will only have easy access to papers translated to English, and the machine translations are still pretty horrible. My father gave me a huge gift in making me learn technical Japanese as a teen. I'll do the same sort of searches, but I can cast a wider net than they can," Jeff vowed.
"You know . . ." Heather said slowly and thoughtfully, "I'd search New Japan too. They seem to be ahead of Old Japan in weapons tech. They might be ahead in superconductivity."
Jeff looked alarmed anew at that. "I don't have anybody in New Japan to know if they are searching there too. I'm not even sure if Chen has any agents there. Do you have any way to find out if these two are requesting papers from New Japan?"
"I don't. I don't think even April has any contacts there," Heather said. "The only thing you might do is check to see if they publish a general report on how many inquiries in various areas they receive. If there is a sudden peak of inquiries about superconductivity I think you would be safe to assume it's Lee's guys. You could get Chen to start infiltrating there, but it would be awhile before you get any useful results."
"It's just impossible to have spies everywhere," Jeff said. "Even using April's method of only paying bonuses for information, but not keeping people on retainer. There are simply too many countries and too many planets to have agents everywhere. Intelligence is almost twenty percent of our expenses already."
Heather looked thoughtful.
"I can almost hear the gears whirring," Jeff accused. "What are you thinking?"
"If you're buying that much intelligence, surely you could resell some of it," Heather said.
"That will require new people too. It has to be checked not to be self-damaging foremost, matched to its market, rebundled, and the serial numbers filed off, but I think you are right. We could recoup some expenses. I'll direct Chen to make a plan to do that," Jeff conceded.
"After lunch," Heather insisted. Jeff could neglect himself over work.
"After lunch," Jeff agreed.
Heather said nothing further, keeping her own counsel, and being careful of her face for Jeff. Heather hadn't told him everything she was thinking. The progression they saw the Derfhome team following convinced her it was just a matter of time before they had to deal with them having just as good a drive as Central had.
* * *
"I've never lifted in a private shuttle," Sally noted from beside Lee. The acceleration was a moderate three Gs, so it wasn't that difficult to talk. Lee had briefly worried even that much would be a problem for the elderly lady, but she didn't seem bothered at all. Being rail thin might be a big help with that.
Lee had the crew chatter in one ear, turned low so she wasn't really following everything, but if their tone changed she'd know immediately. Talker hadn't been offended when she said she wanted to sit beside Sally. Ha-bob-bob-brie was aboard and she had no idea why, but it wasn't a good time to go ask Gordon.
"We took a commercial shuttle down at Fargone recently," Lee said. "It was much nicer, luxurious actually. They finish off the interior with panels and hid anything functional like cables and conduits. The seats were even softer, but that kind of put me off for some reason."
That seemed to amuse Sally. "The luxury is in having it at your beck and call. Also, it didn't pass my attention this is a combat shuttle. That's another sort of luxury. I assume it wasn't stripped out for civilian use?"
"No this is a captured shuttle. In fact it's still mildly radioactive. Not enough to worry about, even if you accumulate some hours in it, but still detectable. It not only came intact, with medium range missiles and auto-cannon, but we've upgraded some of the systems to Fargoer standards. The combat software and defensive missile systems are much better, almost up to New Japan standards. The missiles were all conventional and now we carry two with serious warheads that can deal with a real ship, if one is silly enough to come within range. Plain fusion weapons, not X-heads, but get one in close and they'll ruin your day."
"Or make it as the case may be," Sally said with a feral smile.
Gordon, on the other side of the aisle, was sitting with his seat set vertical, three G's not even inhibiting him from continuing to enjoy his mug of coffee. He was looking over, taking in their conversation and not trying to appear disinterested in it at all.
"The flight deck is modified to seat a Derf on one side now, just like where I'm sitting used to be two Human seats," Gordon explained. "The hatch had to be switched out for a bigger one, but the lock works for one Derf at a time."
"I had my doubts watching you," Sally admitted. "I thought you might need to be greased up to be forced through."
"I'll have you know, we tried it, and we can get a small Derf through the lock with a suit on," Gordon claimed.
"But what if you need to get a large Derf back out the lock with a suit on?" Sally asked.
"He goes last, and makes his own expedient opening," Gordon said, stroking the ax head sticking up from his belt by way of explanation.
"Believe it or not, I saw an old video of a Human doing the same thing," Sally remembered.
"With an ax?" Gordon wondered, interested.
"No, no. This was before I left Earth, some years ago, and it made the rounds of the net for awhile and then would reappear periodically when somebody would find it that hadn't seen it before. Supposedly some fool locked this Home fellow in a cabin as a holding cell and he took serious exception to it. He ripped the bunk rails out that were welded to the deck and made his own hatch in the bulkhead."
The acceleration finally made her pause to breathe a little extra.
"People argued over whether it was fake, because it opened with him snapping the chain on a pair of old fashioned hand cuffs. A lot of people didn't believe that was possible. A common belief expressed was it was just a propaganda film to depict the Spacers as super-human and dishearten the Earthies. When we're on the Moon I'll do a net search and show it to you. It should be easy to find in historic – videos – humor. It's a classic."
"Video? I want to meet this guy and recruit him," Gordon said.
Sally laughed. "It's been so long, he'd probably breach the bulkhead with his walker now."
Gordon and Lee thought the same thing and looked at each other knowingly across her. Neither wanted to ruin a light-hearted moment by harping on how much she was going to have to alter her assumptions about age and aging the same as they had.
Chapter 21
The XO made the extraordinary sacrifice of his tiny cabin for Sally. He bunked with crew and extra accommodations were created with temporary fixtures in the largest hold that had environmental service. Lee and Gordon shared space because they found it easy. Lee was surprised to find out Talker was sharing space with Ha-bob-bob-brie.
"Why is Ha-bob-bob-brie along?" Lee asked of Gordon when she saw the Hin.
Gordon very briefly flashed a look of embarrassment and then recovered, hiding it, but Lee knew him too well and saw it.
"He simply insisted he be allowed to come along," Gordon said, and then uncomfortably added, "for you."
"For me? Since when does Ha-bob-bob-brie insist on anything to you? He works for you," Lee reminded Gordon. "You could fire him for insubordination."
"I wouldn't have had the pleasure, he was prepared to quit if he couldn't come along as your body guard. He made it clear his rejection would be damaging far beyond such trivial matters as his employment. He said it would do damage between the Hinth and our races."
"I could have asked for Garrett to come and stand behind me," Lee said. "I bet the Mothers would have sent him, and he'd have been impressive in all that fancy ceremonial armor. Maybe I should have asked for him. It might have given me status and some pomp with these folks who like their royalty."
"Impressive yes, but I suspect Ha-b0b-bob-brie is faster and more lethal," Gordon said,
"The other Hinth think he's crazy," Lee reminded him. "I can't imagine he has any racial authority to be speaking for them. I'm amazed you are even admitting this. Why didn't you just tell me you decided I needed a bodyguard and assigned him?"
"I don't lie to you," Gordon objected.
"No, but if there is a choice of several truths you could pick the one that puts you in the most favorable light," Lee said.
"It's too complicated to play those sort of games," Gordon said. "That truth is so far off center it would feel deceptive to me. Yeah, I agreed and gave the order, but under duress, not of my own originality. You might find out. Ha-bob-bob-brie himself might say something. He may be crazy by Hinth standards but the Hinth do things differently than Derf or Humans. He said that for better or for worse once he 'removed the mask' with you and shared his name you became a concern of the Hinth."
"Oh sweet screaming little goddesses, I'm having trouble sorting that word out in three different languages," Lee complained.
Gordon cleared his throat and blinked. "On the whole, I'd say it's much better to be a concern of three races than suffer their mass indifference."
"You were such a concern to the Fargoers they kicked you out of their system," Lee reminded him. "You were notorious with them."
"I'm pretty sure you've escaped that sort of negative scrutiny," Gordon insisted. "Even there, my reputation with the Fargoers eventually worked to my benefit. If I weren't known to them I doubt they would have found reason to allow me to get Fargoer citizenship."
"Yeah," Lee agreed reluctantly, "I'm pretty sure there was some, 'Far better to have him on our side than not.' in their decision." Lee scowled thinking about something. "But why now? From what you are saying I've been a concern of the Hinth since we met Ha-bob-bob-brie in that Derfhome station bar. We had no idea when we walked out of there we'd ever see him again. The Hinth on the Moon did know me when I was running from Earth, and helped me. I never asked how they knew me. It seems kind of stupid now to have ignored that. But all the time we worked together in the Little Fleet he didn't try to stay near me. Why, all of a sudden, does he want to be my bodyguard?" Lee demanded.
Gordon didn't try to hide his embarrassment this time, he let it play on his face, even deliberately projected his chagrin. "He told me he had a dream."
"You have to be joking," Lee looked astonished.
"As I said, the Hinth are different. They take dreams very seriously. Probably because they claim to dream very infrequently."
"Did he describe this dream to you?" Lee asked. "I hate it when people go on and on about their dream like they really mean something."
Gordon looked thoughtful. "No, he didn't volunteer anything about it, and I suppose I didn't ask, because I have the same cultural assumption as you that it's simple superstition."
"Do you suddenly feel differently about it now?" Lee asked.
"No, but what does it hurt? You had security before. Maybe it's a good idea," Gordon said.
"But we'll be inside Central's security perimeter," Lee reminded him.
"So close to Earth that gives me small comfort. We had private security and I still got shot in the head visiting the Apollo site," Gordon stroked the top of his head thinking about it, although he never complained of any lingering problems.
"Very well," Lee agreed. "I actually like having Ha-bob-bob-brie around, so it's no burden."
* * *
There were two jump seats on the flight deck. Sally occupied one after expressing an interest in seeing how flight operations actually worked. Lee came along and occupied the other to watch Sally more than the flight crew. Nothing they did would be new to Lee, but if Sally had questions she could answer them instead of imposing on crew. To Lee's surprise Sally sat the entire shift alert and interested but silent. She took a couple bathroom breaks and went aft and brought a sandwich back once, but otherwise just observed.
The second day Lee saw no point in accompanying her. She had things to read and could be more comfortable in her cabin or mess. If Sally had no questions the first day why would she the second? When Sally joined her for breakfast the third morning, and lingered, it appeared curiosity had been sated, so Lee asked what she thought about how a star ship was flown.
"I had no idea how little crew spoke to each other. The second shift I sat through there was a two hour period nobody said a word. I rather imagined they'd talk about this and that to pass the time, but they sat staring at their screens. Nobody split their screen to read a book or watch a video. I don't think any of them listened to music. The only time anybody spoke to me was when Captain Frost very awkwardly said I was the oldest Human he's met and asked if he should try to limit unnecessary acceleration for my safety."
"What did you tell him?" Lee asked. She'd have liked to ask the same thing, but didn't.
"I told him I still hold a flyer license and pass the annual. I'm not delicate. The second system we entered had a system scan feed and they didn't put it on speaker. The XO reported no conflicting traffic or significant events off the scan. I could tell he routed it to a text display. He mentioned another ship was insystem on run to jump and would be gone before they were aware we entered.
"The captain ordered the fellow running coms to report we were passing through and their intended exit vector and time to jump. Then about five hours later the com watch reported the station should have just received their transit report. A few times somebody reported a systems check and when we'd made all our vector changes and were on a straight line to jump that was mentioned."
Sally scowled, but Lee had no idea why. It just sounded like a normal and uneventful transit. That was good.
"Why the exasperated look there at the end?" Lee asked, perplexed.
"I'd go nuts if I had to work like that!" Sally said. "How can you stand hours with nothing happening? At the bank I will go in my office and immerse myself in a project, but I get tired of it and get up and go out to the public area. Anybody that's not sequestered in their office I can chat with them a bit and have a cup of tea. Maybe go out to lunch somewhere or order something from our kitchen. Take a walk-in if I want for change of pace or just go out for a short walk if it's pleasant out. Even when I'm working at my screen I usually have some music playing. This was like torture by sensory deprivation!"
"Oh." Lee had to pause and switch gears mentally to explain it. It was rather like a fish being asked how they tolerated water. "It isn't always like that. When we were exploring sometimes there was a lot of chatter on the flight deck. Even extended conversation on the command channel between ships. Things were happening and there was a lot of discussion trying to figure things out. We didn't maintain military discipline. Gordon feels allowing some discussion is useful to tap more views when facing the unknown. But it's just impossible to have a lot of pointless chatter on the critical channels and be safe. The captain should never have to talk over somebody to issue a command. Gordon was actually pretty liberal about it, but if somebody kept telling stories or making wise cracks so there was always background noise he'd speak privately to them about it.
"When somebody starts talking on the command channel your brain should kick into gear and you should hear the first word and not have to wonder – What was he saying? – because three or four words in you realize he isn't just rambling on again about the supper last night or stuff about his last vacation he's been sharing. Now Captain Frost runs a very tight bridge pretty much like a military ship. I can't say that isn't appropriate, after all he is commanding an armed ship, and that's an awesome responsibility. Everybody I know, including Gordon, thinks Frost is an excellent commander, or Gordon wouldn't be sitting reading a book and sipping coffee trusting Frost to handle things.
"You've never been on the deck when things go bad and every word and every second count. Let me share a recording with you from when Gordon was leaving Fargone in the Retribution, while I was on Earth, to show you how it can go. Three different people urged me to watch this, unaware the others had shown it to me, and I understand the Fargoers use it and other material about Gordon for naval training. I'll fast forward through the silent parts so it goes faster, but watch the clock in the corner. I'll take me a second to find it, hang on."
Lee nodded in satisfaction shortly, and turned the pad to Sally, keying it. The view was from the front of the flight deck looking down, so the consoles didn't hide the crew.
"Entry radiation, near dead ahead, range indeterminate," a Derf said. It was Brownie, although Sally wouldn't know him.
"Fargone Control this is the USNA Deep Space Destroyer Phoenix inbound for Fargone orbit. May we have a traffic plot for the previous forty-eight hours please?"
Lee forwarded the first pause.
"Plot to follow," Fargone Control said. "Traffic advisory. You are head on with traffic for jump. Running parallel with separation, but anything under twenty thousand kilometers requires notification." Examine recent plot for details," Fargone Control instructed them.
Lee eliminated a shorter pause. She wouldn't bother again.
"Scan updated," Brownie said "Phoenix is six minutes ahead by the lag. They will be aware of us in three hundred seconds from – mark."
"Battle stations," Gordon said. "Missile crews at controls in four minutes. I don't care if you are in your skivvies with ketchup on your chin. Move it. We are doing business here and got hospitality in an armed ship. Nobody asked us to stand off, or put our weapons under seal. Let's not ruin it by shooting first. If there was a lurker in the Paradise system maybe we were never named to them. Straight station plot doesn't show our cross section or length, but it would say we are Derf. Think that will be enough to make him shoot?"
"Phoenix response visible in two hundred fifty seconds from – mark"
"Drone released after thirty second delay," Brownie said. "Not bad."
"Any chance of picking off the drone before it can jump?" Gordon asked.
"Not a chance in hell at this range," Thor assured him. "Don't waste the missile."
"Alternate jump paths for any other system?" Gordon asked.
"Ninety-eight percent jump probability for Survey System 2109 at two G within five minutes," Thor said. "Exponentially decreasing jump success after that. Near unity jump luck with extreme over run and bleed off excess velocity in target system."
"Change course for alternate and jump deep. Advise Fargone Control of emergency change com." Gordon ordered Brownie.
"Our burn takes us cross-ways to the Phoenix. They are burning directly away at about four G. That's about all they can do without time to prep for hard acceleration. Likely somebody will get hurt even at that level on short notice."
"I predict course change and weapons release, as soon as they hear our jump change," Thor reasoned. "They will see us escaping whatever ship or ships they are sending that drone."
"Hyper missiles two tubes, one conventional straight in to blind her. Delay the hypers with a dogleg course. Track the Phoenix, but shoot only on my word. Defensive controllers fire on your own discretion if you have targets," Gordon allowed.
"Phoenix maneuvering, two away," Thor said.
"Fire," Gordon ordered, then immediately. "Now fire four conventional in coast and sprint mode, aimed at the Phoenix's emergent point," Gordon said, "and hope the bastards come through soon to see why we don't emerge." Four faint sounds could be heard.
"No more fire from Phoenix," noted Thor.
"If she is like Twelve Palms she only carries six hypervelocity and two tubes. If two don't take us once it probably won't twice. They hate to shoot themselves empty," Gordon explained. "Beam weapons stand by for close in fire."
"Might as well try throwing shoes out the lock if the antis miss," Thor said.
"I'd order that too, if we could get them down there in time," Gordon said.
Four more mechanicals sounds punctuated the silence.
"One gone," Thor announced, about the inbound missiles.
>WHAM< A loud noise overloaded the pad speaker.
"Second missile detonated on fail fusing at extreme range," Thor said. "Jump in seven, six, five, four, three, two, one,"
"Damage control on way to shuttle hanger. Hanger was in vacuum. Pressure failure in storage. Pressure drop in corridor section by hanger. Pressure drop in the galley. Com and controls up. Crap, there were two cooks working prepping for dinner. We lost crew," Thor said.
"Did you get him?" Gordon asked.
"Damned if I know," Thor told him. "We jumped seconds before the critical action. He sure as hell holed us straight through. You know that fancy little shuttle we took off the Twelve Palms? Damage control says there's about enough of it left to fill a ship duffel."
Lee reached over and exited the video as it ended.
"Oh my. That had me holding my breath," Sally said. "Gordon sounds like he is ordering lunch instead of launching missiles and fighting for their lives."
"Yes, Gordon took out three ships in that engagement," Lee said. "The Fargoers were just incredulous he would think to inform Fargone Control he was changing his destination in the middle of a battle."
"Thank you, that gives me a lot more insight into Gordon," Sally said.
"On the whole, most crews would rather have a watch like the two you sat," Lee said, not sure Sally was getting what she was trying to teach her.
Sally smiled. "I did take your point, Dear, But I took several lessons away from it."
"Some other time I'll show you the recording of when a Centaur ship attacked us and the Caterpillars attempted to defend us," Lee offered. "If anything it's more exciting."
"Save it for now please," Sally said. "My heart rate isn't back to normal from this one."
* * *
The next morning Lee wanted to sit on the bridge again, and grabbed a coffee and three breakfast sandwiches from the mess to eat up there. Talker was there but just nodded hello to her. Sally was sitting separately, her head together with Ha-bob-bob-brie over a pad, speaking so earnestly Lee didn't want to interrupt them. The Hin hadn't tried to shadow her or ask to stay close on the Sharp Claws, which was a relief to Lee who thought he might want to assume the role of bodyguard right away. Apparently, irrationally or not, he still saw their own ship was a safe zone. The other Hin thought he was insane. By their culture being able to live as a singleton he was insane. Perhaps they were more correct than she realized given this stuff about dreams. But as she thought about it eating breakfast, she concluded, what did it matter? There were probably other Humans who would question her sanity since she deviated so far from the norms. If he didn't ask she'd order him along when they went to conference with the Centralists. Thinking about how The Three, as they were styled, lived and their history, a bodyguard should be a status accessory. Why not acquiesce and make a virtue of a necessity?
* * *
"Born, do you have a minute to help me with a visitor seeking information?" The Derf referred to by Humans as Bacon, spoke out of Born's screen. He was an official of the university. In a Human university he might be called a dean, but his role here went beyond that. Interdepartmental Coordinator would be as accurate a title. He wasn't about to blow him off, because Bacon sat in judgment over his utility to the university, and how worthy Born was of funding and less measurable aspects of status. Bacon, and his peers over each college, as well as the chief librarian worked together in committee, serving the function of a provost. In the Derf language he was a Leader, which was far too modest a title in translation to English.
"But of course. Do you want to send him over here, or should I come meet him in a private room?" Born asked. Bacon was entirely too busy to play at being a public information officer or search librarian. Born immediately suspected it was somebody of note or means who was imposing on the Leader. If Bacon wanted to hand them off to Born he was more complimented than offended. There were plenty of professors and non-teaching researchers who were kept far away from the public, because they would offend and alienate those who endowed the university or had influence with the Mothers and trade councils.
"No, he's in my office. Why don't you join us? I've sent for refreshments and we're comfortable. I've cancelled my afternoon appointments because his story and inquiry is interesting. I remembered you are doing research for the Red Tree Human and your English is excellent," he complimented Born. "If your associate on that project is there, feel free to bring him along. I understand Musical has had some practical experience with the matter in which this fellow is interested."
"I'll invite him. I'll walk over as soon as I post an absence message and close up," Born said.
The fact that Bacon remembered his Badger research partner by name, who wasn't even a university member or alumni, surprised Born. Until last week it wouldn't have offended him if Bacon had needed to consult a faculty list to make certain who he was.
Last week Bacon had asked him to come by his office and inquired about Lee Anderson's research project. Such outside funded projects were not forbidden. Indeed commercially sponsored projects were encouraged. But he still thought the Leader might tactfully inquire if he was able to carry his other duties and this new burden too. While he'd never outright forbid it, Bacon's disapproval would make most faculty drop a project or push it off onto some subordinate rather than risk Bacon's good will. Instead Bacon had asked if he needed an increased budget because a close relationship with the High Hopes Exploratory Association seemed desirable to him.
When he informed Bacon that Lee had given him an unlimited budget for off planet data searches it rendered him speechless. To his credit as a fund raiser Bacon hadn't asked how he planned to test the limits of her generosity. Such largesse was uncommon. He was pretty sure having a patron who supplied an unlimited budget for anything fixed him in Bacon's mind.
That visit was the first time he'd been invited to Bacon's office. Leaders lived on campus, and their office was a buffer between their private residence and the public. If he wished to keep someone at arm's length the university maintained all sorts of meeting rooms from cubicles for two up to conference rooms like a theatre. It hadn't offended him at all he wasn't invited to sit for his last brief visit. Now he was being invited back, and it sounded like they planned a luncheon, given the hour. This was definitely a step up, and couldn't hurt his career at all.
Born called Musical at his new diplomatic facility the Badgers shared with the Bill race, urging him to come. He suggested Musical get a cab, specifying priority service and meet him at the west entry to the campus. They could go around to the east side, since motor transport was excluded from the campus, and walk to Bacon's office. By taking the vehicle they would arrive near the time a walk across campus would have taken them if Musical had been with him today. He'd be happy to pay the fare.
Crime was very low, even more so on campus, but Born locked his facility. There were a few Derf who left the clans who never adapted. Petty crime was a problem that hadn't existed just a few decades ago. Somebody not bright enough to make a go of it in the trade zones might steal something so specialized it had no market, and would be impossible to sell, but stole it simply because it looked shiny and expensive.
Born was standing outside the entry pillars when Musical's cab pulled up.
"So who is this visitor your boss wants us to help?" Musical demanded when Born seated himself in the auto cab.
Born held up a single primary digit to wait, a gesture he'd picked up from Lee. It seemed each finger or combination had a different social message with only the fourth finger strangely ignored. He instructed the cab where to go so they could be rolling before engaging in conversation.
"He's not really my boss," Born insisted. "He's not my employer who could fire me."
Musical didn't say anything, but shaped his face differently, a form which Born suspected was skepticism in a Badger.
"Did you ask who this visitor is?" Musical inquired.
"If I asked too much detail Bacon might think I was trying to decide if I wanted to come deal with him or not. I'd hate to create that impression. I'm happy to help any way I can."
"Not because he's your boss or anything," Musical said with a carefully neutral tone.
"He honestly can't fire me," Born assured him again, "but he can make my life miserable and dead end my career."
"Mmmm . . . I guess by that standard Singer isn't my boss either," Musical mused.
"Let me pay the cab," Born offered, as they approached the east gate. He ignored Musical's last statement. Some things were just too dangerous to agree with.
The Hall of Nature was an old institution. It pre-dated Human contact and had various areas with special exhibits and museums. Its Biology section had some of the few samples of extinct Derfhome animals outside clan keep trophies. It had been added to and updated as far as space allowed without ruining the classic architecture. Now the section called Mechanics had associates like Born who couldn't be fit in the original hall, so they were housed in satellite buildings. Although the original was impressive, dramatic, and far too expensive to duplicate today, Born preferred his modern building. Mechanics included physics, but the expansion of the discipline into deeply theoretical studies such as particle physics and quantum phenomena would have required kicking all the other sciences out.
Instead the building retained the department heads and historical displays and the newer and expanded studies were located elsewhere. Deeply set into the earth and with stone walls made after the style of an old fortress it didn't need modern air conditioning to maintain a moderate environment. The room they entered off the public hallway was impressive enough, but it was just for the Leader's secretary and her scribe. Their desks sat on opposite sides facing each other, leaving the path to the inner door clear. She waved them through, forewarned to expect them. Her scribe looked up from his work, interested, but he didn't interact with them at all.
Bacon's office was cool with a ceiling a good four meters overhead, and a few short windows for light near the ceiling. Most things Bacon needed to read would be shown on a modern computer monitor he could adjust. A modern light fixture over his desk was turned up just enough at the moment to make it a pool of light in the gloomy room. There was a lounge of low upholstered furniture off to one side with tables and a buffet table against the wall behind them. A couple Derf sized chairs faced the desk, and behind the desk a wall held shelves of old fashioned bound books, both in the Derf and Human styles, the Human sort arranged vertically and the Derf stacked flat.
At first, Born thought something had happened to cause the mysterious visitor to leave early, then a small pale face looked from behind the chair back. It was a Human, and the shoulder high chair for a Derf was high-backed for him. He hadn't seen his legs dangling in the dark room, though his eyes were still adjusting when he came in. The man, a young man Born judged him to be, was more surprised than Born. However he was staring mouth dropped open in surprise at Musical not Born.
"Are you a Badger?" the Human asked, surprised and maybe a little excited.
"Yes, we got stuck with that label by the Humans," Musical admitted. "Looking at photos of the animal it's not a bad comparison. Badgers seem to receive decent press, I mean, we could have been tagged as rats or possums. Badgers seem to be regarded as whimsical and intelligent. The Derf have nothing similar to us, thus the Derf word for Badgers is . . .Badgers."
"What a treat! Not one in a million Humans has ever seen your race in the flesh. This is my first trip off Earth, well except for the Moon which isn't any big deal, it's like visiting your back yard, and here I get to see not only Derf that are uncommon enough, but a Badger!"
Musical did a shallow plié with a little bow like a ballet dancer for him. It wasn't any cultural thing, he was just cutting up over the Human's gushing enthusiasm.
Bacon stood, worried the Human would take offense if he understood it for a jest, and suggested they move over to the lounge where everyone could be seated, before Musical could do something else cute.
"This is Mr. Ambrose . . ."
"Doctor Ambrose," the Human interrupted.
"I neglected any titles because I'm sure Musical isn't familiar with the Earth system, and even Born might think you a physician," Bacon said. "Musical is the Badger, Born is the Derf." Bacon said, rather curtly.
That was apparently as much introduction as it Bacon was going to offer now. The terse manner was probably because he wasn't used to being rudely interrupted. Whether the Human could tell Bacon's brevity was a sign of irritation Born couldn't tell. The man's face betrayed no strong embarrassment, and he certainly didn't apologize. Normally when introducing colleagues Bacon would have said a little about each one's area of study and perhaps even offered a thumbnail history with their professional relationship to him.
A staff member came in and put a coffee service on the table. Bacon made a subtle gesture to him with a cutting motion of one hand. The server twitched slightly in surprise, but made a single short nod. Born suspected that meant their luncheon was cancelled.
"Is your area of study in quantum phenomena such as I do?" Born asked after an awkward silence, which neither Bacon nor Ambrose seemed inclined to end.
"No, I'm an astronomer. Bacon called you to help me because he said you are working with Miss Anderson of the High Hopes Exploratory Association. It seems I timed my visit very badly. I'd hoped to inquire of that association and all the principal directors just left for Earth. We crossed over actually," Ambrose said with a wry expression. Born had just recently learned to recognize that subtle twisted smile as a contrary expression of chagrin in Humans.
"And you ended up here, how?" Born inquired.
"Well, the gentleman I came to investigate is an academic," Ambrose said, "so when the directors of the Exploratory Association proved unavailable to find him it seemed natural to seek help at the largest and oldest Derf institute of learning that just happily happened to be close at hand. Bacon seemed to be the dean of the College of Sciences as close as I could tell by auto-translation. I'm trying to find a fellow named Ernie Goddard. He submitted several papers to The Fargone Journal of Astrophysics that are quite interesting. He had a unique opportunity to make observations across an unusually long span of light years. He proposed a number of mechanisms in the formation of brown dwarfs by super nova events. It will likely be some time before others are in a position to peer review his theories by direct observation."
"But you're from Earth," Born noted. "Do you subscribe to the Fargone Journal? Is this an area of particular interest to you?"
"The University of Toronto is the home of the Trans-Solar Journal of Astrophysics," Ambrose said. "It's an open journal subsidized by the university. They do subscribe to the Fargone journal and we get summaries of several other related Fargone open journals. We did inquire about Mr. Goddard and they replied the paper was submitted from Derfhome and they had no personal information about him. They indicated Mr. Goddard made a submission by ship mail and a rather generous contribution to help cover publication costs. They don't require that but welcomed it. It took a month to get that reply, so it seemed best to come make a direct inquiry when a back and forth by ship mail could drag on quite a long time. The expenses would end up a significant fraction of just sending someone. I was also currently available and willing to come right now."
"Are you an editor of the Solar Journal then?" Born asked.
"Oh my goodness, no." Ambrose did manage to look embarrassed at that. "I'm not nearly far enough along in my career to have such a prestigious position. I'm simply an adjunct instructor of Introductory Astronomy at Toronto. They follow a traditional calendar and I wasn't scheduled to teach for three months in our summer, so I was available to come. In fact I probably would have had to claim negative tax income to get by, which really looks bad on your record. Fortunately, I recently became engaged to the daughter of my dean, who is an editor of the Trans-Solar Journal of Astrophysics. My fiancé asked her father to find something for me. He very kindly found this assignment to keep me busy and employed. I've always wanted a trip outside our Solar System too. It will be the Fall semester when I get back and I'll be back teaching again."
Bacon and Born exchanged a glance. Bacon seemed subtly amused. Born could guess why. When a clan Mother didn't approve of a declared intent to marry they often found an urgent necessity to send one of the happy couple off to trade town work. Romance, like air, abhors a vacuum, and a void is often filled by another partner, or such a removal affords one time for contemplation, uninfluenced by the other's hormone stirring presence. Born had to wonder if Ambrose was naive and didn't appreciate the risk of having neither fiancé nor post upon his return to Toronto?
"Our university lacks entire departments some larger institutions have. Or several areas of study may be consolidated under one school. We don't really have a course in astrophysics," Born explained to the Human.
"I assume you checked the composite list of all papers on our local net?" Born asked Bacon.
"Yes, "A Wave-front Compression Model of Brown Dwarf Formation" was not listed. I did a partial title search just to be sure. There was nothing," Bacon said.
"I know the fellow who approves and archives papers for Astronomy," Born said. "He's the sort who feels no urgency to file something if he's continuing a dialog with the author. Let's inquire and see if perhaps he has something pending by that name."
Bacon waved at the large wall screen by way of permission to Born to do such a search.
His pad address book had a work contact for the fellow he had in mind and he was soon had a video call connected.
The Derf answered his own com. He was a grizzled old fellow, gone to full white all over the muzzle and ear tips. He had to be a hundred and twenty if not thirty. His eyes were sharp and his head erect however. He started to greet them in Derf and then seeing Ambrose switched to English. "What can I do for you boys?" Given his age it was no insult.
"Flavious, are you by any chance processing a paper on brown dwarf formation by Ernie Goddard?" Born inquired.
"Ah yes, Earnest Goddard," he corrected. "Informality is all well and good for musicians and air car racers, but higher education should maintain some veneer of formality. It's a marvelous paper," he said, despite the fuss over names. "He draws some very interesting extensions of his ideas for us without falling into the error of stating them as facts."
"But you haven't posted it as published?" Bacon asked.
"No, it had several typos, a sentence that wasn't at all clear, and a phrase with a common homonym I suspect is a joke. I'd really like to discourage him from doing that. It not only lacks somber scholarly tone, but in a hundred years it may be puzzling to a new generation with different usage. It doesn't even translate directly to Derf. I generally hold off from publishing until I can resolve any issues with the author. I've published with editor's notes before but I find it upsets people. I'm willing to let him speak for the co-author too since he isn't available."
"There's a co-author?" Born said. "Does anyone know anything about him?"
Ambrose and Bacon both shook their heads no.
"He is John Burris, who is obviously a shipmate," Flavious said. "He hasn't been co-author on any of Goddard's' other papers in the University net."
"He has other astrophysics papers of which I wasn't aware?" Ambrose said, distressed.
"No, he has papers with co-authors that deal with planetary formation, xeno-archeology of alien mega-artifacts, and a number of lesser reports. Though I have to admit they tend to the economy of touching on several fields in one paper instead of breaking them up."
"So, the man isn't actually an astrophysicist?" Ambrose demanded. He seemed upset.
"Formally educated as one? Not to my knowledge," Flavious agreed. "But then neither was he schooled in archeology or planetary formation." Flavious seemed amused at Ambrose and Born hoped the Human couldn't read that, but then Flavious went ahead and made it obvious with his next observation.
"He seems to have been too busy schooling us to have sat at anyone's knee himself."
"We would never publish dabbling dilettantes and amateurs," Ambrose said. "That opens your journal to ridicule. My people would as soon publish scholarly papers from an engineer."
Born had never seen that expression on Musical. The dipped eyelids, dimpled muzzle and tips of the incisors just showing didn't look friendly however. He's been taking it all in but silently. Born held his breath, hoping that held.
Bacon rose quickly, thrusting a true hand out for Ambrose to shake. "I'm so sorry you had such a long trip for what turned out to be a dead-end." When Ambrose took his true hand, Bacon gave it a couple short pumps, and then without letting go pulled him to his feet. Born and Musical, Flavious even, still on com, watched in wonder as Bacon walked him to the door, hand still clasped in a true hand and his heavier lower arm around the man's shoulders propelling him irresistibly.
Bacon massed over half a ton, so Ambrose was going wherever he walked him. He kept up a constant babble of nonsense about how he commiserated with his wasted time and trip, never giving the man a chance to speak. At the door he handed him off to his secretary and closed the door before the man could even turn around to protest. Born heard the lock bolt slide home too, just in case the idiot tried to come back in the room to protest. It wasn't quite a bum's rush.
Born's housekeeper appeared at the door from his quarters, looking amused but expectant.
"Now, we'll have some lunch, Norman," Bacon instructed. Norman nodded, smiling. He obviously anticipated that.
The tables turned out to be built to rise to a comfortable height for dining, and Norman came back with a cart to load the side board.
"Serve yourselves. I prefer a casual meal over a stuffy formal one with everything appearing over your shoulder. Everything is safe for you," Bacon assured Musical.
"Thank you for your restraint when Mr. Ambrose insulted your profession," Bacon told Musical.
"Doctor Ambrose," Musical said haughtily. They all cracked up laughing.
"That's as much humor as I can take for a day," Flavious said from the screen and signed off, but he was smiling when he did so. They'd quite forgotten about him.
"I wouldn't have wanted to dissuade him," Musical explained. "When we came here from Far Away, Gordon the Fleet Master encouraged us to make a side trip, outside the cone of ownership ceded to the Little Fleet. We used Ernie Goddard's charts based on his theories to locate a brown dwarf system worth trillions of your dollars. Why should I encourage that jackass to take a second look at such a powerful tool? I'm happy to keep it for ourselves, the Derf, and much more reasonable Humans like Miss Anderson and the Fargoers.
"I'll drink to that," Bacon said. "I recommend the dark beer in the short thicker bottle."
They all relaxed and ate for a moment.
"If you do find some answers for your patron Miss Anderson," Bacon said told the two of them. "I stand ready to make the College of Practical Applications, the Engineers in plain English, available to design and fabricate such mechanisms as needed to test your theories."
Born looked a question at Musical and got no objection.
"We'll certainly make that kind offer to her when she returns from the Earth system."
Bacon nodded, satisfied.
Chapter 22
"I've been thinking," Lee said. The phrase was becoming a mannerism as an opener.
"Oh dear, not again," Gordon said, and laughed at his own joke.
They were both back at the flight deck jump seats now as they got closer to Earth, and critical things might happen.
Lee ignored Gordon's humor. "I disliked having a picket ship go ahead of us into the Sol system last visit and basically get us permission to enter," Lee said. "We are known to Central now and I'd rather speak to them directly and not have anything to do with the Claims Commission. It smells too much of them acting like system police. It's a bit of an overreach and I frankly don't understand why Central puts up with it. The Commission separated themselves from having anything to do with us by refusing to administer our claims. I'd rather not even speak to them, but if we have to announce to system scan on entry then let's simply tell them what we are going to do, not meekly ask permission. I feel we don't have any business with them now, so why should they interrogate us?"
"You may be borrowing trouble," Gordon warned. "They said they had to follow orders and run to jump because we had an alien ship with us. Maybe they'll say, 'Hello, we know you.' And wave as we pass through this time."
"Maybe. When we left they weren't overtly hostile, but it sure didn't feel friendly either," Lee insisted. "I suspect the Commission may tag us as a possible hazard."
"North America certainly might. And they are the tail nation that wags the commission dog. I'm not so sure of the others. And if we enter the Sol system unannounced, and then Central refuses you the same landing rights they extended before?" Gordon asked.
"Then we'll blast through and jump out the other side on whatever vector is an easy jump to another system without a lot of military presence. Nobody is going to intercept us if we don't slow down. Especially if we come in hot. And we'll know we're not as well regarded as I thought. But I really don't expect that. How hard would it be to get ahead of their picket? Keeping in mind we don't want to kill Sally."
"Not very hard at all," Gordon said. "The Indians ran for jump as soon as our wave-front hit them, last time, and still felt compelled to pull three G to be sure of beating us out. Assuming they told the truth about jumping before our reply could reach them. That was with us doing a normal entry. If we jump deep, delay announcing ourselves until they inquire, and boost out hard we'd beat them to jump unless they are a courier already starting their run. I can do that and never pull over two G. But they might think we are a military strike.
"There is an unfortunate history with the Sharp Claws, isn't there?" Lee said, and sat silent thinking about it. "On the other hand, that makes it even more worth doing."
"It does? You may not be aware of it, but the Earth powers have had a long custom of continually testing each other. They approach each other's territory and see how close they can get before the other is forced to respond. They crowd each other on the oceans and in the air. So much so they sometimes make a mistake and ram the other fellow. It seems a very dangerous game for us to start playing. Look up on your pad 'playing chicken' please."
Lee frowned and searched their web fraction. Gordon couldn't see the screen but he hear the sound of roaring engines and then just as Lee's eyebrows went up a horrendous crash. She happened to pick a good example and Gordon had to smile.
"We wouldn't do it that way," Lee insisted. "They won't know we are coming to line up nose to nose like that. It's not a valid comparison. It's good they know we can still enter their system without any advance warning. I think their sending ships to Derfhome says some of them haven't learned anything. It's time to make them think again."
"The ones who think probably don't need the lesson," Gordon insisted. But he sat and considered that, and his eyes narrowed. "But you're right, they are apparently not the commanders or are in a minority, or they wouldn't be trying to intimidate the Derf with ship visits. Let's talk to Frost. I'm inclined to do it."
"Certainly," Frost agreed after consulting the computer. "We can do that within our performance envelope. We'd emerge well inside Jupiter's orbit and have to swing close around the Sun and do a chasing intercept on the Earth-Moon system."
"And if we are waved off and have to go through and jump out?" Gordon asked.
"We'd have a choice of three targets the other side with minimal vector change," Frost said. Putting the routing on the screen for them, "but we'd need to fuel there or risk being stranded after all these extreme maneuvers."
"What are the three targets?" Lee asked.
"Survey systems 3, 8, and 22. Number 3 is of interest to scientists mostly. It's a low metal, low body density system. It has no economic importance. But the two gas giants have open mining rights. System 8 is a mining system with fuel claims and moderate traffic. It has no planet that is worth using the surface, so it has a couple stations with moderate populations to support the mining. The last one is a former French colony world that has fairly good relations now, after being estranged from the mother nation for awhile, because they didn't want them to self govern.
"It's the most ambitious Terraforming project anybody has undertaken. The system and the planet were named Opportunity, and it's still pretty much a future opportunity. They will be dropping ice on the planet for another hundred years before they can start thinking about introducing organisms. The charter for the place requires a set percentage of the mining income from the system be used to maintain the snowball bombardment."
"But there is a pretty good sized population?" Lee asked.
"About five thousand in a dozen habitats and a number of smaller ones," Frost said. "The system grew early, before there were any other living worlds found or worlds that looked like they could be Terraformed much easier."
"Then why didn't they move on once better places were found?" Gordon wondered.
"After you'd spent everything you had to built the habitat you're living in?" Frost asked. "And the system is still viable for mining? I can see why they stopped getting new people when there were better opportunities, but the ones already invested there wouldn't abandon everything to go off elsewhere and start from scratch. And the other discoveries eclipsed them after they had a second generation started here. I imagine it was home to them by then. That's a powerful factor. Even if the Terraforming doesn't pan out they are just one jump from Earth. All it would take would be one big discovery beyond them to get an influx of newcomers and increased traffic running through."
"Like being an Earth town back when they were building railroads," Gordon said, nodding. "That could make a town. The expression then was to put it on the map."
"I have to read more history for stuff like that. But about the target, I think we should set it as our alternative," Lee said.
"Why?" Frost asked, genuinely puzzled, not insubordinate. "We'll have to buy fuel there."
"Witnesses," Lee insisted. "If anybody would follow us and give us a hard time for making a passage of the Solar System it would likely be North America or China. If they get aggressive with us we want to have it documented we didn't initiate it. The people at Survey System 22 aren't subject to anybody likely to follow us. If we show up, and want to buy fuel, anybody coming to chase after us will be interfering with local business. By the time they can assemble a force and pursuit we'd be at a local facility being fueled. It would be very awkward to make threats while we are sitting hooked to local infrastructure. Well worth the cost to fuel up."
"Do you think public opinion on Earth would be swayed by that?" Frost asked.
"I'm not at all sure the public on Earth would ever be permitted to know about it. But it's the public opinion on Derfhome and Fargone I worry about more," Lee explained.
"Add New Japan and our new allies to that list," Gordon said. "We don't want a reputation as aggressors. But consider we might get pursued very quickly if they happen to have a ship ready to boost after us."
"I don't think you have any idea of your reputation. They're scared of you. Look at how the Fargoers treated you, and they never even had to fight you," Lee reminded Gordon.
"If there's a military ship ready to depart, or early in their run so they could divert, they will just order them to pursue us. Doesn't matter what they think of the Sharp Claws or me."
"There are sort of technical difficulties that can plague a ship ordered to do something stupid," Frost said. "I've heard a few of them. Power feeds can be suddenly shorted by a screwdriver or something, mysteriously jarred loose in the cable gallery after the ship is years from being built. Environmental can suddenly have a leak vent all their reserve air. The less imaginative can apply a hammer or just shoot a vital piece of equipment."
Gordon looked at him hard. "Would you do that if I ordered you to do something stupid?"
"Certainly not, I'm not under military discipline, so I can tell you I quit, and go back to my cabin to pack my duffle. You can't put me up against a wall and shoot me. I mean, it might get very awkward for you if you did. I doubt the crew would consider it motivational."
"Fair enough," Gordon agreed. "I'd appreciate if you tell me something is stupid before you quit. If I'm stubborn and insist on my way then you can quit."
"Seems like a sound approach," Frost agreed.
* * *
It was almost three hours after emergence before they heard, "Unidentified vessel making a hot entry, please identify yourself." It would have been longer if the system station hadn't happened to be on their side of the system, and they entered unusually deep. The voice had a worried edge to it. That was to the good. The Sharp Claws came in deep and fast, pinged the path ahead of them hard with military grade radar at full power, and then a repeated a wider scan at full power to cover the local station in stellar orbit. They didn't slow down at all. By the time they were hailed they were near the halfway point of their transit and already vectoring for their exit.
"This is the Nation of Red Tree Destroyer Sharp Claws, Captain Frost speaking. We are on a diplomatic mission to the Kingdom of Central on the Moon. You might have expedited things by identifying yourself and your authority before asking the same of us. We are making a fast transit and do not anticipate coming anywhere near your traffic areas. Indeed if you want us to hear in time to make a second reply you better speak quickly, because we're exiting the other side under boost."
Two hours and a bit later the reply came. "This authority runs system scan from the local station for the Earth Claims Commission. We are charged with sending word ahead of vessels seeking Earth entry. Please decelerate to remain in this system until a picket vessel or drone can announce your intended arrival. Derf vessels are on the list to be stopped, identified, and have passage granted from Earth."
Gordon looked across from his jump seat and gave Lee sitting opposite a nod to acknowledge she was right. The Claims Commission did regard them as hostiles. The two of them were observing, but not interfering with Captain Frost or his crew.
"Negative, System 17 scan. We note you do not identify as traffic control. We do not see Survey System 17 listed as having a local government. Unless you have had one organized since our star chart was updated seventeen days ago this system is open for free passage. We have no business with the Claims Commission, and refuse to credit it as a sovereign government. We do not intend to enter the L1 zone upon entering the Sol system. Neither do we acknowledge their authority to demand a diplomatic vessel stop and beg passage anywhere. I am under orders from my nation to deliver my passengers to Central on the Moon. Any attempt to interfere with that will be met with lethal force. Your system picket, which we observed on radar leaving your station at four and a half G, cannot catch us before jump. If your command is crazy enough to endanger their crew to get within missile range of us, we will fire first. I should warn you that we have Fargone and New Japan weapons systems which outrange yours. It would be a tragically pointless sacrifice."
"What does the picket appear to be?" Gordon wondered.
Frost tapped something on his screen. "They probably would call it a frigate. But you could as easily call it a cutter. A few independent star systems keep one as a customs vessel. They are jump capable, but lack the ability to venture far from a supply base. They aren't radiating. They can see us of course. And they may be getting tight beam updates from the station. They will hear our warning before the station.
In another twenty minutes some lines changed on Frost's screen.
"It's too late for them to launch a drone now. They've missed that opportunity," Frost said.
"Might the frigate still launch one?" Lee asked Frost.
"For another half hour or so, but I've never known a ship that small to carry a jump drone."
"It would also have to follow us on a very close and converging vector to the same jump target. A drone could jump after us and overshoot us into the Sol system. One might mistake it for a missile launch," the XO, Wong suggested helpfully.
"You need to learn not to smile like that when you play space lawyer," Gordon told him, "but thank you for the suggestion. We'll let it go if they launch one. It makes us look guilty to kill it. At this point it won't give them enough forewarning to arrange much of a reception."
"Do we go ballistic on entry and refrain from braking until we have clearance to land or start braking as if we assume we'll get clearance?" Frost asked. "If they delay answering it will eat into our margins."
"We will act as if we expect clearance. There should be no hint we made plans to pass right through. You can moderate the early burn to save Delta V if you wish. We might have maintenance or medical issues to explain that. Let me speak to traffic control when we enter," Lee decided. "I have a personal relationship with April that may tip the balance on our landing clearance."
There were no further messages. The radar showed the picket vessel dropping its hard acceleration. That was likely a command decision rather than orders from the station given the lag between them now. They didn't release a drone or missile, though that would have been more an angry gesture than a danger.
"Jump in a minute," Frost announced with relief.
When the stars shifted slightly the one ahead was a bit closer than usual.
"As you requested," Frost said, with a go ahead gesture at Lee.
Lee cleared her throat, which wasn't her common mannerism and keyed her mic.
"Luna Control, this is the Nation of Red Tree Destroyer Sharp Claws on a diplomatic mission, head of mission Lee Anderson speaking. We request clearance for a Solar orbit trailing approach outside the L1 limit. We seem to have some speed to bleed off," she said, like it was a sudden surprise. "Also we request you relay a message to the Sovereign of Central or her Voice asking landing clearance at the Sovereign's field, and an appointment at her pleasure. Recent system scan would be appreciated. Proposed burn started and attached. Advise if safety adjustments are necessary."
"Nicely said. Not too pushy either," Gordon judged.
"How long for a response?" Lee asked.
"From the Moon? Sometime over three hours plus any delay while whoever is at Central decides what to do." Frost said.
"My impression of April was that she doesn't sit around wringing her hands, or need to consult with others," Lee said. "I'd be very shocked if the other two in that partnership are much different. It doesn't sound like they need to worry what most others think."
"Heh . . . The more I hear about these three, the more I think they sleep easy at night, and give others nightmares," Gordon said.
"Sort of like you and the Fargoers," Frost said to Gordon.
"Yes, but we solved that. I'm a Fargoer now. I think even the paranoids will finally admit we're on the same side and not a threat."
"Maybe I can craft a similar solution with Central," Lee said hopefully. "Not citizenship." She said quickly at Frost's worried look, "but some agreement where we aren't going to allow ourselves to become enemies, that we have similar values and goals, and can at least stay out of each other's way where we can't work together."
That seemed to satisfy Frost. He took his loyalty to his Mothers seriously.
It was too early for their entry call to have even reached the Moon, much less a response arrive, when the radio came alive on the traffic control frequency.
"Sharp Claws this is Ganymede Control. We were touched with your wave front a little earlier than Ceres so we are giving you this message that was prerecorded and held to be delivered on your arrival. You are cleared to land at Central's field, or the Sovereign's field at Armstrong if you wish access to the Republic while you are here. Lunar Control is instructed in advance to grant you priority passage. Please contact Lunar Control when you are approaching their nominal control volume. Central authorities will be advised the message was delivered."
On the Sharp Claws bridge they all looked at each other in shock, not sure what to say, but Captain Frost recovered first and questioned them.
"You mean Ceres would have delivered the message if we'd come in on a bit different vector? The message was pre-positioned all around? Do you have a date on that message?"
It was still a significant delay until Ganymede answered, and they sat thinking about the implications of their arrival being anticipated.
"Yes this message was copied to all outer system traffic centers for open delivery to Lee Anderson or any Nation of Red Tree vessel seeking a Central landing. It was propagated thirty two days ago, and had no date to expire."
They looked at each other all around.
"I feel like I'm playing out of my league here," Gordon said. "I very much dislike thinking I'm predictable.
"That's because nobody else has been able to do it before. Be glad they still seem friendly," Lee said, "because I'd sure hate for them to be hostile and that far ahead of me. They were expecting us to arrive before I decided to leave." That seemed to rattle her.
"Do they have a time machine?" Frost asked. He didn't seem to be joking.
"I refuse to believe that," Gordon said. "They just have better information than we do."
"Much better information," Lee agreed. "And all that planning what to do if we were denied landing clearance was wasted effort."
"Never," Frost objected, shaking his head. "Preplanning for every scenario you can imagine is the lifeblood of operations. Nobody, not even Gordon, can just wing it real time. You have to just sit and imagine variation after variation to react as seamlessly as you do," He looked hard at Gordon like he expected him to challenge that.
Gordon seemed surprised. "Well, I never had anybody ask how I do it, but you seem to have figured out most of it on your own. We have so many hours with absolutely nothing happening on the bridge. You have to think about something or go crazy. It might as well be something useful, playing endless 'what ifs' in your head. So, do you do the same thing?"
"I can't get inside your head to know for sure. It might be qualitative, like when John Burris drives Ernie Goddard nuts by telling him some new idea is obvious. It isn't obvious to him no matter how smart Goddard is because they simply think in different patterns. But with you I suspect it's more quantitative," Frost said, pointing at his own head, "because your processors just examine more possibilities than mine can in the same time."
"Sally complained to me how terribly boring it is watching the bridge operate," Lee said. "Little does she suspect that Gordon would have fought a hundred battles, and made a dozen landings in his head, while she was slowly dying because nothing was happening."
"But she must be thinking about something," Gordon objected. "It's just impossible to sit and not think about anything. There's no off switch. It's like being told, 'Don't picture a yellow monkey,' then that's all you can think about trying to not think about it."
"Sadly, I'm sorry to tell you that you're wrong," Frost said. "A great many people, Derf and Humans too, can easily sit and think about absolutely nothing at all. In fact it's a danger. They can get in such a null state that when something does happen it takes them a long time to rouse from their reverie and get the brain in gear to respond, if they're still alive to do so."
Gordon looked unbelieving, and then glanced askance at Lee.
"Yeah, he's got the right of it. It's that bad," Lee assured Gordon.
"That doesn't make me feel superior at all," Gordon confessed. "It just scares me."
What could you say to that?
"You might as well file an altered seven tenths G approach," Gordon decided. "That will stretch our approach to two full days, and we can adjust to their clock. No reason now to be uncomfortable and it's easy on Sally. But don't tell her I said that."
"No, she'd want to wrestle you two falls out of three to redeem her honor," Lee said.
* * *
"Central or Armstrong field?" Frost asked them before he spoke to Luna Control. "Orbit and use our shuttle, or take the Sharp Claws down?"
"Central," Lee said, with no hesitation. "We've never been there. I doubt many outsiders get invited to see the field, and I have no desire to give the Claims Commission guards at the Armstrong field another opportunity to hassle us. We don't have a Central escort to put the fear in them this time. Besides, what would we do in Armstrong? Go shopping? Are you comfortable landing her?"
"In Lunar gravity? Yeah, no problem," Frost said. "It's easy enough to get around and access everything in the Sharp Claws at a sixth G, even though she's designed for zero G operations. On a heavy planet it would be awkward, but why separate some of our people, off in a shuttle, if we don't need to?"
"That's sound tactics," Gordon agreed. "I suspect their private field is very secure."
Lunar Control cleared them to orbit, but said, "Landing clearance assured for Central field," That was different and oddly phrased but clear. "Switch to field com on 872. You are now out of our control," they were informed.
Frost pecked at his screen with a digit to switch to the non-standard frequency.
"Nation of Red Tree vessel, Sharp Claws, requesting landing instructions," He said.
"Sharp Claws, Central Control here." It was an unusually deep female voice with an accent Lee had never heard before. "The Luna Positioning System uses normal GPS standards. I'm sending your pad coordinates to your screen, and a standard landing beacon is also active if you wish to do an automated landing. You are directed to pad number eight. We are in lunar night but strong earth glow. The pad will be illuminated along the edge and marked with an 8 if you wish to do a visual landing. There is no other traffic, land at your convenience."
"Thank you Central Control. We are descending on your automated beacon."
The autopilot briefly bumped them up past the seven tenths G they'd been maintaining and then started dropping. The gentle deceleration allowed them to hang an arm out with a camera to view their decent. There was an indistinct blur of light coming up. When they rotated to a more vertical approach the blur resolved to a glowing blue square. The was a large 8, also in bright blue, in the middle of the square. There weren't any buildings or surface features to be seen. As they got very close they could see the faint outlines of neighboring squares, and a road running between them. The blue finally resolved into individual lights at only a couple hundred meters altitude. The autopilot dropped them with much smoother throttle control than any pilot could achieve. When they touched the ship barely compressed the landing jack shocks, and they felt the slightest rebound.
"And we're down," Frost said. Lee wasn't sure if that was to them or the still open mic. Frost touched the screen a few places and switched to a side view camera.
"The landing pad is bigger than I expected," Frost said. "It looks to be somewhere around eighty meters on a side." Beyond the pad lights, the Lunar surface was the grey of regolith in the very faint Earth shine. The marble of the mostly sun lit planet was hanging there in the camera view. The scene was enhanced because the camera boosted its sensitivity for the dark scene.
"Please do not exit immediately," the same rich voice requested nicely.
There was a slight shudder and outside a black band appeared around the entire square and started climbing. They all looked at it, not understanding. Then it hit Lee.
"Oh m' God, it's an elevator. We're seeing the shaft wall rise around us."
"I thought they built little ships. What do they need with an elevator eighty meters square? And we're a hundred and twenty eight meters long, plus some for the landing jacks. Their hanger will clear us?" Gordon worried.
The opening overhead disappeared from their camera view. After they were still dropping after a couple minutes Captain Frost activated a camera looking forward from the nose. The opening was still visible as a small square of star studded black framed in utter black.
When Frost turned on a side flood they could see faint patterns in the elevator shaft walls. Also a gear rack on side of the platform corners. A recessed slot looked to have both finer pitch racks for a man elevator and an old fashioned access ladder with flat rungs standing off the slot wall with stanchions every meter or so.
Frost tapped his screen. "We've been dropping over six minutes. How deep do you think we'll go?"
"It looked to me like we were dropping a couple meters a second," Lee said. "Check the LGS log. It should have got a reading for how fast we were descending before we dropped out of sight of the satellites."
Frost nodded. "Yep, a very smooth ramp up and then a steady 3.2 meters per second."
After a few more minutes they watch an opening into an artificial cavern slide into view. "Call it a kilometer and a half to the floor level coming up." Frost estimated. The hanger was illuminated by indirect floods on the walls. The floor was clear for a couple hundred meters straight back, but ships were set back slightly in separate alcoves, three to each side with the overhead forming huge ribs between the bays. Only two to the right, and one to the left, being occupied.
"Did I say their field would be secure?" Gordon asked. "I had no idea."
They slowed, but still the platform on which they sat dropped past the hanger floor. Lee thought they were going to go deeper, but then it stopped and rose slowly. When it matched edge to edge from below there was a deep clunk of latches engaging.
"How interesting," the XO Wong remarked. "They don't trust the active system to hold us. When they stop it engages positive latches."
"Probably big servo motors, engaging those racks in each corner," Frost speculated. "Simple and direct, but they still don't trust it."
"If they don't want it plunging down the shaft, how deep does it go?" Lee asked.
"I'm betting this is just a sort of ready room," Gordon guessed. "Where you park when you're just making a brief visit and don't want to put it in long-term deep storage."
"So the really secure hanger is below, who knows how deep?" Lee speculated.
They slowly slid off the platform, down the middle of the hanger. There were no rails visible but the stage they were on went straight and felt solid.
"Look at those two!" Lee said. The ships on their right were a real contrast. One was tiny, barely seven meters long and so slim it might not allow side by side seating. The other was squat in form, but towered above them. There was activity around it. It had a winged shuttle clinging to its side bigger than the other tiny ship. The landing jacks were massive with large flat end shoes, and articulated so they could be folded in closer at present, the knees folded up to tuck the end pads within the square like the one they were riding on. Towards the front, where the body started to taper in, were two knobby projections like frog eyes, with big black dots like pupils, obviously made to allow them to swivel.
"Those turrets on the big one . . . " Lee said, unwilling to voice her conclusions.
"Energy weapon mounts," Frost said, confidently.
"But the aperture must be over a meter," Lee objected. "New Japan Greasers top out at twenty millimeters and you have to divert full power to drive one."
"Uh huh," Frost agreed.
"Why are you smiling?" Lee asked Gordon.
"I was thinking of the Bunny planet we visited. They've been digging an artificial pass through that big mountain range for thousands of years, and still have thousands to go to get it down the level of the plains on each side. I bet one of those suckers could cut it down for them in a couple days. Just orbit and lay a beam end to end each pass."
"Probably," Frost agreed. "However the rock dust plume condensing downwind would devastate the eastern portion of the continent. It would be like a volcanic eruption. And it might throw dust high enough in the atmosphere to cool the climate for years." He looked thoughtful. "But it would make a spectacular video."
"Here we go, end parking spot," Lee said, as the creeping plate stopped and then moved sideways into the last alcove without turning.
The screen showed an icon for video received and Frost keyed an acceptance. The lady was the same who spoke before, her voice was unmistakable. Lee was fascinated with her appearance. She had on a long flowing dress, of gauzy material with elaborate printing, and a lot of jewelry that didn't look like it was the costume sort.
"My apologies, nobody anticipated a small problem we've encountered. Our system is not compatible with Earth Human lock standards. We can't extend a pressurized transfer tube and let you access public pressure directly from your vessel. An adaptor has been commissioned and a fabricating shop will have it created in a few hours, but at the moment you must either wait for that or wear one of your own pressure suits to transfer."
"That's no hardship," Gordon assured her. We'd have expected to do that at Armstrong."
"I'll send a cart then, which will bring you to a hospitality suite, when you feel ready to disembark. Just let me know on this channel."
"Give us ten or fifteen minutes. There will be five of us. The crew can stay aboard. We've had a long day on the flight deck, and will need to sleep before we're fit company," Gordon said. "We're pretty well synced to your day shift if I understand correctly. We did about a six hour shift to get on the same clock. Another night should see us feeling no disruption at all. I know we could take some medication, but I've never felt that is as effective as just adapting"
"Before you go!" Lee spoke up quickly, "Can you arrange a private audience with April or whoever is speaking for the Sovereign at the moment?"
"The Sovereign Heather is in residence at the moment. Allow me to ask her private secretary," the lady offered. The screen briefly switched to a hold screen view of a public shopping district from an elevated view. It was a sealed mall and Lee suspected it was in Armstrong. There were benches and planters down the middle as well as a couple small fountains. The only motorized transport visible was a few open carts, not much faster than the pedestrians. Then she was back.
"My Lady Dakota says tomorrow is promised as a day of open court and after breakfast Heather will dispense justice and anyone may meet and speak with her. If she will close court and speak with you privately she cannot promise, but it would not surprise her since Dakota remembers being ordered to issue the instructions for your convenient passage from out-system. Is that satisfactory?"
"Sounds interesting actually," Lee said. "What time does this start?"
"The doors always open at 900 sharp, and I was going to send you to a guest suite within walking distance. I am Facilitator Shashi Devi. If it pleases you I would come and walk you over in the morning."
"You aren't simply a traffic controller then?" Gordon asked.
"My Lady Heather tends to streamline processes. She'd rather give a limited number of people authority to wear any number of hats, and just get something done, than create an intricate bureaucracy with many detailed and separate powers and responsibilities. Landing at Central is largely an automated process for our own ships, but if need arises there are at least a half dozen people who can stop what they are doing and give a ship directions."
"May one ask what you stopped doing?" Gordon asked, grinning.
"Art, a hobby actually, I'm trying to gene engineer an alien tree for decorative effect, and teaching my young daughter the editing techniques at the same time. I'm afraid multitasking is a very hard habit to break," Shashi said, amused at herself.
"Do you know if it is permissible to give our crew liberty here?" Frost asked.
"That's permissible or you wouldn't have been allowed entry," Shashi said. "However, they may find shopping better at Armstrong, and also, if they want rowdier bars or a casino they should ask for transport to Armstrong. Central is rather sedate, and the Sovereign is not fond of gambling. I assume you will leave an officer of the day at watch?"
"Two actually, which means four others can have leave in shifts."
"Why don't you wait and make arrangements as soon as the docking collar is installed," Shashi suggested. "That will only be a couple hours."
Frost nodded agreement.
"If it is not offensive to ask, might you join us for breakfast earlier?" Lee asked. "I'd welcome a chance to chat with a native. I've learned a lot from you already."
"I don't see how that could ever be offensive," Shashi said. "Your guest suites offer in-room service. May I suggest you ask them to set a buffet? I'd like to bring my daughter along also. It would be good for her."
"Sure, bring her along. Say 700 or near that?" Lee suggested. "How old is your daughter?"
"Priya is eleven Earth years. Be warned, tact is one of the lessons with which we are currently struggling."
"That's OK, I'm not terribly socialized myself," Lee shot right back.
"Oh joy, until tomorrow morning then."
Ha-bob-bob-brie just nodded that deep fast nod that was almost a bow when Lee informed him they would be leaving in minutes. "I am packed," he said, like he'd expected her call. Maybe he had. They had after all allowed him to come, so why shouldn't he? He had a small bag like a woman's purse and a barely larger case on wheels.
* * *
Despite the radical hanger and exotic ships, the cart that pulled up to their ship wouldn't have turned an eye at any retirement community or golf course. Only the extended length with seating for eight instead of four was unusual. Some basic forms are difficult to improve. Attempted improvements have been tried before, beyond living memory, and there were reasons they failed. It had a Human driver rather than being automated, and he couldn't keep surprise off his face that he was picking up a mix of four races.
The cart didn't take them to pressure right away. They entered an elevator, much smaller than the one their ship rode on, but still big enough for much larger vehicles. It dropped a long way before it stopped. Lee thought it had to be several kilometers.
The ride was short once they were at depth, maybe a half kilometer down a long corridor from the hanger, a turn onto a larger tunnel with light traffic, then a turn off at an angle that let them off directly at doors to their rooms. Lee noticed the young man didn't open his faceplate and tip it back until they passed the second set of pressure doors. She approved.
They had very light bags, even Sally, who brought as much luggage as the rest of them combined, left most of it on the ship. So the driver didn't need to help them at their rooms. They set the door to their hands. It didn't escape Lee's notice that the house computer had no trouble accepting hand prints from four species.
The guest suites at Central itself were not as luxurious as the hotel suites they enjoyed at Armstrong their previous visit. They were still quite comfortable, and modern. It seemed to Lee the big difference was they made no attempt to impress. It made her think and wonder how they used those suites in Armstrong. For whom they might use them, besides themselves.
Not only was there no fancy garden, or theater, the rooms were laid out in boring rectangular shapes instead of high ceilings, arches and circles. It undoubtedly was more efficient and used common fixtures easier. Yet it didn't feel like a discount motor court. There was another entry to the other side of the suite which led to public areas and services.
The only thing Lee did before bed was check the com directory and post a message to room services for a breakfast buffet in the morning. Just in case they weren't used to serving Derf she suggested that they allow for three to four Human size servings for Gordon. Sally took the com desk after her like she intended to stay up awhile, but she hadn't tired herself on the bridge. The last thing Lee saw going in her room was Ha-bob-bob-brie. He was positioning himself where the door to public areas opened, blocking the way inside the closed entry. He'd sleep standing there, a living alarm.
Chapter 23
The room got bright slowly to ease you awake. Since Lee was adjusting from this time being noon to her body not so many days ago, it worked easily. The door was cracked open, Lee hated feeling sealed up when she wasn't on a ship. The smell of bacon and fresh bread finished rousing her and made her abandon the comfy bed. The clock on the corner of the com screen said it was only 6:27. She had plenty of time to clean up.
The shower seemed needlessly complex, with two levers and three buttons. Lee stood to the side not trusting it not to scald her. She needn't have worried, this wasn't negative tax housing on Earth, where a too-hot shower had sent her scampering out from under it. Spacers were obsessed with safety, and it was definitely a spacer culture here even if it wasn't a ship.
The lack of an instruction plaque initially irritated her, but it wasn't so hard once she experimented. The middle button activated it, the blue button made it cooler, and the red button made it hotter. It could be made uncomfortable to her taste at either extreme, but not hazardous. The one lever adjusted volume and the other made it go from a steady stream to pulsating at an increasing tempo. You could turn it off and leave your choices set, which was nice.
Setting it very warm, Lee increased the volume and pulsation, leaning against the wall with both hands and letting it beat on her face and run down her body. On second thought, maybe she should get one of these for her condo on Fargone, and a huge hot tub like the Derf kept.
"Have you drowned?" Gordon called from her door. "We have food, we have company, they may charge by the hour for that fancy thing."
Their guests were early then.
"More likely by the liter, allow me a few minutes more," Lee insisted. "This is much nicer than a Derf shower. It doesn't peel my skin off."
"Then it probably can't do a deep cleaning all the way through your fur," Gordon said.
"Not a problem for me," Lee yelled back, but suddenly realized their company could probably hear this exchange in the common room and cut that line of thought off. "Coming, as soon as I get dressed," she said instead. There was silence, so Gordon must have left, satisfied she was coming.
Lee threw on some canvas pants and a safari shirt. She didn't wear pistol or knife and just put spex on, leaving the pad in her room. The suite was warm and the carpet thick so she didn't bother with shoes, her only jewelry was her fish necklace she never took off.
When Lee went out everyone was around the table, and the buffet was set up on a roll in cart. It was early but it seemed petty to complain. It wasn't like they woke her up. She was surprised nobody stayed to serve or make custom orders. So the service wasn't as fancy as a good hotel. Lee stopped to meet Shashi and Priya before making a plate, and immediately felt underdressed. Shashi was in an elegant long dress elaborately embroidered with metallic thread. She had to have a dozen bracelets on one wrist and really fancy earrings like little chandeliers. Even the kid wore a sort of tunic with an elaborate lacy panel down the front.
If they were put off by their plainly dressed, bare footed hostess they covered it up really well. But looking at the kid with eyes like saucers she realized she wasn't the main attraction. The girl was enthralled by the aliens. Give the kid credit, she did pull her eyes off them long enough to be properly introduced. They left the seat next to Shashi open so Lee got a plate off the buffet and sat next to her.
Lee picked one of the larger platters, probably meant for Gordon, and piled about four thousand calories on it.
Shashi looked at the plate and frowned. "You're gene mod," she declared, looking confused like she hadn't expected that. She started to turn her head to look at Sally, because she obviously didn't have life extension, but thought better of it. She was sly enough to turn it into a look at Gordon, but her head ratcheting like a jerky automaton gave her away.
"Yes, and I have life extension work too," Lee agreed.
"But aren't you the girl they kidnapped and held on Earth that Derf fought a war over?" Shashi asked. "I thought they would deny you entry, or straight out imprison you if you tested gene modified at customs." This story had her daughter's attention even over aliens.
"I wasn't, back then," Lee explained. "After the war I went back to Derfhome, went on a long voyage of exploration that found Talker's civilization," she nodded at him, "and didn't get life extension until I came back to the Moon a second time."
"I haven't been anywhere," Priya groused. It sounded like a long standing complaint.
Lee kept her mouth shut, because she couldn't commiserate, couldn't have even related at the same age. And she welcomed the chance to get a few bites of breakfast in.
Priya furrowed her brow thinking hard. "You're young. If you've started LET why hasn't Sally? It seems to me she needs it more."
"That's none of our business," her mom said, horrified.
"Oh, that's OK," Sally insisted. "The child has more sense than a couple billion Earthies. We don't have it on Derfhome yet, Honey. Although it looks like we will soon. Gordon offered it as part of my pay to work for him. I'd be stupid to refuse."
"They don't think it's evil on Derfhome?" Priya continued to her mother's distress.
"No, but most of the Humans there come from places on Earth that banned it and did feel that way. They were lied to and didn't know any better," Sally explained.
"That makes sense, but it's sad," Priya decided.
"Indeed. I can't argue that," Sally agreed.
"We're working to get it to work for the others too," Lee said, gesturing at their alien friends. Also to divert Priya a bit and end her mother's distress.
"Oh! I never thought about that," Priya said. "They're so different. Of course our medicine might not work. They can't even eat the same stuff lots of times."
There was one of those pauses that happen in conversation. Even Priya was silent, apparently having plenty to think about.
"Gordon," Sally said, "I found that old video last night about the Home fellow who ripped through a space station bulkhead. Want me to send it to your pad?
"Put it on the screen if you want," Gordon said, making a gesture at it with his fork.
Sally glanced at Priya dubious. "It might not be suitable. It has some violence."
"Messy?" Shashi asked making a face.
"Not really, but very aggressive and maybe scary," Sally said.
"Does it trivialize it? Shashi asked.
"Not at all," Sally said, "but some found humor in the karma meted out."
"Show it," Shashi decided. "It sounds interesting. Priya has been begging for access to horror videos other children talk about, and we've been telling her it's a sick genre. But she sees real bad stuff on the Earth news unfortunately. We don't try to hide reality from her."
"House, play the file selected off my pad on the big screen," Sally instructed.
A big man was sprawled belly down on an old fashioned bunk in shorts. He stirred and made a recovery to consciousness. When he sat up he was restrained with antique metal hand cuffs with a chain between them, and his scowl was epic.
"But that's . . . Priya piped up. Her mother cut her off with a "Hush! Just let us watch it." She looked at her mom incredulous. It was obvious her mom didn't cut her off like that often, but she was tired of her butting in tonight. Shashi just held a finger to her lips. Priya relented and turned back to watch it silently.
The fellow gathered his manacled wrists in front of him and snapped the chain on the cuffs with one jerk.
"I don't think . . ." Talker started, and then decided he shouldn't talk over it either. Sally didn't begrudge him his skepticism. A lot of folks felt the same watching it, that it was faked in the computer or staged with prop pieces made to break. Everybody took the chance to finish up their breakfasts while it played.
When the fellow bent the bunk frame in a V, and then ripped it out of the wall it did strain credulity. He wasn't in any hurry which was somehow worse. He was simply relentless.
The sound of tearing metal certainly made it seem like the wall was a real bulkhead. The North American military in period uniforms seemed terrified even though they eventually did overcome him and bind him again. One of the fellows said, "Dear God . . . Are all the Homies like this brute?" It did seem likely it was a well crafted propaganda piece. He was overcome, but only by overwhelming numbers and weapons. One could only imagine what he would have done in armor and with his own weapons. There were too many other details meant to terrify. When he was sitting on the edge of the bunk his musculature seemed more likely the product of special effects. He looked like an anatomy chart naming each muscle group, and the collection of scars he displayed seemed unlikely from any trauma that would be survivable.
"My goodness, it's just as scary the second time as the first," Sally said. "The look of contempt on his face when he braces to snap that chain . . . You don't want to be the fellow who put those things on him, do you?"
"That wasn't scary," Priya said. That got her looks from several of them. They wondered if it was bravado and she'd be having bad dreams tonight.
"Well, unless you were that guy sitting watching him come through the wall," Priya said. "Then it would be pretty scary, but they were asking for it."
"Yes little gal, unfortunately there are a lot of idiots out there asking for it," Gordon said.
"I bet you could go through a bulkhead like that," Priya said, appraising him, "without needing anything but those claws."
Gordon looked down. He'd been holding his mug with both true hands, but his lower arms were gripping the table edge with claws involuntarily extended. Maybe it wouldn't upset anybody too much he hoped. They just left little dimples when he let go. Distressed, that's what they called it. Humans did it to furniture on purpose. It gave it character supposedly.
"I'd rather use my ax. I might break a claw tip," He said inspecting them with mock concern, "They take weeks to grow out."
Priya was delighted.
"If everyone has finished eating, we should consider getting on over to the audience hall," Shashi suggested.
"Do they lock the door after letting people in?" Lee wondered.
"No, but when the last supplicant is served they do lock up for the day." Shashi said.
"It might be a slow day. Let's not take a chance," Lee said, getting up, and putting her plate back on the serving cart. It had a bin marked for that purpose. But she hurried to her room and changed. Shashi looked relieved when she came out dressed much nicer, with shoes.
* * *
They went out the other door they hadn't used. The audience hall, more like a chamber, was quite close. Lee counted just past four hundred steps. It would have been silly to call a cart. The entry wasn't anything special. Just a bit larger door, but once inside Lee realized it was the same room in which they met April before, but subtly different. They just came in through a side door instead of the grand entry hall. The wall and door in it, behind the table in the middle of the floor, hadn't been there before. It cut the room down to a third of what it was before. The entry they'd used before was sealed off by a panel that looked permanent, but Lee knew better.
The same lovely wood benches were there, and a small table with a cloth draped across it. Behind the table a very simple wood chair was elegant in its simplicity. There was a small rug in front of the table, in muted colors, the only floor covering in the room. There was something about the lighting too. The overhead wasn't as cavernous.
There were two people there already, although it was only four minutes after the hour. One looked angry, the other resigned. Both looked astonished when they trooped in. It was easy for Lee to forget what a spectacle they must present with aliens, and something of a mob. They filled up the rest of one bench. Another man came in wearing a dirty suit liner and looked amused at them rather than surprised. Lee suspected she’d like him.
Priya managed to wedge herself between Gordon and Lee when everyone sat. Shashi gave her an exasperated look and sat on the other side of Gordon next to Sally, who was suppressing a grin but not very well. There was room for Ha-bob-bob-brie to stand behind the bench, and he did, directly behind Lee.
"I've never been here before!" Priya said to Lee in hushed tones. She seemed excited.
"I don't think you have to whisper," Lee told her, "but you probably shouldn't speak at all once they start doing business. I'm not going to," Lee added, lest she think it was just because she was little. Happily, she nodded agreement.
Gordon managed to fit on the bench. He often opted for the floor over Human furniture. It was like a church pew with no back. Gordon could sit on it but overhang at the back a bit. It was obviously well made since it didn't sag or groan. He put his lower legs out in front of him, ankles crossed, cute little short boots on display. His heavy middle arms he wrapped around so his clawed hands went clear to the sides. His thinner arms and true hands rested on top of the ledge the middle arms made.
Priya tugged at a claw, which was conveniently at her head level, worrying at it insistently. She could get three fingers fully around the inside curve.
Gordon ignored it for awhile, then lifted his upper arm and looked under it at her. He spread the claw set she was tugging at and framed her entire head in it rocking his wrist like he was slashing at her and growled low like a motor car starting. Priya squealed in delight and pushed it away. Her mom looked like she wanted to die of embarrassment, but the woman waiting on the opposite bench paled and looked like she might run for the door and forget all about her case.
"You're good with kids," Shashi allowed.
"At her age they love to be scared, as long as it isn't too scary," Gordon said. "Also, I can substitute for a pony pretty well, play card games, and serve as a climbing wall."
"The perfect nanny," Shashi said. "When can you start?"
"Alas, I'm still raising this one," Gordon said, tilting his head back at Lee.
When Shashi looked confused Gordon said, "I should have said, back when we were doing introductions, Lee is my daughter."
"Well of course, silly me, I see the family resemblance now," Shashi said, contrite.
* * *
There were two more waiting by the time Dakota came out. She was dressed bright like a Fargoer, which surprised Lee. Shashi explained on the way over that Dakota would come out and speak first before Heather. She didn't look Amerindian, which Lee expected from the name. Very modestly she said nothing about herself. She somehow managed to look so intense it was almost fierce, even without frowning. She walked to the small carpet and faced them.
"Court is in session this eleventh day of June, 2197. The sovereign of Central will hear your petitions and complaints. Be aware these proceeding are all posted to the public net. If you are not sure if you should be bringing a matter before the Sovereign let me encourage you to examine previous courts to see how matters are handled and explore her thinking.
"While the Sovereign will arbitrate matters if both parties agree, matters that touch on her justice are decided with no appeal possible. This is a court of life and death, and you ask justice at the risk of your life this day. Subjects are strongly urged to settle minor matters between themselves. Outsiders must consent to her justice to be heard here, but may also be expelled if they reject her justice within her domain.
"Court has come to be held every Sunday of late due to necessity, so if you wish to wait and reconsider matters before presenting a case it is a short wait. A case may not be withdrawn once started. Our custom is to hear the cases in the order of entry. Attempts at line jumping will severely prejudice your case," Dakota said, with a scary smile.
"Court will be closed when the last case is heard, and late comers barred." She didn't speak from notes, and Lee suspected there was no set formal script. It certainly wasn't legalese or flowery formal language. When she was done Dakota retreated and stood behind the table.
Heather looked exactly like the few photos Lee found on the net. She wore no crown and looked like any office worker headed to work. When she sat at the table she laid a laser pistol on the right, angled toward the wall, and a pad on the left, which she tapped to activate something.
"Step forward to be heard," Heather said, pointing at the carpet.
The young woman who had an angry scowl stomped forward. It took real attitude for a fifty kilogram young woman to stomp in lunar gravity, but she managed. The young man who was waiting on the opposite bench went forward too, but stood to the side and behind her.
"I wish my Lady to arbitrate a dispute between myself and my boyfriend," she announced.
"I remember those sworn to me. I'm not your Lady," Heather informed her. "You have a name? Is that your boyfriend lurking behind you?"
"I'm Helen Rewold, and I work in accounting for the road system. That's Hank Randazzo, and yes we've been living together near two years. I wish to end the relationship and am unhappy with the terms of doing so that he will accept."
"Do you wish me to arbitrate this matter Mr. Randazzo?" Heather asked.
"I do not. We shouldn't be wasting your time. I only came to see to my interests in this case if it escalated beyond an arbitration request. I didn't think it wise to allow Helen to speak without any contrary view available if there are questions raised."
Heather looked back at Helen. "Arbitration is voluntary. He declines. Unless you want to present a criminal case I have nothing to offer you. Do you have a complaint? Has he refused to let you leave? Now is your chance to run, if he has been keeping you locked in the bathroom. Has he refused to allow you to remove your possessions? I can send security to allow you to recover your clothing or family heirlooms. Things bought jointly, without any contract, you will have to come to an agreement like reasonable adults. If you aren't reasonable adults consider this training towards that desirable goal."
Helen was momentarily speechless, because she hadn't rehearsed any response to this unexpected turn of events.
Hank lifted an index finger to draw Heather's eye. When he had it he asked permission to speak. She just nodded.
"I do not wish arbitration, but I believe I'd like to present a case for justice. The matter is too minor to put before you, but here I am though I'd rather not be, so I may as well present it now and have the matter resolved rather than be back in a week if security will not act on it."
"Speak," Heather commanded.
"I wish, please, to have Miss Rewold removed as she is in trespass. I've given her verbal notice and she hasn't complied. Indeed, she changed the access codes yesterday and I had to prove my identity to the house computer to override and get back in my own apartment. I took a change of clothing and went to the Jamison's Bed and Breakfast because I didn't wish to call security late in the day, and Helen already told me she was going to speak to you this morning. I didn't want to be seen as trying to bypass your justice. I'd simply like her and her things gone. If she wants some furniture or cooking pots that's a small price to have peace again. I just ask she take nothing from my family, like my books, that I had before her."
"You are charged with trespass," Heather informed Helen. "Do you wish to contest it?"
"He was happy to have me move in!" she objected. "It's closer to my work and he doesn't have hardly anything to pack. He can move much easier than me. It's not like he owns it."
"You are proposing he should remove from the apartment he occupied prior to meeting you, and allowing you to share occupancy?" Heather asked, a little amazed. She got a shrewd look then and asked, "Have you been splitting the rent? Do you have payment records showing you effectively became joint tenants? Or do you have a place of your own you've maintained while living with him?"
When she didn't answer Hank did. "She was living with Jim Crossman, who works in the cabbage mines, but we started dating and she asked to switch over. Jim was kind enough to hire a cart and help her move, because she had a ton of stuff. Before Jim, I have no idea where she lived."
Helen started to object. "I was . . ." Heather cut her off with a slash of her hand. "It doesn't matter. Like arbitration, switching occupancy requires agreement from both parties. That is lacking here so his agreement with housing stands. I'm sure I'm not hearing the real root of this problem, but neither does that matter. Do I need to send security to load your things on a cart? If I do I'm going to charge you for both the cart and their time. Or will you vacate peacefully at my order?"
"How soon?" Helen asked, deflated.
"Today," Heather said, "Both storage and other apartments are available. There is no reason to delay." She regarded the sulky look and angry silence and thought. "I must warn you. If you create a mess, trash the place while leaving, I would deal with that quite harshly."
"I'll go," Helen said. "Just for your information, the bastard took my sister out to lunch."
"Well, I can't accept that as a criminal complaint. I'm curious however, given the level of your anger. Is that a euphemism for slept with her?" Heather asked her.
"No, but with him it was sure to follow."
Hank smiled like he'd been complimented instead of insulted.
"Then this case is resolved. I hope you realize this little soap opera is now a matter of public record. In a few years you may regret its entertainment value. People do search them before committing to contracts with others.
"Mr. Randazzo!" Heather said before he turned away. "I hope you will think on the fact that your friend Mr. Crossman was so helpful and happy in aiding her to move out. It might be a pattern of behavior you'll see again in life and want to recognize."
"You're both dismissed," she said. Neither left looking very happy.
Heather looked directly at Lee. "I believe you are the primary for this group?"
Lee stood but didn't go to the carpet.
"We wish to have a discussion with you as a principal party. We are neither petitioners nor seek arbitration. If we have complaints they are above the purview of this court, on matters of state. So I believe they should be confidential and not a matter of public record. We seek a private audience when you've disposed of local justice."
"We grant that. We will speak with you privately in our quarters. There will be peers and friends present who have leave to advise us. Do you wish to wait there or observe here?"
The change of form to the formal pluralis majestatis instead of the intimate way she spoke to her subjects put Lee off a little. She had to blink twice before answering.
"I look forward to meeting your peers and friends, but I fear it would be awkward because we'd be making idle chit-chat and avoiding anything of substance until you join us. I'd just as soon stay and see how you dispense justice a bit more," Lee chose.
"That makes you next, Larry," Heather said to the fellow in the dirty suit liner.
"I wish to make a complaint against my supervisor's boss on a matter of safety," Larry said.
"Have you spoken to the man about it?" Heather asked him.
"I was ordered directly not to by my immediate supervisor, Paulson. He said he'd told the man the same thing, it wasn't well received, and not to bring it up again because the matter was closed."
"Safety is always relative," Heather said, carefully. "Can you define to what degree this impacts safety? Is the matter too technical for me to evaluate?" Heather asked. "Or can you explain it in layman's terms?"
"It's a hazard to life. It could result in the loss of a ship. And it's unacceptable because it is entirely preventable. The only cost is to replace defective software that should have never been accepted and paid for. You know electronics so I can explain it easily."
"Loss of a ship," had Lee's full attention. She wanted to hear this.
"I haven't kept up with everything in the field, but run it past me," Heather invited.
"It's not complicated. The newest upgrade of ship operating software performs a periodic check between the running computer and the two back-ups," Larry explained. "It poses a set of problems to the one running, then saves the answers and does the same thing to the other two in turn. The next time it varies the order of testing leaving a different computer running at the end so it does load sharing. Each one over a period of time performs a similar number of operations and has about the same time on its operating clock."
Heather nodded, wondering when he was going to make his point.
Larry looked disappointed she didn't see the problem.
"Beyond a few very early failures electronics tend to fail after so many operations or hours. Any one may last longer or shorter, but they do graph out as a bump if not a spike," Larry said, drawing a graph in the air with his finger. "If you carefully distribute the time share on three computers they may indeed last longer, but if say, they have a defect that surfaces after five thousand hours, you may find yourself in the ass end of nowhere with a dead computer and two backups that have forty nine hundred and fifty hours on the clock."
"Oh, crap. I can see it." Heather said. "The old software didn't do that?"
"No, and for a reason, whoever wrote the old version understood failure modes. I'd have never noticed, but I was looking back through the logs at systems reports and every time I hit the key the number in the right corner of the screen kept changing back and forth, because a different computer was reporting.
"And this warning was rejected, why?" Heather asked.
"You'll have to ask them. I was informed I'm not qualified to judge this. The thing is, I won't sign off on a ship that carries that software version. I sort of expect to be fired for insubordination tomorrow if I refuse."
"This update is how old?" Heather asked.
"A couple weeks old. Mind you, I'm not saying we'll have ships falling out of the sky right and left because of this. We don't put cheap stuff in ships, but if a ship has three computers carrying the same defective component it could happen. It's worse in a new ship that has computers all built in the same narrow time frame so they share production runs of the same components. The risk is actually worse briefly if a new unknown defect is there that shows up quickly. It not, it might take a few years, or it might never happen. But why take the risk?" Larry asked.
"Dakota, get me three unrelated experts on this sort of system and software by noon tomorrow. Larry, we'll have a determination before tomorrow is done. You may be called back to testify. I will inform you if your concern is supported or if not a decent explanation why not. I will not see anyone punished for insisting on a review of anything they consider a life threatening defect, even if they are wrong. If you still don't agree you don't have to continue with ships. We have plenty of other important work. If you are correct and it's a danger then it's my problem with which to deal. Does that satisfy you?"
"Entirely, thank you." He gave a little nod and left.
"And we come to the last couple," Heather said. She seemed happy about the last part.
They had been earnestly talking, heads together, while Larry presented his case. The man stood but didn't come forward. "We decided to see if we can resolve this without bothering you. Thank you for being willing to listen," he said. His companion just nodded and they fled.
"And sometimes you can clear your desk that easily," Heather said, sweeping a hand at the empty bench. "Come back with us and we'll get much more comfortable."
"I understand the benches being hard and no back to lean on. But why do you sit on a hard wooden chair with no cushion?" Lee asked.
"Honey," Heather said. "I'm the last one in the room you want to get too comfortable, and start enjoying being here."
Chapter 24
Heather's residence wasn't a grand palace. Jeff and his engineer Mo had prevailed upon her to accept something about three times as big as she originally requested. She reluctantly saw all their reasons made sense. When they tunneled down to a depth at which it was a shirt sleeve comfortable temperature any expansion was likely to be horizontal. That meant if she didn't make it big enough at the start it would be very inconvenient to expand later. She might end up needing to move everything out to the expanding edge of their warrens. That would take her away from the center of government activity and the classic court to which they wanted to give her direct access.
She seemed happy with the compromises now after living there some decades. Heather had insisted they cut her cubic at a higher depth, running about four degrees cooler than the the temperature range others were saying was ideal. In her opinion all the human activity would generate waste heat and create thermal pollution. It was up three tenths of a degree in forty five years, so it looked like she was right. A few people said that in a couple centuries they would be installing heat pipes to the higher levels to cool the current level.
The plans and drawings they showed her neglected to show that they left quite a buffer between her residence and surrounding excavations, both horizontally and vertically. That was her engineer's hedge against need in the far future, and isolation for security. Like her court, Heather insisted the large open spaces in her residence be capable of being closed off to create more intimate, normal scale spaces when there was no need to impress anyone.
Those panels and screens were all retracted and hidden away now. There were so many people in her home today it was crowded while wide open. There was ample seating and a place set up for drinks both alcoholic and not. There was a buffet table being set up although it didn't have food yet. There were cut flowers several places around the room, an extravagance that impressed Lee. She zeroed in on the coffee and picked a thermal mug so she could linger over it.
The main room had a dropped center with sculpted tiers and dramatic lighted art dipping from the ceiling. The bottom level had a stone table centered on it, with fossil sea shells in it, polished to glass smooth surface. Most of the guests were keeping to the second and third higher tiers. Heather took the corner of a sofa facing the table when she might have had a massive chair that was more like a throne. Lee was going to take a second tier seat opposite her, but Heather looked right at her, and touched the arm of the matching sofa butted right up against hers. So she took the invitation. Gordon sat beside her.
Ha-bob-bob-brie stood right behind her, but sideways, back to Heather.
"Bodyguard?" Heather asked, glancing up at him, and lifting an eyebrow. He was tall and thin so he did rather tower above them when they were seated.
"Yes, and a volunteer," Lee added, then turned to Ha-bob-bob-brie and continued, "May I share your name?"
"To a queen?" he asked. "Of course, I have read of her with approval."
"Sovereign of Central, meet Ha-bob-bob-brie," Lee said.
"Oh good, you speak and read Standard. Thanks for the kind words."
"I speak Standard English, understand several variations, Hin of course, middling Derf, Badger about as well as anyone seems able right now, and I am trying to make sense of Japanese, but it is difficult. The New Japan dialect is diverging already. I also have had some success with Caterpillar word grids."
"Good, because I want to ask a question," Heather said.
"Honored One, it is your home and your nation. You may ask anything you wish."
"Polite isn't he? OK, Feathered One. Why are you standing with your back to me?"
"If that is against custom I apologize. You said 'why' with a little burr to your voice, that humans sometimes adapt to express irritation. I turned toward the other entry and the serving people because that seems the likeliest threat axis towards my Lady. I have my left side to her because that is my natural direction to strike. My back to you because any threat to her has to come across you, and would be met by at least a half dozen armed responses. The eyes in the crowd coming back and scanning around you repeatedly guarantee it. My right side, which is my weak side, is to the gentleman who sat behind us. He looks capable of stopping anything short of a main battle tank," Ha-bob-bob-brie answered.
Gordon twisted in his seat to see who Ha-bob-bob-brie would describe that way.
"Sweet Goddess, you're real!" Gordon blurted out. It was the fellow who snapped steel hand cuffs like they were gift box ribbons. April was beside him, and she thought this was hilarious. "Gunny, you have reached a new level of fame when a half ton carnivore with claws like steak knives is in awe of you."
"I saw you . . ." Gordon said, and then instead of continuing he just crossed his true hands at the wrist and jerked them apart with his fiercest expression.
"Oh, that damn video," Gunny said, and did a face palm.
"Gunny is my bodyguard," April informed them smugly.
Ha-bob-bob-brie regarded him, head cocked over. He either adapted that exaggerated mannerism way back from humans or it was natural to his race.
"What you thinking?" Lee asked in the terse abbreviated way she did sometimes.
"I'm thinking that on top of natural physical ability shown and training, this Human has over a hundred years experience being a body guard. Do not underestimate him."
"Yeah, they don't look old, so it's easy to forget that," Lee agreed. They all gave her a very bland look and didn't protest, which just reinforced the inconvenient truth of it.
"That is perhaps at the core of why I am here," Lee said, looking at Heather and seizing the opportunity to start talking business. "All my friends with me are cleared to hear anything I have to say. If you have anyone here who shouldn't hear matters of state I suggest you excuse them or tell me this isn't a business session. If it isn't, I want to know when that will happen. You, all your people, have displayed a talent at obfuscation, side-tracking conversations when they approach areas you don't want to deal with. Well we've seen that pattern and are serving notice we aren't going to be managed and guided. You have the advantage of experience on us, but we're not going to be jollied and led around like little kids who can be distracted from a cookie they want. We are going to have some answers, and if those answers aren't forthcoming, it's going to mark a rift between us. So it's up to you which fork in this road you want to take."
The room was silent, stunned by an opening statement with such a blunt warning and the obvious depth of anger behind it.
"Shashi, do you mind the burden of possibly hearing things you will have to keep secret?" Heather asked.
"No, but Priya isn't of an age to be sworn to you. I'll remove her if you wish."
Priya looked indignant, but to her credit said nothing.
Heather looked thoughtful. "No need. You might have to be careful, but she simply won't have the same circumstances, where you might to need to exercise caution."
She looked back at Lee, and hesitated again. "Though I suddenly suspect whatever we work out is going to be very public in a short time anyway."
Lee didn't agree or contradict her yet. If she was implying Lee would feel no need to hide their negotiations if they couldn't come to terms, she was right.
"Very well, let us make sure everyone is known, all around, and we can proceed," Heather said. "I am Sovereign here. Except for Priya everyone here is sworn to me or my peer. We shall talk informally, the royal plural silliness is fine to make a legal point, but you have to stop and think how to frame it.
"April you know. She is my peer and longstanding partner. Jeff," she pointed to a handsome coppery skinned fellow, "is a peer and an equal partner in business to both of us. Our relationship predates all others outside family. All three of us have interests and businesses and indeed political obligations that are distinct even if they overlap. We are all three citizens of Central, Home, and several other nations, of which you aren't aware.
"Gabriel, who some of you have met, is sworn to me." Gabriel stood briefly, so people could see him.
"Shashi, who you've all met, is sworn.
"Eileen Foy and her husband Victor Foy are sworn to me." Victor gave a little wave.
"Dakota is my secretary and much more, sworn to me on the first day of our nation.
"Gunny is the most recently sworn. Necessity made him do so, to do a job for me.
"All my sworn subjects tend to multitask and change jobs at need. The door is not open for just anyone to swear to me. I must see them as an asset and have confidence in them."
Heather nodded at Lee that it was her turn.
"You all heard the Hin is my bodyguard. If you heard his name be aware that doesn't give you leave to use it casually. The Hinth regard being known to each other, and formally sharing names, as a special relationship."
"Then how may we address him?" April reasonably asked.
Lee looked a question at Ha-bob-bob-brie."
"This is a new thing. I have only walked among my brothers of the Little Fleet and those tied to Lee. I don't think I'm ready to be known to humanity at large, Talker I can easily acknowledge as known since he served the fleet well, and is Lee's friend, if I may use his Badger name?"
"Of course, Brother," Talker said.
"If I go to town on Derfhome I'm with Derf or Humans and I'm the only Hin. It's easy to talk around me. The shopkeeps don't need a name and the barmaids all assign one, or ask the others what the Hin will have like I'm deaf."
"If one may suggest," Gordon offered. "Perhaps you should have a customary name for dealing with Humans, the same as I do. Gordon serves as well and saves a lot of time."
"I like that," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "To those to whom I am not formally known, please call me Phoenix."
"Does that have significance to you?" April asked.
"Indeed, I've had two distinct lives," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "Consider it settled."
"I'm curious if you don't mind saying," Gunny asked him. "What do barmaids call you?"
"It's really odd. They almost all walk up and ask: What will you have, Honey?"
The Humans all found that funny. There's no explaining Human humor.
Lee considered that closure and forged ahead.
"Gordon is my adoptive father. We're partners in claims on a class 'A' living planet. We're also partners in the High Hopes Exploratory Association. I'm a member of his clan, Red Tree. We both recently gained Fargone citizenship. Also, Gordon conducted the space war against North America on behalf of Red Tree.
"Talker is spox and ambassador to the Derf and our allies for his race. He also sees to the interests of the associated races in their star spanning civilization. They have pledged to use and support our claims system since the Claims Commission on Earth balked at trying to administer claims at the great distance the Little Fleet went. He is my friend.
"Sally," Lee pointed out, "represents our bank and is along to establish our claims as securities we hope Earth financial institutions may trade. She wears a double hat, being in charge of creating the functional part of our claims commission, the record keeping and personal share accounts."
"When you say our bank, do you mean you have an ownership interest?" Jeff Singh asked.
"No, we use them," Lee said. "None of us have experience in banking, and I have enough on my plate without trying to learn another complex profession."
Sally spoke up. "To clarify, the Bank of Derfhome has many clients. We have managed accounts for the Red Tree clan for generations, from before Human contact. However, the reality is the High Hopes Exploratory Association and the personal accounts of Gordon and Lee now amount to the majority of our business, and will only increase."
"We three do have our own bank," Jeff said. "Banking in this system is not limited to Earth or Ceres. We would talk business with Sally if she wishes."
"Of course," Sally said, and Lee nodded agreement.
"So, are you representing Red Tree or the Exploratory Association?" Heather asked.
"Both, and myself," Lee answered. "But what we do will touch much more. Talker's entire multi-race civilization, because of his people's relationship to the Human sphere of influence, balances on their agreements with Gordon and the Little Fleet. It touches upon Fargone since their nationals, including Gordon and I now, have a deep interest in our claim shares. In time it will interest all the traditional Derf clans, because Red Tree just happens to be the leader in space now. However, when the Mothers make law it is accepted or challenged by all the clans. They will all see to their own best interests, and have no custom of moderation.
"It involves New Japan now, even though they probably aren't aware I'm here, because we sent Talker's people to them to buy arms. You know how they are. They won't have outsiders say what they can do or not any more than clan Mothers.
"There is already a complex web of interests and agreements both economic and cultural between millions of sapients, that won't be swept aside because some Earthmen don't like them. We see potential conflict of the sort you've said you've tried to restrain and avoid. I'm here to give you the opportunity to do what you are already committed to doing, protecting Earth from their own stupidity."
That produced a momentary pause and visible shuffling of positions, as if people suddenly found their seats uncomfortable.
"They doubt you are worthy," Ha-bob-bob-brie accused.
"That's their problem," Lee said. "Nobody said that. Please remember, I've never found any joy in having people die for me."
"I suspect that's part of why they do," Talker said quietly.
"You read us wrong," April claimed. "I've fought that sort of arrogance myself. I've warned people to back off and had them describe me as a child with a pocket phone. Jeff desperately pleaded with them to return his stolen property or he'd make war on them. They could only see we didn't have a flag and lines on a map, or fancy uniforms with medals and high sounding titles. It's been damn frustrating. I swear these ground dwellers have a hard time thinking in 3D. We've been lucky that the L1 limit seems to be easy to visualize for them."
"All that said, you did claim more than we expected," Heather admitted. "You have got ahead of us, and we didn't see the full pattern you cite. Frankly, you personally could go away, and all these problems would still remain."
"The Hin and the Badger are as bound to her as any of your sworn men are to you," Gunny told Heather. "I can see it plain as day. It doesn't matter if they never had their hands covered and were solemnly sworn."
"My own father chastised me over that very thing," Talker admitted.
"Would you explain?" Gunny asked.
"There is what you might call a morality play in our culture, a very old lesson from our pre-space history. It makes a pointed lesson about the nature of friendship. Friendship among us has a scope English may not encompass, anymore than it explains what being 'known' means to the Hinth. The play teaches that real friendship isn't a matter of formalities, also not a matter of class, which was more a problem a thousand years ago than today, but still a factor. When I admitted I failed at first to recognize Lee had befriended me until I was told, Father said. 'Did the Traveler and the Farmer stand and swear friendship or just do it?' Being asked softly didn't lessen the sting of that question."
"What did she do?" Gunny demanded.
"She offered to lie before my door to protect me with her body as I slept, without condition, so that I might sleep without night terrors."
Gunny looked at Lee, and didn't say anything, but his doubt was obvious.
"You have not seen what she can do with an auto pistol," Talker cautioned.
"I don't think I want to," Gunny decided.
"The Little One is fearless," Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "I am told you have unknown powers and superior technology. I have no authority here, but I'll tell you for myself if no others speak. Do not think to ally with her if you are fickle."
"Doubt runs both ways," Gunny observed.
"You do not know our culture," Jeff insisted. "We are a very high trust society where one's word is precious. Where a business person will take a loss to keep trust rather than follow the letter of a contract to their advantage, where someone who is 'fickle' finds himself shunned, and sometimes physically expelled from either Central or Home."
Heather jumped in. "And this colors our desire or ability to make any pact with you. Because we do intend to do anything we say. That makes us reluctant to commit."
"Fair enough," Lee said. "I'd be happy to walk away with an agreement of all negatives if that's all we can do."
"I hope we might do better, but to be sure I understand, elaborate what you mean by that, please," Heather asked Lee.
"Instead of a mutual defense treaty, just a non-interference agreement. Instead of a trade pact, simply an agreement not to influence our respective economic spheres. No exchange, no travel offered, just strict neutrality. When we find you among the stars we would politely back off and mark it on our charts not to come back. You would agree to stay out of our parts of the heavens too. We're not as secretive as you, so we'd even give you charts of what is ours.
"I've seen these other races. If you don't think there is benefit to knowing them you are short sighted, but if you wish to be isolationist we can at least try not to end up enemies."
"You can't reach us," Jeff insisted. "It's a meaningless offer. We've moved away until our closest world we will absolutely retain is over three hundred light years away."
"I'm sure that's just a hop skip and a jump for you. Gabriel there gave me a ride in one of your ships you know. It was very impressive. So we can't reach you, today. But when we have quantum drives based on gravitational gradients we will be able to, or even bypass you. Why would we need to encumber ourselves with agreements with you then? There are more of us on many more worlds. We already have enough physical assets, metals and living room, mapped out to carry us for centuries. We have assets in diverse cultures with different points of view and skills to play off each other and build a greater whole.
"Shopping for friends based on what they can do for you and avoiding anyone who might need help isn't very attractive. Even worse, suddenly seeking friends with those who've improved their fortunes would look . . . insincere.
"Conflict is not just a theoretical possibility. I'm here because the Mothers of Red Tree are already peeved at you, and feel they have been treated dishonestly."
"On what basis?" Jeff demanded. "What dealing have we ever had with your Mothers?"
"The Mothers sat and negotiated a treaty with North America thinking they were dealing with an independent and sovereign nation. Now we've found out the North Americans are restricted and limited by the Lunar powers. The Mothers take the responsibility of governance seriously, and expect it to be done honestly. I actually spoke to your defense, to say the Earthies were in denial, and would insist they are sovereign. However, if they had bought that view entirely I wouldn't be here. They feel you are overlords and their treaty is basically worthless if you could abrogate it at will. I doubt they would speak with a North American spox again. They'd tell them to send their Masters to speak for them."
"Oh God . . . wouldn't that be a mess?" Heather said, horrified. When Lee looked visibly perplexed she explained. "There are billions of them. You don't live with them a couple light seconds away like us. We figure if push comes to shove we could kill the vast majority of them and still lose. And talk about responsible governance, we don't want to govern them. It would take more people than we have, and I mean all of us. There's no way they would accept our rules. Our philosophies are simply too divergent. We have more customs than law. They have more laws than any person can know, until they are simply ignored or it would all collapse. A statement like that from the Mothers might inflame them to attack us . . . again."
"You can't govern, down there," Lee agreed. "But you've already imposed rules off Earth. The L1 limit alone was a major intervention. We aren't interested in telling them how to live down there either. Off planet is another matter. We're headed for conflict with them. If you can't see that you haven't been paying attention. They lost a war, were forced into a treaty, and then broke it. They've already been arrogant enough since to send show the flag naval visits to Derfhome to see if we'd exclude them.
"One of the few things the Earthies did well was the Claims Commission, and then they turned us away from using it. I expect after we've gone to all the trouble to make our own they will announce they've changed their minds, like we'll just undo everything for their convenience. I can see war over that alone."
"We have intervened beyond L1," April said. "We insisted they couldn't mine the outer systems of the aboriginal races, so those are preserved for them. Every time we take a stand on something has risks. We choose carefully."
"What happened that the Hinth weren't worth protecting?" Ha-bob-bob-brie asked.
"Respectfully, we would have been saving the Hinth from themselves," April answered. "They gave away the store and asked to be subjugated. Your anger is valid, but misplaced. Blame your priesthood for welcoming the boot on their neck," April said.
Ha-bob-bob-brie opened his beak wide, showing a tongue that was seldom seen. Then he snapped it shut with an audible clack. "I spoke for myself in anger, and I withdraw my complaint," he decided. "It hurts, but there is truth in what you say."
"So, tell me why we should shield Derfhome any more than Hin," April asked, because she was irritated to have been called to justify their actions toward the Hinth. She knew Heather already intended to protect them, but she felt like making them justify it now.
"It serves your stated interest of protecting Earth from their own folly," Lee said. "If they try to assert control over us, and the string of claims the Little Fleet made, then it can come to war. They might find themselves opposed by not only Derfhome but all the nations I mentioned, the Derf and Fargone, Talker's civilization, and maybe even New Japan. There's nothing like a common enemy to bring people together. How do you think they will fare if we all unite against them? As I said, we'd be happy to be assured of neutrality. Just knowing you won't actively oppose us defending ourselves if the Earthies try to dominate us."
"You think we'd take their side against you?" Heather asked, disturbed.
"You do seem awfully attached to that cesspool as a repository of biodiversity, human genotypes and the physical record of most of human history. We're not terribly sure what value we have in your eyes. The Mothers wouldn't have sent me to demand an answer where we stand with each other if it was obvious to them. You'd like the Earthies to mature into a reasonable non-aggressive civilization, safe to let loose on the Galaxy. Yeah, sure," Lee sneered. "I want lots of things too, while we are wishing for fantasies.
"Has it escaped your notice that we have pretty much achieved what you claim to want? We have the kernel of a star spanning, cooperative, multiracial civilization started and working hard to succeed, without waiting for one to emerge from Earth. That may be a fairy tale ending that never happens. There may be too many cultural roadblocks for them to fix. I've been down there and tried to deal with them. I think it would be an absolute miracle for them to get their act together."
"No, I must object," Heather said. "No matter how much we value that biosphere and cultural relics, we'd never support evil over good to preserve it. I'm hurt you'd think that of us."
"How well can we know you?" Lee asked. "You're rather secretive. It's difficult to find out enough from the web to draw many conclusions. There's a lot of contradictory things in the record. Even as well off as Gordon and I are, we are usually dealing with very limited fractions of the English web. I've never met anyone from Central or Home, except by actually visiting here. Do your people even visit the Lunar Republic or Fargone? I hear you have a relationship with those nations, but do you really go there for business or pleasure?"
"Not enough you'd ever know," Heather admitted. "Maybe a dozen or so a week to the Republic, but they blend in there, and you'd never know a lady shopping or a man in a restaurant was from Central to see them. I'd be surprised if Fargone saw one of us a month over a year. There just isn't much need of it. I do see what you mean though. We are as exotic and unlikely as finding a Chinese person of the Ming dynasty in Medieval Europe. And if you did find one it wouldn't be in the marketplace, it would be at court, away from the public eye."
"There are so many questions unanswered," Lee said, "so many things that don't make sense. I read the book you gave me," Lee directed at April, "But it raised more questions than it answered. We read about the Chinese sending a fleet on behalf of the United Nations. I'd never heard of them until then. But that was so long ago, not long after you moved Home out past the Moon. It's not believable Earth has stayed submissive to you since then. If there's anything consistent about them it's that they have a short memory and will be back to test you again before very long. How have you kept them afraid of you?"
"Let me get back to that in a moment," Heather said. "Let me address my own people first." She looked around the room. "You are my peers and trusted sworn subjects. You may advise me against it if you wish, but it is my firm opinion given the direction of this conversation, that we must make significant changes. Circumstances have changed. As Miss Anderson said, the Claims Commission has been a stabilizing force. It was a gift to us really, a phase of expansion with controls that molded the growth of human influence and expansion in ways for which we hoped. But now, it has reached a crisis point in excluding the claims of those its minor members were unwilling to support. In hindsight it has all the characteristics of any empire whose grasp exceeds the ability of its policy makers to control the fringes of the empire. The response time to hear of events, and issue orders in response, runs consistently behind those events. How will they respond? And how must we respond?"
"The Commission allowances to the small countries always did amount to charity," Jeff said. "The cost of maintaining a small armed ship that mostly loitered around Earth or went on a mission of limited scope to show the flag at a colony world was always far less than the benefits from the Claims Commission. Even the credits to non-space nations when there was a really major find were pretty generous. It simply bought peace and quiet from them.
"The question now is, how will they change? Human nature being what it is, they will look at the wealth in the Little Fleet claims, and psychologically it devalues exploring off the other directions where the benefits are unknown."
"I had a very perceptive gentleman on Fargone tell me the same thing," Lee admitted. "I found his more detailed explanation very persuasive."
Jeff did a little bow with his head to acknowledge that.
"There is an unfortunate tendency to resolve any loss of authority by applying more. Even though they foolishly initiated it this time, I expect them to try to rescind their error and decree the Commission will now extend their authority without distance limits. Really, the initial response of the small countries was probably more rational. It has surpassed the limits of their control given ship transit times. If they demand the Claims Commission be used it changes everything. It worked as voluntary association. It won't work when imposed. It's entirely predictable that once it is mandatory the payout to explorers and welfare to non-participating states will both plummet. That is on top of the problem that new claims were already being made at further and further distances where transportation costs eat up the profit margins.
"We speculated the commission would reverse their decision before you ever came and brought these issues up, Miss Anderson. The severity of the problems that would create is not something we saw in the same depth you suggest, but you are most persuasive," Jeff said.
"Have you considered ways to respond to them reasserting authority?" Lee asked.
"Yes, but I'll let my sovereign address that."
"Very well," Heather said. "I'll address this in informal language. We're not at court and even if someone is making a recording this isn't going to be released as an official public file like my court hearings.
"I'm inclined to do a rare intervention and inform the Earthies they will not try to impose themselves on distant worlds and associations which don't want the gift of their supervision. I'd do that starting with both Derfhome and Fargone by establishing embassies and recognizing their territorial integrity. There would be a Central flagged ship kept accessible for my voice and ambassador, which would see to your territorial integrity. I know the people at Fargone well enough to be sure they will welcome such a thing. We already have a relationship with them. Perhaps we can do the same with you, some minimal agreement one hopes, but if I send a voice and military support to Derfhome, will they be accepted?" Heather asked Lee. "I am informed they never acknowledged Fargone aid."
"I speak with the voice of the Mothers," Lee assured her. "They will be made welcome. However, I suggest you place such an embassy at a trade town so it is available to all the clans. That is what Talker did and it seems a good pattern to establish not to look too attached to any one clan to be able to welcome others. Red Tree made public their approval of the embassy, and would do the same for yours."
"How do we know the Mothers won't reject your arrangements if you get back and they aren't pleased and feel you overstepped?" Heather asked.
"It doesn't matter. I have their chop," Lee said, extending her hand with the seal for them to see. "If they don't like what I've committed them to they're still bound by their word on a public contract when this marks it. To repudiate it would destroy their standing with the other Mothers. Do you understand the concept?"
"Yes, we'd call that a hanko. Why didn't you show that to us at the start?" Heather asked.
"Look who is with me," Lee said. "I'm riding a Red Tree warship, and I have the Fleet Master and Badger spox with me, an officer of a well known bank, a Hin telling you my safety is a concern of his race. Do I really need other bona fides? My cousin, who I very much respect, once remarked to me that if you have to tell people you have power, you don't."
Ha-bob-bob-brie made a explosive little noise like a sneeze, and then looked away like nothing had happened. The Lunarians all looked at him and decided not to inquire what that meant. They all perceived it was likely laughter, if not outright derision.
"A suggestion if I may," Gordon interjected. "You should not wait to announce this. If they try to retract their decision on excluding us then it is much harder to back down from it after public statements are made. You shouldn't even reference your position as a response to theirs, that hands them power as the architect of the idea. As if it's theirs to reject or modify. Frame it as your own primary policy. You gain advantage by stating your position, and then whatever they say about it is a response. A rebuttal never has the power of a primary statement. To a lot of people who follow such things it would even look like they are just being petty and hypocritical by just automatically taking the opposite position from you."
"You're right. Last chance to speak against pursuing this," Heather warned, looking around at her people. She got a wave of negative head shakes and wave offs. "Dakota, start preparing a very simple statement covering the things I mentioned. Try not to allow room for any legalistic exclusions or mis-interpretations. No need to put it in polite diplomatic euphemisms. I'd like to look at it, and release it, if we can come to a final agreement. Just a framework is sufficient. I'm sure we'll need to alter it after we talk."
"While Dakota does that lets take a break. I'm hungry if nobody else is, and I intend to satisfy Lee's curiosity about at least one thing. That will require watching a rather lengthy video I don't want to sit through hungry. Gabriel dear, do you want to tell the caterers to serve now? I'll rejoin you in a moment," and she left to what Lee assumed were her private rooms.
Chapter 25
Lee was going to ask where there was a restroom, as that was where she suspected Heather had retreated. But looking around she spotted the Lady introduced as Eileen exiting a door on the other side of the room. The light remained on long enough to show it was what she needed.
When Lee came out the caterers had most of the buffet laid out, cold stuff mainly. Cold cuts, cheeses, all sorts of little bite size vegetables sculpted in decorative shapes, and prawns, which Lee hardly ever got, so she mentally marked them to try.
Eileen was waiting for the last caterer to leave, standing with a plate in her hands. Lee walked up behind her and was going to get a plate. She glanced down at the other end of the buffet table. The last worker laid a tray down and pulled his phone out. That wasn't professional, but it didn't surprise her. Some people are slaves to their phone, but he looked back at Eileen and lifted it like he was taking her picture. Lee was about ready to say something to Eileen about it, but he jammed the phone back in his pocket. When his hand came back out he lifted it again with something in it.
Eileen whipped the plate backhand, hard, putting a spin on it. It must have been hard to see, edge-on, because the man made no effort to duck at all. The plate hit him dead on, right across the bridge of his nose. He didn't have time to fall. One of Ha-bob-bob-brie's taloned feet took him around the front of his neck and slammed his head backward to the floor. Gunny dove through where the man had been standing, too committed to alter course, arms outstretched to tackle, and landed belly first on the buffet table, sliding halfway down the table in a tsunami of flying dishes and splashed sauces.
Heather came back through the door from her quarters just then, as Gunny slid to a stop. There were splatters of sauces up the wall halfway to the ceiling. Everything was pushed in a pile in front of Gunny. He raised himself slowly, half his face red from cocktail sauce and a prawn draped over one ear.
"Damn, but you're a messy eater," Heather scolded him.
"Phoenix is unbelievably fast," Gunny said. "I had a target, was all lined up to hit him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly he wasn't there."
"Ha-bob-bob-brie to you brother," the Hin said. "I think it was wasted effort for both of us. Lady Eileen seems to have put paid to him before we got there."
"I'm just sworn," Eileen objected. "I'm not Lady Eileen."
"You are, forevermore, Lady to me, Sister," Ha-bob-bob-brie insisted, and bowed deeply.
"The Hin has taste," Heather said. "Let's not gainsay him. Consider yourself elevated."
Then it was Eileen's turn to bow to her sovereign.
Another caterer appeared at the door and was looking at three pistol muzzles fixed on him.
"We were sitting on the cart," the catering boss said, "and Frederick never came back. I was coming to ask if there was a problem." He looked deeply shocked at the buffet's destruction.
"I'm sorry, but Frederick isn't coming back," Gunny said, making a theatrically slow, open palmed gesture, at the body on the floor. "Has he been working for you long?"
"Almost two years. He came from Camelot, and had lived in Armstrong before. There was nothing remarkable about him at all, except maybe that nobody would play poker with him."
"He cheated?" Gunny inquired.
"No, he just won all the time. I'd have never thought him a . . . What do you call it? Somebody who lives very normally, waiting to do a mission."
"A sleeper," Gunny said. You need to read more spy novels."
"What a mess. Do you want me to call security? Shall I call my fellows in the corridor to clean up? Should I see what I can salvage off the other end there and send my people for replacements?" He asked at a rush, suddenly recovered.
"Security is called," Heather said. "They'll remove Frederick. Why don't you just leave the sandwich things on the end? It looks like they survived. We'll manage with that. I'll call for you to send somebody back to clear the whole mess up when we're done."
He nodded, looking at Frederick and then the buffet that had been perfect when he'd walked out the door. It obviously bothered him to walk away with it looking like that, but he did.
"I take it you have enemies," Lee said to Eileen.
Eileen looked at her in shocked silent for a few breaths. "He was aiming at you!"
"Are you sure?" Lee asked, unbelieving.
"Mistress . . . he was aiming at you," Ha-bob-bob-brie assured her. "Hinth visual acuity is very fine. The reason he hesitated was Mrs. Foy was spoiling his aim at you."
"They would have to hold a grudge for years to have me on an assassination list," Lee protested.
"Or just not bother to take you off the old one," Gunny said. "I'm sure I'm still on somebody's shoot on sight list from a hundred years ago."
"None of you seem all that upset over it," Lee said. "I was rattled even before I knew it was directed at me. But I think all of you are right about that."
"Gunny, go in my rooms and use a real shower. That's way beyond cleaning up at a sink," Heather told him. "Besides, you are dripping."
"All of us have been targeted," April volunteered, since Gunny was following instructions. "I guess I should say, welcome to the club."
Security came in then. Scanned the man carefully for booby traps before moving him, and brought his tiny gun to Eileen after inquiring who had trophy rights.
Dakota came back and stopped staring. "You let the guys eat first again didn't you?" she asked the room. Nobody bothered to answer.
"How do you live like that?" Lee asked. "Never knowing when an assassin will pop up?"
"What choice do we have? Isolate ourselves with only the closest security? Hide in the other room while they set up a buffet table? No thanks. It's been much better once we aren't in LEO. When it was a cheap shuttle ride to Home we had all kinds of agents crawling out of the air vents. There've been a lot fewer spy bots too, now that we don't get as much supply from Earth. Come on now. Make a sandwich with me. If you let them spoil your lunch the terrorists have won." April solemnly declared.
There was plenty to eat just in the half a buffet left, though the prawns were history, trampled on the floor. It reminded Lee these folks weren't afraid of being rich and didn't care who had a fit over them laying out a nice table. Lee strongly suspected that normally little of it would go to waste after it was cleared away. The cold stuff was kept cold, and the hot stuff safely hot, so it didn't have to be tossed out unless nobody wanted it. Lee managed two tall sandwiches with a little bit of everything on them and the good pickles that had survived. There was still plenty when Gunny came back with a clean face and a damp shirt. But then Gordon went back for seconds, which pretty much finished it.
"You wanted to know why the Earthies have been reluctant to challenge us," Heather reminded Lee, after everyone had a chance to eat something.
"It's one of the things we couldn't find any explanation for in the records," Lee admitted. "It seems contrary to their entire record of behavior. They have a clear pattern of quickly forgetting any difficulty or agreement and returning to baiting and aggressive behavior."
"It takes a lot to impress them, we have to admit. I'll show you a video. This is off our scan feed. It was taken at a system we thought far enough from Earth we didn't expect to see any humans for some time. Instead it was just a few decades. North America sent an expedition deep. Deeper than your Little Fleet went, but then they weren't taking the time to look for assets. They intended to blow through every system without stopping until they needed to fuel. They were all military vessels and ran light crews with extra consumables. They were a mapping expedition and North America had plans to keep sending a group like this out on a regular basis."
"Was that plan made public?" Lee asked, thinking to search for it.
"No, we learned that from . . . intelligence sources," Heather said. "This force was two heavy cruisers and four destroyers. The cruisers each carried a courier grappled. They ran as two groups, with some separation, a cruiser and two destroyers being a unit which stayed tight and jumped together. As you are aware our ships can't be tracked and followed. That has advantages and disadvantages. It means we don't have as complete a map of everything between here and our worlds as you do from Derfhome to the star where you met the Badgers. So we don't know if the aliens were passing through between us and Earth or had been there some time. We commonly refer to this entire engagement now as the Battle of Thessaly. At the time we thought them the Builders, or what you came to call the Centaurs. We know better now but the name stuck."
"I'm not familiar with that," Lee admitted.
"Jeff is fond of mythology," Heather explained. "Look it up later on the web. This naval force ran into aliens between Earth and us. Two systems back from us. It was a bad meeting. They were bolting through and just recording what was of interest, not slowing down and just changing vector enough to aim at an exit star. They were fortunate enough to have fueled up at the system before the one with the aliens. But an alien ship did run deep in pursuit and overjumped them in the system between the one where they found each other and our star system with a living world and space installations. They killed a destroyer before everybody jumped out to our system."
"Who shot first?" Lee asked. "Who was the aggressor?"
"The North Americans said they pinged the system with radar for navigational purposes on entry, nothing more. Then while they were on burn to exit they got pinged back. If they emerged closer to each other and the North Americans shot first they weren't admitting it. The radar didn't exactly match any known Human form so they were pretty sure it was aliens. They didn't get hailed with anything that seemed to be an attempt at communications.
"Then they continued to scan the system with a general radar search after they knew someone was out there. They found they had four ships in pursuit, one of which was much faster than the other three and the only one actively looking at them with radar. Chasing them was seen as hostile."
"They might have regarded using radar alone as aggression," Lee suggested.
"Indeed, but I can't fault the task force commander at that point," Heather said. "He had a tail on him in active pursuit, no matter what provoked them, and I probably wouldn't have decided to go blind then either."
"Did the North Americans try to talk to them?" Lee asked.
"Good question," Heather said, "We never found out. When you watch you'll see we really didn't have opportunity for a calm detailed discussion. Before it was over they no longer really wanted to chat with us. Remember, this is our system and we have two incoming fleets. As far as we were concerned it was a double invasion.
"In particular, notice the time stamps on the tracking icons. I know you are used to seeing delay times in hours, and estimated positions that are long cones. To help you understand what you're going to see I'll describe how our system scan works.
"We have small jump drones that maintain position between our star and the entry jump line from all the stars within reasonable jump distance for Earth type jump drives. So far we have not found a star civilization that doesn't approximate this system."
"Neither have we," Lee agreed, "although some take the same basic system to extremes with huge ships and better acceleration."
"If one of these sentinel drones detects a burst of entry radiation it doesn't ping the vessel, it jumps back to within a few light seconds of the system scan control center, and makes a report of the estimated entry depth. I'll start the system scan video on the wall screen now, but pause it as I explain each step of the engagement. The scan center sends out another drone and jumps it to a position from which it can image the incoming vessel with radar. That usually isn't going to be head on. Rather it will appear within a few light minutes to the side of the vessels track and paint it sufficient to get a good read on its size and velocity."
The system scan showed the drone appearing beside three targets fairly far out-system. Then the screen split and it showed a detailed radar image of the vessels. It was pretty obvious it was a cruiser and two destroyers to anyone who knew the typical build sizes.
"That would scare the crap outta me to have an unknown appear beside me and paint us from way too close for comfort," Gordon said.
"What would you do?" Heather asked.
"Go to battle stations. Release defensive fire to respond to incoming. Hail it."
"Not shoot at it?" Heather persisted.
"An idiot shoots at an unknown," Gordon said without hesitation. "So you have an entry vector, size and velocity. I assume the drone that pings the thing listens while the ping is going out since you're sitting there for a few minutes?"
"Yes, but they aren't talking to us. They haven't been painted yet to know there's anybody in the system. If they aren't looking for it, they may not have see the atypical jump burst just ahead of the radar wave-front. I wouldn't shout on com into an unknown system, would you?" Heather asked.
"No, and I'm not sure why," Gordon admitted. "Lee has a point about radar. An alien wouldn't know for sure which of our radars are for search, targeting or used as an electronic weapon. But I still don't feel it's aggressive. Speech wouldn't be as scary but it seems pretty useless. Even if they recognize it as speech you know they won't understand it. It might well be a surrender demand."
Heather just nodded to acknowledge his view. "The first three Human ships jumped in together and our sentinel saw them within a half hour of entry. They'd jumped out as early as possible from the other system, not long. It jumped and reported, and an automated program returned another drone to paint them with radar and hail them. By the time it returned a few seconds later the Human ships were emitting their own radar, but the wave fronts crossed. The drone got a good enough sample to identify them as Human.
"Advancing system scan," Heather said, and they watched a smaller return separate from one of the destroyers.
"They launched a missile as soon as the second drone's radar touched them. It happened so fast we were sure they had it on automatic. The drone had sufficiently complex programming to recognize it was being targeted and jumped back. It had time however to get a decent image of all three vessels before the missile was anywhere near being a danger.
"By that time our people were in the information loop, and involved an armed vessel with human crew. We keep one on alert in inhabited systems. It jumped to the scene of entry to the other side of these three vessels, and somewhat ahead of them. Since humans with organic reflexes were involved it took almost two minutes to discuss the situation, alert the crew to action and jump out. They hailed them on arrival, but not before the other destroyer launched a missile on them."
The scan showed the manned ship position itself and another missile detach and streak toward the new target.
"It must be nice to have somebody else buying your missiles so you can strew them at unknown targets with abandon," Gordon speculated.
"Indeed, but the ultimate cost can be far more than the purchase price," Heather said. "The manned ship jumped away from the possible cone of maneuver of the missile. When they repositioned they immediately heard someone on open con between the ships say, My God, there are people here! The Central vessel then ordered the trio to decelerate to system rest and stop firing or risk being declared hostile and being fired upon."
The one dot on the scan blinked out and appeared on the other side of the three clustered dots still moving in-system. "I cheated here," Heather admitted. "They actually jumped back home and did a data drop to the system before returning to their intercept. I don't want to show that each time and expand the scale of the scan each time they jump for data transmission. Just assume it's happening in the background."
Gordon looked very unhappy. "For all practical purposes you can fight real-time with these micro-jumps when everybody else is looking at data delayed hours by light speed lag. You might as well have an instantaneous radio system. There no way I could fight you ship to ship, even with superior weapons."
"Oh joy. What did they think of being ordered to stand to?" Lee asked.
"Naval officers don't have to think," Heather assured her, "They have doctrine to follow."
Ha-bob-bob-brie made that funny noise again. Heather ignored it.
"They refused of course," Gordon said with certainty.
"Of course, but at least somebody had enough brains to turn off the automated launch system. Our ship jumped again even without another missile launch, because the clock was coming up on the time they could have detected them and responded with a beam weapon."
The scan showed the move.
"Sound reasoning as trigger happy as they were," Gordon allowed.
"The officer in charge, Captain Mahoney, on their cruiser, which was the Heavy Cruiser Indianapolis, flat out refused to stop and informed our Captain Dixon he had hostile aliens in pursuit and intended to transit the system at speed," Heather said.
"Dixon? I remember that name," Lee said, and looked at April. "Didn't he pilot a ship for you way back when you were fighting for independence? He had a nickname . . ."
"Easy," April supplied, "but this is his boy, who they call Loosey, in deliberate contrast and humor at it being a homophone for a usually feminine name. Who glories in the call-sign instead of being offended, and doesn't have a bit of patience or easy in his personality. But for a miracle instead of vaporizing them he informed the North Americans this was a populated system of the Nation of Central, any following aliens were now his concern in his system, and that he was quite willing to reduce them to dispersing vapor if they didn't follow orders to stop any better than Mahoney. Also that, last warning, he could park that sucker or he's stop it for him."
"Uh oh," Gordon said.
"Yeah, Captain Mahoney then started to reply by saying, 'With all due respect.' That's pretty much code for, 'I'm about to tell you to go pound sand.' So without waiting to hear any more, Loosey jumped an armed drone inside his destroyer escorts, fifteen hundred kilometers from the cruiser, burned about a ten centimeter hole straight through the drive section with a five millisecond greaser pulse, and jumped the drone back out before they could even locate it to return fire."
"Kill anybody?" Lee immediately worried.
"Against all odds, no, but they had to abandon the engineering spaces due to pressure loss. It wasn't a neat hole in a bulkhead you could slap a patch on. And then reenter in suits after, because of contamination from the vaporized heavy metals and smoke from fires it started."
"Well, he did stop accelerating," Gordon noted.
"And his destroyers cut drive and stayed with him. Being a warship with redundant systems he didn't lose com with them.
"Can we see that?" Gordon asked Heather.
"Oh, yeah, I got caught up telling the story and didn't advance the video."
They watched and listened to the captains interact and the drone jumped in scary close.
"Do I have your surrender sir? Or do I have to cut you in half to convince you your situation is untenable?" Dixon asked. When he didn't answer immediately, Dixon added. "Your command, the destroyers too. Do you really want to make me risk your people, and hole them too, before you will surrender?"
"No, but we are pursued. And another group like this lags behind us and may have engaged these aliens. Are you prepared to safeguard us as your prisoners if they follow?"
"I am," Dixon said, but because Mahoney hadn't responded to suit him he sent a drone and called in another Central ship. It arrived a bit short of three minutes later. And a new icon on the system scan identified it.
"I have Captain Mahoney's surrender," Dixon informed the newcomer. "I have not disarmed them. I'm going to transport them to Albert. If he breaks his parole with me kill them all," he said on the open mic.
"Yes sir," the new arrival said. He didn't bother with introductions.
"May one ask who Albert is?" Mahoney requested.
"What, not who. Albert is a gas giant favored for fuel mining. Assemble within a few hundred meters of each other and I'll take you over there, safely out of the line of fire if I have to deal with your aliens," Dixon said.
In fairness the silent pause was probably disbelief instead of resistance. "Do what he said boys, with all prudent haste," Mahoney ordered.
"Aye," they came back if not happily.
"Entry radiation," The voice from the new ship announced. "Same vector and immediately emitting radar. Emissions do not fit any known profile. It looks like we should have a half hour before they can catch up sufficiently to get in weapons range."
"Deal with them please, Janet. I'll drop these fellows off in high orbit around Albert and be right back to help with the alien," Dixon ordered. It was another twelve minutes before the three war ships were sufficiently close to each other to satisfy him, and then Dixon shifted into the middle of their formation and jumped out taking them all along. It happened too fast to see the sequence on scan with Human reflexes. They just all disappeared from scan. In about twenty seconds Dixon's ship reappeared back with Janet's.
Heather was watching them rather than the screen.
"I expected a bit more surprise," Heather admitted.
"We've seen that trick," Gordon explained, "but it is slick."
Heather gave Gabriel a carefully neutral look. That made Lee sure that Heather hadn't been asked or notified about his favor ferrying the Retribution nor taking Lee on a ride. He would probably be grilled about that later, privately.
"Four ships doing a group jump like that, and there is some velocity adjustment thrown in the mix, produce a tremendous radiation signature. The incoming aliens undoubtedly knew something was happening dead ahead. They tried to vector around it. I'm increasing the scale to bring them on screen," Heather explained.
The screen adjusted and the scale along one edge changed so they could see the intruder.
"I put a drone in front of them emitting radar," Janet told Dixon. They're burning at right angles to avoid it, on the safe side, lifting above the ecliptic."
"Put another in close right on their projected path at this acceleration," Dixon ordered, "with a short repeating voice message."
"Done," Janet said, and another icon appeared spaced along the curved path the computer predicted on the screen. The drone disappeared in a ball of nuclear fire.
"Well, that seems needlessly unfriendly," Dixon said. "What was it transmitting?"
"Just stop – stop – stop repeating endlessly," Janet said.
"I'm going to have to declare this bogie hostile unless they do something to convince me otherwise," Dixon decided. "They couldn't be certain the drone was unmanned."
"May I risk expending another drone on them?" Janet asked. "I know drones are expensive, but seeing another they may realize we have the ability to keep putting them in front of them. It shouldn't take too much intelligence to see we could be positioning weapons as easily as communications devices."
"Certainly, I know I have a reputation as a hard guy. Let's give them another chance to redeem themselves," Dixon agreed.
Another pearl of nuclear fire expanded and faded out on the screen.
"Want to go for three?" Dixon asked.
"Even I'm not that optimistic," Janet said. "Go ahead and ding 'em hard enough to stop them."
The next drone went in close and repeated the treatment Captain Mahoney's cruiser received. It survived by withdrawing before a speed of light response could reach it. The alien ship ceased acceleration, so they did manage to hit something vital.
They jumped another drone in close to observe the alien optically. It hesitated a millisecond too long, and vanished in the flare of a beam weapon.
"They're starting to seriously irritate me," Dixon declared. "You don't keep shooting when you have been rendered unable to maneuver and are at someone's mercy. I'm going to put a drone in to paint it hard with radar to reveal some of the surface details, but withdraw it before it gets the return and could be targeted. I'll pop another drone in far enough off position to be safe if they shoot where the first one was, and let it read the return."
Two dots winked into existence briefly and then changed color to show a vacated position.
The alien ship vanished in a huge explosion.
"We . . .didn't do that?" Dixon asked, uncertain.
"Nope, I didn't launch anything." Janet said. "They finally saw they were at our mercy, didn't like us getting a close look at them, and committed suicide. That's my take on it."
"That's crazy," Dixon declared.
"By our standards, yes," Janet agreed.
"I'll fast forward twenty minutes," Heather said. "That's the next action. They have a pair of drones jumping forward by increments along the entry vector. If it detects a radiation burst from an entry it jumps back to where our two ships are waiting."
"Entry burst about forty light-minutes out. Two vessels," Janet said with a question in her voice.
"Yeah, it should be three either way," Dixon agreed. "Well we'll have a fresh drone back in about fifteen seconds. The radar will ID them."
"Humans." Dixon said when they had new data. "I'd rather it were the aliens if a ship is missing. I'm going to record a message and play it from a drone in close to them. Then keep moving it, hopefully before they shoot it. Perhaps these two won't be as pig-headed as Mahoney. I'd rather not have to keep shooting at them." He left his channel open so Janet could hear him record.
"This is Captain Dixon of the Nation of Central ship Fastfoot. I am holding station forward along your entry corridor with Captain Janet Irish of the vessel Spring Moon. We have intercepted your Cruiser Indianapolis commanded by Captain Mahoney and his two escorts. They have been transported to the gas giant spin-ward in system at about eleven light hours. This is an inhabited system with a widespread population on a living world and space facilities. You are not free to enter or traverse at will. Captain Mahoney refused to voluntarily come to system rest and I disabled his vessel. A hostile alien vessel in pursuit of them was destroyed. If you wish to make a reply within two minutes, the drone transmitting this message will record it and courier it to us. If you start a burn to join your countrymen around the gas giant, which is named Albert, you will not be molested. Any aliens in pursuit of you will be my problem with which to deal."
"There, I think that covers the essentials," Dixon said. "I'm sending the new drone in with a few seconds overlap, so we don't miss anything. Ah, here we go."
"This is Captain Aiza of the North American Heavy Cruiser Calgary. I'd certainly need some proof for such outrageous claims. I'm not prepared to surrender my command on a tall tale. I've lost the destroyer Walker to alien attack. Where the devil are you? I keep seeing weird mixed jump emissions in front of us."
"Alas, nothing can ever be simple," Dixon said.
"My dear fellow, I need to prove nothing to you. Simply look down your entry vector and tell me where the drive signatures of your other ships or the aliens are? Your brothers at arms are orbiting the gas giant. The alien is an expanding cloud of plasma. I believe you jumped inside the wave front of its destruction and missed the event. I don't really want or need your surrender. You are not under arrest. I just want you to accept simple traffic instructions to proceed to the gas giant. It's our system and I thought we asked quite nicely. If you refuse, and are as obstinate an ass as Captain Mahoney, I'll put a hole through your engineering spaces and then I'll ask your surrender. I'm not of a temperament to beg, nor so bloody minded I want to make you an expanding ball of plasma. Now be a good fellow and tell me you are both burning for the gas giant or I'm going to ding your pretty ship."
"There, and sent. I hope I set the proper tone."
"Loosey, for you it was positively diplomatic," Janet assured him.
"We are accepting traffic instructions," Captain Aiza said very carefully. "Do I need to contact local control around the gas giant?"
"There aren't any local control areas," Dixon said. "We run the whole system with central real time scan, but after we deal with the aliens we'll be along and help you sort out if you want to press on or need help to return home. I'll see they know you are coming."
"Thank you, Aiza out and maneuvering."
The system scan showed the vector arrows on the two vessels changing.
"Amazing, I think he was attempting politeness," Dixon said. "Janet dear, would you pop a messenger drone in on his friends and tell them he's coming? That used up about a month's worth of chit-chat for me."
"OK, no need to follow sending that message. Then nothing new happens for about ten minutes," Heather said. "I'll go forward."
"Multiple entries, Janet said, "too close to number."
"Um-hmm," Dixon said, unsurprised. "They have good clocks to jump that close."
"Want to do anything differently with this batch?" Janet asked.
"Why not? Let's see what it takes to rattle them," Dixon said.
"Your privilege," Janet said. "I was never one to taunt a bear."
"I am the bear," Dixon asserted. "I'm going to do a random walk of jumps around them thirty light seconds out, and ping them hard. But to avoid endless lectures about risk taking I'll send a drone to do it. When it has sat there twenty seconds I'll move it again. Perhaps we'll get some clues about their way of thinking." You could hear Dixon's smile in his voice.
"How many drones do you have left?" Janet asked.
"Four, were you looking to borrow one?" Dixon inquired politely.
"I have three. Why don't I send you two and you can walk all six of them around them at different intervals and maybe have a couple shout at them to stop?"
"Janet, that just doesn't sound like you. Have you been around me so long you've been corrupted? I like it."
"It is flashy and rude, isn't it? Sending two bot drones over to you now. Do it please."
"Ah thank you, a moment please, checking the programming. I don't want to lose any more of these drones. OK, looks solid, initiating," Dixon told her.
On the screen icons appeared and then changed color to show they'd jumped out, until they started to overlap and Dixon told the display to drop marking previous locations. The alien ships fired a steady barrage of beam weapons at the targets. After several minutes of missing they started shooting every direction at random, trying to catch one emerging.
"Well, that's novel, but as likely to work as shooting your pistol at the moon," Dixon said. "Let see if they have good computers and fleet weapons control. They fire too fast for biological responses, but if they can tie their ships together to fight as a unit it would tend to indicate they've fought some serious fleet actions against other groups of ships."
"How are you going to do that?" Janet asked.
"I'm getting one of the drones ready to jump in exactly between two of the ships. They're pretty tight so I'm only going to leave it there emitting for about ten milliseconds. OK, ready. Let's see how they respond."
An icon winked into existence briefly in the midst of the alien formation. The two ships in line with it immediately shot each other with beam weapons.
"Oh my, this is absolutely an amateur hour performance," Dixon said. "I'm suspending the ones harassing them to see how they deal with this."
The undamaged ship started braking hard, but before it pulled very far away from the other two, they both launched missiles on it. Then, after they watched it die, they both self destructed.
"It would seem their overriding directive is never to be captured, or leave anything for others to analyze of them or their ships," Janet said.
"Yes," Dixon agreed. "I'd say they either had a horrible, horrible experience with others capturing them, or they are all mentally ill by Human standards."
"Or both. I don't ever want to find a world of these creatures. I'd be afraid the entire world would commit suicide as soon as they saw they were found, and I wouldn't want that on my conscience, even if they are crazy."
"Let's go talk to the Earthies," Dixon proposed. "I shall offer to grapple the Indianapolis and run it back to Earth, since I put it out of commission."
"Do you need me?" Janet questioned.
"There are five of them together again. They may get brave and do something foolish."
"You have a point," she agreed. "I'll come along and stay back, out of beam range."
"There isn't much more of interest," Heather said. "The Earthies, already somewhat sobered by their own experience, asked what happened to the aliens. Captain Dixon supplied them his log record of the entire encounter, including his interaction with them. He felt it would encourage them not to trespass our territory again, and be much more effective than sending them back with just their eyewitness testimony to offer back home. Of course their own logs, limited to what they could see with speed of light lag would have been hopelessly missing vital information and outright confusing.
"He also added a warning, in his usual blunt language, that if they showed up again in force he'd assume them hostile and waste little time or breath on them since they now knew the system was owned and closed to them. He made a point that he expected that to be issued as updates in their hazards to navigation."
"They might censor the first part of the record," Sally speculated. "Just erase the log up until the second set of aliens."
When people from both groups looked surprised she explained. "I'm a banker. I'm qualified to do a forensic audit. I'm very familiar with how people commit fraud, familiar with their convoluted thinking."
"They might do that," Heather agreed. "But to do that they'd have to either edit portions of what Dixon said or eliminate all his remarks and just present the truncated log with no remarks. That would look suspicious."
"Then I suspect his remarks were calculated that way," Sally said, "not fortuitous."
"I'm not sure Captain Dixon ever says anything uncalculated. This was, as he intimated, a lot of speech for him," Heather said, with a wry twist to her expression. "He and Janet are of a rank. If you sense she deferred to him it is because when they run exercises he leaves the other naval commanders crying foul and insisting nobody else has such a devious, cunning mind. So they tend to respect him. They're extremely happy he's on their side."
"We don't know anyone like that," Lee said, accusing eyes darting towards Gordon.
"So We have heard," Heather admitted. The way she held a word and shifted the emphasis to fall back into the plural was very interesting.
Chapter 26
"This entirely explains why the Earthies are careful not to directly challenge you," Lee said. "It isn't a mystery if you've seen that video. They'd be fools to argue with you over any substantive issues, knowing they can't fight you."
"This just reduces the risk they'll fight," Heather said. "Some of their politicians are fools and will order their military to do the impossible despite any protests, because they don't have any depth of understanding how things work, and can engage in magical thinking."
When Lee didn't argue but looked skeptical Heather didn't let it pass.
"I need you to believe this . . . is at least possible. I'll tell you something our intelligence services discovered to illustrate it.
"During your war with North America, when you destroyed the Cruiser St Louis and captured her drop shuttles, the North American government issued orders to the ranking admiral in orbit, an Admiral Vicks, to proceed to Derfhome and bomb Red Tree and any other Derf clan that didn't bend the knee. Vicks called for every reactor injector on his battle plate to be brought to him and damaged all of them with a hammer. He told his staff he wouldn't follow an order to bombard a civilian population. Then he ordered his two escort cruisers to keep anyone else from breaking orbit to follow those orders. Indeed, to fire upon them if necessary to accomplish that. Say what you will, he wouldn't do what your Mothers were willing to do."
"You're right. I don't find them perfectly analogous," Lee said. "As far as he knew then, Admiral Vicks was not faced with the complete destruction of his nation, and the Mothers were not going to attack civilian populations unless Red Tree was treated that way first."
"I do see there is a shade of difference," Heather admitted.
Gordon did a little cough of disbelief. "If national survival is not such a terribly important consideration, does this mean you'll be noble and contribute your superior drive to everyone? I figured you are selfishly keeping that secret because it's the only lever you have for your own survival."
"We won't," Heather said, flatly. "Jeff is the holder of that secret, and I doubt he'd release it if I ordered him to do so. It would be national suicide at this time."
"I can believe your story but not the conclusion of equivalence," Lee allowed. "What does it matter if I believe it or not?"
"Because I want you to realize you are getting something of value for us to support you. It isn't a risk free gift we offer at no hazard. Therefore I want something in return."
"Of course you do. That's reasonable. We're the weaker partner here at this time so speak plainly. What do we have to offer, that you want? I'll give it to you if I can."
"Jeff is supposedly convinced you may not be able to develop a drive like ours, or even a similar technology. I look at the history of invention and am convinced you'll succeed eventually. I want your word your Mothers won't let the Earthies have it. Not now. Not until we agree it won't unleash a catastrophe on all of us. That's my largest concern."
"It's not the Mothers' to give, or even the Exploratory Association's to give yet. As I said, I'm negotiating for them, and myself. I'm personally funding and directing the research. I have not involved the Mothers or drawn funds from the fleet accounts to date. I'm in a similar position to Jeff. If they knew I held the tech and insisted I release it I would not. Likely I'd see to a change of administration," Lee said ominously. That made Gordon stir, because that was traditionally a male prerogative.
"And I have no trouble with that request at all. Deny Earth? I'll throw in Japan and Fargone for free until I think long and hard on what I'd be doing there. I think the technology loose on either world would quickly find its way back to Earth. They simply don't have a tight group, with narrow enough common interests, to keep a secret like your peers or like my close people," Lee said.
"That's a relief," Heather said. "A better agreement than what you said before, a pact to agree to all negatives. To just stay isolated from each other. I'm willing to send our representative and protector to Derfhome for that promise alone. Let me have Dakota print a hard copy document between me, signing Kingdom of Central for everything, your chop on behalf of all the shareholders of the Exploration Association, the Mothers of Red Tree seal, and your personal signature or chop, whatever you use, to guarantee mutual aid and support where possible, and agreeing to respect each other's claims in the heavens, support each other and offer mutual aid where possible, and not release the secret of gravitational quantum drives when known to third parties before getting an agreement from the others to do so. Will you put your Mother's chop and your personal one on such a document?"
"You're offering a treaty with a full balance of equality all around?" Lee asked carefully, because she could present that to the Mothers with no shame.
"Yes. As a signatory to a three party contract, we also apply all the terms equally. I'm willing to credit and assume you will figure out the drive details in a reasonable amount of time. Jeff doesn't agree, but he was unwilling to wager a single Solar that you wouldn't. The Mothers and the Exploratory Association may not be doing research yet, but I'm asking you to bind them on the matter too. It's the key issue to our agreement. You have the Mother's authority. Can you bind the Exploratory Association by your word?"
"Yes, I'm the largest shareholder and officer," Lee assured her. But was a little overwhelmed and Lee was confused. "This is almost like me being sworn to you isn't it?"
Heather smiled. "Not at all, my subjects are not my equals. We are swearing to each other."
The enormity of it hit Lee and she was speechless for a moment. Heather was swearing to her personally. She would be equals on documents with a queen and the Mothers. She just hoped the Mothers wouldn't regard it as arrogance.
"Yes, have Dakota prepare that and I'll sign it," Lee said, the words heavy and unreal. "The public and Earth in particular should be served notice there is a new arrangement."
"Agreed, but let us keep the details to ourselves for now, and just notify the Earthies of the aspects which are their concern," Heather suggested.
"True, they don't need to hear us speaking about drive tech," Lee said. "So have Dakota prepare a press release too."
"You take my point exactly," Heather said and took a moment aside to instruct Dakota. When Dakota went off to prepare the documents Heather turned back to them. Gabriel was waiting for that to speak.
"If you are sure now that such a protective delegation will be sent, I would volunteer to be your first ambassador," Gabriel volunteered.
"No," Lee said. That sent a stir through the room.
Heather looked surprised. "I thought you two hit it off just fine. Did something happen to put you in . . . dislike?"
"No, not really, but I want an ambassador I'm sure will be impartial," Lee said.
"Has something happened to prejudice him against you, or yours?" Heather continued.
"No, quite the contrary is the difficulty," Lee said in a carefully neutral voice.
"Oh . . . "
"I'll withdraw my offer then," Gabriel said, poker faced.
"It was never accepted anyway," Heather reminded him. "I'd already determined that the Foys are going. So there was no possibility."
"You already knew who you'd be sending as an ambassador? So why all the needless talk-talk if it was a done deal?" Lee demanded.
"Far from a done deal," Heather denied. "You could have easily killed the whole thing and gone home empty handed for all your effort, or quite literally dead if the catering service hired better assassins."
"In fairness I doubt if they qualified him for that," Gordon said.
"One hopes, but point taken."
"So, we scored a peer for our ambassador," Gordon said, looking for a bright side.
"Don't make a big deal of that to Fargone," Heather begged. "I don't want to have to lose another peer to an ambassadorship. They could demand equal treatment."
"When is this going to happen?" Lee wondered.
"Well, not to rub it in that we're faster, but small as it is, Eileen's ship we have prepared has room for both Victor and you if you don't mind snug. You can beat everybody back if you want and Derfhome will be quickly protected and the Foys can set up shop."
"I'm a spacer, snug is fine," Lee said, "room to get to an itch is a luxury. I accept."
"Let me look at what Dakota prepared," Heather said. "I had her working on it so she should have been able to flesh it out quickly." Apparently she had forwarded the press release to Heather's pad already. She sat and read it unhurried.
"I think this is a good balance. Less details than I would have been tempted to stuff in it, stronger words to make intent clear. See what you think," Heather told Lee and passed the actual pad instead of sending the file over, and Lee read it aloud.
"The Kingdom of Central, by the Word of the Sovereign, wishes to announce She will be placing diplomatic missions, with a Voice of the Sovereign, in the star systems of Fargone and Derfhome. While resident as guests they will contribute to the system security of our friends. They intend to promote and preserve cultural ties, encourage trade and lend support to the new relationship of Human interest systems with the Badger civilization at the other end of their new claims string. Protection for the claim systems of this new trade route will be made available from these forward resources. Military vessels are informed to seek clearance before making port calls in these systems, or in the Beyond as far as the Badger civilization. Released to Earth news-nets 6-11-2197. Propagated by ship mail to all open worlds in the Human sphere."
"If one may suggest," Talker offered, "it would ease my future dealing with my own people and please Gordon if you said, The civilization of the Badgers, Bills and associated races."
"Pleasing Gordon is a concern?" Heather asked, raising her eyebrows. "If you want, that's how you'll be described."
Dakota came back in holding hard copies and stood back waiting.
"One is aware you are very powerful," Talker said, with careful respect. "But Gordon has dominated our contact with the Human sphere, and we sleep much easier if he is happy."
"I'm impressed," Heather allowed, looking at Gordon. "You have an entire star spanning civilization concerned with keeping you happy, and except for this one," she indicated Talker, "they have no idea I even exist. Should you be a signatory?"
"I'm bound by my Mothers. I'm sure your Voice can continue to establish the value of your friendship with the other embassy personnel who are with Talker at his mission. And we certainly hope we'll have continuing contact both ways from Derfhome for them to meet others From Central. You will become known through their actions," Gordon pointed out.
"Dear God, he can sound smooth if he wants to," Heather said. "Dakota, add to that press notice that the Voice to Derfhome will be Lady Eileen and her husband Mr. Foy."
Dakota's eyebrows jumped at the honorific, but she said nothing.
"Also, since he declares himself equal to the job, Gabriel can have the ambassadorship to Fargone as my Voice, and whomever he wishes to nominate. I won't OK your snatching away somebody vital who I need," she warned him.
"Eric Pennington my lady," Gabriel requested.
"Granted, and a good choice for your aide," Heather commended him.
"I'm missing something, if you wouldn't mind clarifying," Sally requested.
At Heather's go ahead nod she continued. "You never addressed the end of the matter with the aliens. They will easily suicide if there appears the least chance they will have their nature and their technology exposed to another. You said you now think they aren't these Centaur people the Little Fleet found. Surely you investigated them further?"
"Yes. Very cautiously," Heather said. "We didn't want a fight, or to provoke this self destructive tendency. We went to the system where they and the North Americans first met. We didn't ping it with radar or make a showy deep entry. We jumped to the system edge at angles to the system's plane, and coasted through with passive sensors. Finding nothing we examined small bodies in the system. We found some indications of space based activity. It would have probably escaped a casual examination, if we hadn't known there was something to be found. If there were others than these four ships they vacated the system and took almost every trace with them.
"This provoked us to start a survey of systems along a line back to Earth. That survey is still expanding and will be ongoing for some time. North America seemed to have backed off exploring deep in that entire quadrant after meeting hostiles who were an even match for them. That didn't make us sad, and then when Gordon here created such a sudden shortage of North American warships they seem to have backed off military exploration until they build more ships, which will have to wait until they rebuild an entire naval shipyard."
Dakota stepped forward and laid the sheets down for Heather, and stepped away again. Heather called Lee forward and they leaned over the documents and spoke softly. Everyone else kept silent, aware they had no input and were merely allowed to be present at a significant event. When they both nodded in agreement, they forced their hankos on all three copies. The Mother's seal had to be inked and pressed as it wasn't self printing. Lee suddenly wondered just how old the seal was? She's have to ask. Dakota was still working on her hand pad, so Heather rolled the hard copies up in little tubes herself, and gave two copies to Lee. It hit her all over again that she had a private copy as a party to a treaty.
Dakota had been working. "Does that look good?" Heather asked of the revised release, nodding at the pad Lee held. She didn't read aloud from the tablet this time, but looked.
"Seems fine to me. I appreciate the brevity too," Lee agreed.
"Then we have a deal. Dakota, publish that, please. Give copies to everybody here."
Dakota didn't leave, but touched a few places on her own screen and it was done. Lee passed Heather's machine back to her.
"Do you think there will be much reaction from Earth?" Talker wondered. "I'm still not sure I understand your species well enough, especially the Earth variant, to predict what their reaction will be."
"Honestly, I think it will either be silent acceptance or war," Heather said, "That again is why we have avoided making an issue of everything, their binary responses."
"You frighten us at times," Talker admitted. "I remember when the person we were negotiating with made a slip of the tongue and revealed Gordon had blown up a small moon testing weapons. He kept saying it was a small moon, and other things to try to dismiss and minimize it. My companion was even more shocked than me. The more this fellow tried to wave it away as inconsequential the deeper he was terrified."
"Yeah, sometimes you just need to say 'Oops,' and move on," Heather counseled, "If you find yourself in a hole, at least stop digging."
"Ah, English. You never stop learning it." Talker made a notation on his pad.
"I've about reached the limit of my productive ability for one session," Heather announced. "With an embassy on Derfhome we can provide faster travel for future talks. Is there anything else that needs said before we send the mission to Derfhome off and chase the rest of you out to make your own way home at your leisure?"
"Since I am leaving quickly, would you make sure Sally gets the Life Extension treatments we promised before she has to deal with the banking for which she is here?" Lee asked.
"Dakota? See that somebody does that. Sometimes it's so good to be Sovereign so you can go crash and not have to deal with things yourself. Anybody else?" she demanded, a little louder. "Then the party is over. Don't slip on the mess getting out the door." Heather said, and headed for her private rooms.
Both parties filed out the entry the caterers had used. Shashi gathered Lee's party to guide them back to their rooms. Eileen and Victor came with them. A few of the others got in a cart, but most took off walking down the corridor. Gabriel stopped and looked hard at Lee before he turned and joined them, but said nothing.
"I hope you haven't made an enemy there," Gordon said softly to Lee.
Not low enough, Shashi heard. "He has a century of learning not to cross Heather," Shashi said. "There are a few I'd worry would do something stupid, but not that one. If Heather was worried about it she wouldn't have sent him to your general neighborhood at Fargone. She'd have created a sudden need for him to be at the other end of Human exploration."
The Foys hadn't heard Gordon, but Shashi spoke normally, not lowering her voice, and they'd seen Gabriel stare. It wasn't hard for them to infer what had been said. A knowing glance went between them but they didn't offer their own opinion if they had one.
"Thank you for your reassurance," Gordon said, and resolved to watch out anyway.
By the time they got back to their rooms there was a cart sitting by their door. The Foys took seats, saying they had no need to come in. Lee grabbed the few things she had in their rooms, hugged Gordon and Sally and briefly held Talkers hand.
When she turned to leave Ha-bob-bob-brie was standing there and she had no idea what would be an acceptable gesture of thanks to him. She'd never seen him touch hands much less hug. So she said as much to him, seeking guidance.
"We are more cerebral that way," Ha-bob-bob-brie assured her. "Even in a threesome the Hinth only interact with the nest-sitter and not to each other, apart. No tactile gesture is needed to demonstrate your thanks. I assume it from your nature."
"There isn't room to come with me. Are you distressed to stop guarding me?" Lee asked.
"Not at all, my dream is played out. I'm not needed now. Who knows if I will experience similar necessity in the future? But it was interesting having a dream. I have to wonder why I didn't for . . . other events, but I've never heard of anyone having two!"
"I have them most nights, but I don't always remember them when I wake," Lee said.
"Then I hope they are different." Ha-bob-bob-brie said. "I'd find that unbearable."
"Then take my sincere thanks," Lee said, and left to join the Foy feeling slightly uncomfortable, because even if Ha-bob-bob-brie was happy, she missed a tactile leave-taking.
* * *
The Foys weren't exactly like anyone she'd ever known. Victor had a moustache. Lee was sure she'd seen one before, in video, but not in real life. Full beards with a moustache yes, but it seemed odd to shave off most of it, and leave that one little patch. Well, in his case not so little. It flowed to each side rather full and ample. She tried not to stare.
Unlike Gabriel, who answered every question with another, they were happy to talk about their life on Earth and how they struggled to get the means to lift to Home and eventually on to Central. It was fascinating and horrifying story at the same time.
The flight was so short with their sort of star drive that she'd have liked to have had time to hear more of their story, and said so. They laughed and said they expected to be running the embassy for a few years and there was no reason she couldn't visit or have dinner with them until she got sick of their stories.
They stopped and deployed their own drones on the system edge before proceeding to Derfhome. Lee forced herself not to ask a bunch of questions about how they worked and what they could do, that they likely wouldn't answer. The fact they put them all out at once, and they would position themselves, said they were advanced. She couldn't even tell how many they deployed. But she felt free to share one thought with them.
"If a large force left Earth on a Derfhome vector I'd expect your people on the Moon would skip ahead of them and warn you," Lee said.
"Yes, but they probably know that, and may send single ships off on other routes and assemble them to come here from a different direction," Victor explained.
That made sense to Lee, if Earthies could be subtle.
They had questions of their own, and it became quickly obvious they expected her to help them pick a location and guide to what was appropriate for a building. They informed her they had a storage capsule grappled to their vessel with their personal possessions, trade goods and even some furniture for their private quarters.
When they arrived at Derfhome station she suggested they book into the Old Hotel below in Derfhome City. The Foys seemed surprised she didn't have a home of her own. They went to dinner on station and it was her turn to describe the Keep at Red Tree and how she took a room anytime she wanted there, but never maintained one or kept her things there between visits. It seemed odd to them, but perfectly natural to the nomadic way she'd been raised. They seemed amused that she had a condo on Fargone she never used, but no home here.
They surprised her by leaving their ship in trailing orbit from the station. Derfhome station wasn't expensive. She'd have thought they would just leave it docked and negotiate a long-term contract. With nobody aboard it seemed better to leave it on the station where they had security cameras on your docking collar constantly. In orbit anybody could approach and mate up to their lock. Eileen smiled, and assured her the ship could take care of itself. If they had a fancy AI like Gabriel used, she'd never seen evidence of it, but she let it go.
Once the seed of the idea was planted she determined she'd be researching how to build a place of her own, or buy something while she helped them do the same. Naturally she'd make full use of the Bank of Derfhome. The Foys liked the local idea when she explained that a bank was expected to be a concierge service.
They took the commercial shuttle down from the station, and there was an awkward moment when she asked for a suite and they kindly said they'd rather have their own rooms. It was a different culture and she'd never stayed separately from traveling companions.
* * *
The next morning at breakfast they seemed fine, she must not have offended them terribly.
"Don't you have to report in to the Mothers and inform them how your mission went?" Eileen asked. Victor, Lee was finding out wasn't all that chatty most of the time.
"I do, but they never get in a rush. If I take a week or two to show up nobody is going to think a thing of it," Lee said confidently. "Let's take time to get a site picked and maybe start them building your embassy, and when I return to Red Tree I can take you along to present you to the Mothers."
"First things first. We want to open a bank account and present a letter of transfer from the bank of Ceres. The Three suggested they haven't done business with the Bank of Derfhome so they are sending funds through the Bank of Ceres. We can try to establish a relationship for the Solar Bank later," Eileen said.
"There are other banks if you don't want to automatically use the same as us," Lee said.
"No, that's fine. We took it as a recommendation Gordon chose them," Eileen said. Victor gave one of his rare nods to show he was in agreement. The bank was less than a kilometer away so they walked, the Foys commenting on things that were different to them.
At the bank when Lee walked in the greeter knew her by name and led them to a private room with a glass wall looking over the main floor of the bank. Lee was amused to see the same group of older investors still occupied a table drinking coffee and watching the screens for investment news. The greeter introduced herself as Honey. Lee suspected that name was chosen from the color of her coat.
"Would you rather the glass be set for your privacy?" Honey asked, Her hand poised to switch it from clear to mirrored.
"No, I enjoy watching the old codgers get all excited every time something breaks on the screen," Lee said. Honey looked over her shoulder at them and just rolled her eyes.
"May I bring you some refreshment?" she offered.
"I'd like a mocha, and if you have some, cookies to nibble on," Lee said. Breakfast wasn't that distant a memory, but her new metabolism did run fast.
"Just black coffee, if you would please," Victor requested.
"Do you have tea or the local equivalent?" Eileen asked.
"A lot of the local teas are toxic to Humans, just so you know, but I'll bring you a safe variety to try. Would you prefer a very strong flavor or something delicate?"
"Strong is fine with me," Eileen said.
Honey seemed to approve of that by her vigorous nod and ducked out the door.
Eileen did not expect a full English style tea service with lemon, sugar, honey and cream. She didn't express any opinion, but she had a second cup.
There was a tray of cookies as Lee requested, and tiny sandwiches and muffins. Victor seemed to approve. Lee remembered they likely had boosted metabolisms too. They hadn't held back at breakfast.
"I have to talk to Jeff sometime," Eileen said. "There's a phrase Earth system bankers use, 'Full Service Banking'. I have to tell him they have no clue at all."
Darius came in and Lee introduced the Foys and explained their mission. He accepted the letter of credit, and asked just a few questions about what services they needed and how much they wanted to be able to draw upon from their account. The more they tied it up the higher the return, or if they just wanted it to be held in safekeeping and immediately available they'd be charged a small fee. Lee noticed he never mentioned a number or displayed anything she could see to expose the Foy's data. He did it without being obvious or rude.
Eileen suggested they start having access to half their money until they learned what local costs were and how much they'd need to give as deposits to local tradesmen. Victor listened and then just nodded, but the way Eileen stopped and gave him her whole attention convinced Lee it wasn't perfunctory, and he was really a full partner.
Darius stuck a couple cards in his pad and then gave them to the Foys, encouraging them to activate the taster pad now rather than risk carrying them around unlinked to their DNA. They did so and he informed them how they might use them as a key with their pad to access their accounts remotely.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Darius finally asked.
When the Foys didn't have anything else, Lee spoke up. "They're going to buy or build an embassy. I'm going to take them to the Badger embassy, and suggest it's a good area. They may end up elsewhere, but would you investigate properties available within say ten kilometers of them and send them to our pads?"
"Certainly," Darius agreed standing up confident they were done. "That's distant. Would you like me to call a cab for you?"
"Yes thank you," Lee agreed.
By the time they walked to the front door the cab was waiting. Eileen stopped and looked back. Lee had no idea why, and wondered if she forgot something.
"Do you know what their hours are?" Eileen wondered.
"Standard Derf hours, twenty a day, four thousand seventeen standard seconds and a fraction long. Did you think they'd use Terran hours?" Lee asked, mystified.
"No, I mean, when does the bank open and close?" Eileen asked.
"Why would they ever close?" Lee asked.
The Foys just looked at each other and laughed. They never did answer her.
"This is huge," Eileen said in the cab.
"Not if you're a Derf. If we had Gordon along you'd think it cozy. Take us to the Badger embassy," Lee said, and swiped her card past the pay port.
"It's going to take months to adjust," Eileen decided. Victor nodded and smiled. "We have our own aircar in the container with our things, but we really should buy a ground car to use locally."
"Yes, you'll want to," Lee agreed, "because landing spots are very limited in the city." She was starting to wonder how big that shipping container was. She'd never had a view of it.
They got down the road a few kilometers, and everybody's pad alerted them. Lee looked at her pad. She always had it set to privacy mode.
"Ah, Darius sent us a list of properties and map," Lee said. She didn't ask if theirs was the same. Anything else would be too big a coincidence. But attached to hers was a note.
Thank you for the new business. A finder's fee of 50k/Ceres$ has been added to your accounts. We appreciate your business. Darius for the Bank of Derfhome.
The Foys must have made a substantial deposit, Lee decided.
* * *
Singer was happy to meet the Foys, and took them into the embassy courtyard. They had a good start on establishing a decorative garden. It would be beautiful when it matured. Singer inquired after Talker and was delighted to hear they had a limited treaty and were going to protect the Derfhome system. He noted the hour and implored them earnestly to have lunch. It would have been rude to turn him down.
It was about halfway through lunch before Lee realized something. As dear as Talker was to her, Singer was much more social. She'd seen Gordon do this same thing, cheerfully expound on trivia, and make small talk to establish a relationship, without really saying much of anything. Schmoozing he called it. Lee wondered if Singer was aware that his targets and potential new neighbors were centenarians or near to it? She had no idea if Talker had briefed him. But she suspected, from her own experience with Lunarians, that they would be very hard for him to manipulate.
They talked about local building practices. Derf had no zoning laws but very set customary practices by local craft guilds. Small quakes were common, and larger ones to be expected within the useful life of a building. Five hundred years of expected service was not unusual. They had customary joints and sizes in posts and beams. Roofs floated instead of being attached. They were suspended on brackets that sat in a cross notch, allowing the roof to move with a quake. Power tools were quickly adapted, but the traditional forms retained. If you wanted to build to alien specs with metal hangers and joints you were welcome to do so, on your own. The locals wanted no part of it, because they had designs that worked.
Singer asked if the Foys would like a video of the embassy construction? They accepted that gladly. After lunch he led them up on the roof where there was a walk and an awning with chairs. The embassy was on a hill, and the view very pleasant.
"There's a bare hill over there," Singer pointed. "I have no idea if it is available, but it would be great to have you for neighbors."
"I don't know," Victor looked at it intently."It's rather close. We like to party on weekends. When we set up the speakers out on the patio and dance until the sun comes up some people don't appreciate it. There are the fireworks on our national holidays, and blinking lights at Halloween and Christmas. We like to run some carols over speakers. Then there's the question of whether the property is deep enough for a decent length shooting range," he said, pointing off into the indefinite distance.
Singer froze, but the effect was ruined when Lee started giggling.
"I believe the English idiom is, You got me," Singer admitted.
"Now seriously, the point is you hardly know us," Victor said, "what makes you think we would be so desirable as neighbors?"
"Talker said you have really advanced tech, so I figure the safest place on the whole planet is going to be tucked in close under the umbrella of protection over your own embassy," Singer said, hand describing an imaginary shield over the distant hill.
"Singer, your reasoning is good," Lee said, "but their tech is so advanced any hostiles will be stopped far short of the planet."
"One may hope," Eileen said, making no promises.
"Oh, that's good too, all the better, but if you should buy it anyway, a very effective strategy in my culture is to invite all the neighbors in when you have a party so they can't complain."
Victor looked astonished. "Singer, I think we might get along just fine."
* * *
They called another cab. Lee looked intently at her pad, and the Foy's didn't want to interrupt her. A couple kilometers down the road she turned it and showed them the screen. The bare hill Singer had recommended was shown in an aerial view, with property lines imposed. It was for sale.
* * *
Eileen was quiet for awhile, thinking."We're going to have to adjust our strategy a little," she finally said. Victor nodded. Lee had no idea what Eileen was going to say next. If Victor knew he had to be a mind reader as far as Lee was concerned.
"We're used to putting up a new house or small utility building in two days, three max. I think Derf architecture is dramatic and reasonably comfortable, but so slow! We don't have the bots a colony world uses anyway, so we might as well make a virtue of necessity and celebrate the local design. I sense it will just look good, and they will appreciate the money entering the local economy," Eileen said. "It will buy us some local goodwill."
"But we should rent a place," Victor said. "Or even buy something modest. I don't want to live in a hotel, not even in a nice suite of rooms. You don't have privacy and I wouldn't trust stuff like our com gear to their security."
"It's sort of amusing, Talker thought it very speedy to have the building shell up in mere weeks instead of months. The big difference being how many people the Derf apply to the job site compared to Badgers. But you need your own security whether in a hotel room or a rental or your embassy once built," Lee stated absolutely.
"We're new at this game," Eileen complained. "We have no previous Voices acting as ambassadors to ask how to do things. Heather didn't give us much instruction, nothing in the way of details, beyond protect the system and make Central look good if possible. If that's impossible we're at least to try not to piss everybody off. She values initiative, and never micro-manages. Who would we hire? Who is reliable locally, and we have no idea what local custom is. Do the Mothers allow armed security? If it was the Moon I'd have some idea."
"It sounds like you need a complete review of how things work on Derfhome. The Mothers make laws by decree, and they are published, but they exercise very little control over the areas outside their clan territory, including the trade towns. Each has built up its own customs depending mostly on trade association rules, and agreements between guilds. Didn't you get a briefing or search for material on Derfhome customs and history?" Lee asked.
"I don't think you have any idea how sparse such information is," Eileen said. "A great deal of what's public is from the first couple years after contact, and a great deal of it is contradictory. Have you looked at the literature? It's mostly from academics, Xenologists, not business people. There's nothing in the way of guides for tourists, and no sources for legal matters. You'd think from the web nothing much has changed since contact."
"I'll look at the web fraction and tell you what I think of what's there," Lee promised. "But you shouldn't have to pay to hire security. I'll ask the Mothers to take care of it. You're doing them a service and they have lots of labor available. The duty will probably be used as a training exercise for their military."
"But are they capable security? Not just a ceremonial guard to stand at the front entry, but people who understand electronics and data security?" Eileen worried.
"Eileen, remember they wiped out an invasion of Space Marines with a radiation enhanced nuke, and fought the USNA space navy with superior Fargone and New Japan weaponry," Lee reminded her. "They aren't savages with axes and spears. Although you might be shocked what they can do with an axe. The Mothers own a destroyer and have a small but very professional and effective military."
"In the abstract I knew about your war, but we still sort of expected everything to be quaint and old fashioned. Having automated cabs and the way our bank does business was a shock. We do see a lot of Earth news, propaganda really. I guess even though I know how unfairly they treat us, some of it still prejudiced me," Eileen admitted.
"And that's moderate compared to what Mars says about the Derf," Victor interjected.
"I saw a little of that when I was on Earth," Lee said. "Those people are raving nuts."
Victor just nodded.
"Then I suggest you ask about rentals or buying a small house for right now," Lee said. "That's the kind of thing I'd call our bank and let them handle."
"You said they never close," Eileen remembered. "So I can call them right now and maybe they'll have something to look at in the morning?"
"You can call them in the middle of the night, but I suspect the sort of people who deal in real estate have more limited hours, and the bank could only leave messages late. I bet you're looking at stuff by lunch though. I've been thinking," Lee said. "I have contacts at the University. I'll ask them to see what can be had in English about recent Derf history. I bet it exists, but just would never be promulgated into the Earth system."
They were back at their hotel. "Message us when you're done and we'll go out to supper and compare notes?" Eileen suggested.
"Works for me," Lee said.
Chapter 27
Born looked surprised and had to shift mental gears when Lee asked him if he had any contacts in the History Department. Born took a basic history course years ago and didn't even know if that instructor still taught, he might have retired by now. Born promised to inquire if there were any texts written in English, and recommended machine translations, but Lee was skeptical. She usually referred to AIs as Artificial Stupids.
Born promised to investigate and was surprised she wanted an answer tomorrow. Things didn't happen that quickly at the University, but she was his patron, so he promised to see what he could do. He hoped there was at least something in the library catalog to offer her.
When she started reading what she could find about Derfhome and Derf history in the web fraction they already owned she was confident. After all, they greatly expanded it on the visit to Central. They even bought quite a bit on their last visit to Fargone, because that planet and nation keep certain areas of study up to date, but apparently not Derf history. Everything she knew of Derf history was spoken to her, most of it by Gordon or the Mothers.
The conclusions researchers came to by direct observation were sort of funny, if you discounted the fact they were serious. A lot of their mistakes could have been avoided by simply asking the Derf why something was their custom or how many years it had been since some invention. It reminded Lee very much of what Gwen had said about practicing medicine for Red Tree, when Lee inquired how it was going. She said most doctors should practice veterinary first and then work with people, because the medical schools taught them to disbelieve anything their patients said. They squandered the advantage of a talking patient. History professors seemed to have the same automatic disbelief of oral tradition, and also assigned written Derf history the same status as fairy tales, epics, and the profusion of conflicting sacred texts. In reality, most written Derf history was the record of Mother's decrees, so it amounted to legal documents.
If Lee ever had a chance to interview one of these fellows, she'd like to ask him if he realized his own work would be treated with similar contempt in a century or two? Amusement and disbelief only stretched so far and by the time she should be going to bed Lee was simply angry at the stupidity of it all. If scholarly texts got Derf history so badly wrong could she trust the things she'd learned under her father about Babylon and Assyria as trustworthy? Would an ancient Egyptian be left rolling on the ground in laughter over what was written about them? Was there any reason to believe the recorded rise of European civilization and the Americas were any better for being newer? Well, less so with photography, and then there was video. But even that got creative with proper editing, so that by the middle of the twenty first century video too was easily faked beyond detection.
Eileen called and canceled for dinner. She was tired beyond her expectations.
* * *
The next morning, lo and behold, Born left two texts on Derf history on her pad. Not machine translations, not professional translations, but written in English by the Derf author. Lee was impressed, and happy to have something for the Foys at breakfast.
The Foys were pleased that Darius had a rental and property specialist on call to talk to them first thing. The fellow asked some questions on com and then suggested he pick them up after they finished breakfast to view a property. Lee didn't get to listen in on that, but she was going to go with them.
"This agent, Aeneas, said we could rent a business property with much better physical security," Eileen said. "I explained we wanted to have a residence and he informed us there is no barrier, at least in this city, to having an apartment attached to a business. We expected it to be prohibited, or like in California you could have an apartment over your store, but you had to have a separate entry and no inside access. We expected a lot more Human influence outside the clan areas."
"Much less than you think," Lee assured them. "I stayed up and looked at the web fraction articles about Derfhome, hoping to share them with you. They were garbage. What wasn't propaganda was arrogant projection and anthropomorphizing. Fortunately I have a fellow who does research for me at the University, and he found some better texts for you." She transferred copies to them.
* * *
"I have three more I can show you," Aeneas protested when the Foys accepted the first rental offered. "Don't you want to compare them?"
"We don't want to buy it and live here for decades," Eileen said. "It's just a temporary location until we can build something. It'll do just fine. The enclosed receiving area is perfect. We can park our air car inside. We'd rather not spend the time to look at all of them and weigh the advantages of each place."
"If you give me a deposit I'll post the contract and give you the lock codes," Aeneas said. "If you are building, are you working with someone yet to acquire a lot?" he asked hopefully.
"No, but will you see what you can find out about this property?" Eileen asked, and transferred the plot of the hill they'd received yesterday. "Send us the particulars and we may go walk the property. Lee here wants to take us out of town a bit. We'll be available again in just a couple days. We already have our bank investigating construction people for us."
Aeneas left a happy Derf.
"Let's go see your Mothers," Eileen suggested. "I think I'm more concerned about reporting in to them that you are."
"I could talk to them on com," Lee said, "but what is the urgency? You get the feel for how somebody is reacting to your report better when they aren't framed on a screen that hides the body language. With the Mothers I want to see how the other two react when I'm talking to the First Mum. Talking on com would cut that out entirely."
"I don't trust myself on Derf expressions yet at all," Eileen said.
"The ears say a lot more than with Humans," Lee said. "I remember the first time Brownie found out some Humans can't wiggle their ears. You'd have thought they were crippled."
"I've noticed the claws move," Vic said. "They may not come out, but you can see the digits spread a little. Sometimes you see the actual claw tip. I'm not sure if it is a controllable reflex."
"Depends on the Derf and how badly you scare him," Lee said. "But they have good conscious control. I've seen Gordon open a can of peaches without spilling any, and that's how my ears were pierced."
Victor blinked hard a couple times, picturing that undoubtedly.
"What should we bring?" Eileen asked.
"Your own set of silverware, toilet paper, and your usual toiletries," Lee said. "A step stool is very handy. A couple towels if you like. Derf towels tend to be coarse and big. Other than that just what you'd pack to stay in a hotel a couple days. You might want a serious computer if your hand pads are not up to what you want to do. That's about it."
"No food items?" Vic asked.
"They'll feed you really well, two meals a day. If you need a snack you can usually beg something at the kitchen. Bring your own if you want something special like chocolate or coffee available to you on a whim. At dinner just push your plate away to the center of the table and they'll stop serving you," Lee advised. "Oh, unless there is some emergency, Gordon and I have been avoiding landing with an aircar. It's disruptive and just a bit too fancy. Do you mind landing and walking in a couple kilometers? It's a pretty walk in high country."
Vic and Eileen smiled at each other. "That would be welcome," Vic agreed.
"Then I'll book us for commercial transport in the early morning. That will get us there midday or a little earlier," Lee said. The Foys both nodded their agreement.
* * *
The Foys didn't say anything unkind about Derf aircraft. Theirs had actual propellers, but with complex scimitar shaped blades that nobody would mistake for primitive tech. It still managed to push the Mach very closely. Transonic transport was not only more expensive, it wasn't really a part of Derf culture to hurry that much. There wasn't the time critical sort of business climate with intense trading that made Humans say, 'Time is money'.
"Is this like where you guys lived in California?" Lee asked after the loud aircar got far enough away they could talk normally again.
"Not at all," Vic said. "I can tell they get a lot more rain here. The hills, mountains if you want to call them that, show a lot more rock back home. The really high ones, what I call mountains have snow on them most of the summer. This kind of terrain we'd call alpine meadow back home. Didn't you visit California when you were on Earth?"
"Just LA, and the Mojave desert, and the inside of various detention facilities," Lee said. "I saw much more of Michigan, where my Cousin lived. My parents side of the family went off to California from Michigan, and their people lost track of them. They didn't even know they'd gone to space. Michigan was pretty in its own way, less dramatic than big mountains, but a fresh water lake too big to see across is a wonder. Earth is wasted on the Earthies."
"So we felt, or we wouldn't have left," Vic said. "California was nice before it 'recovered'. They pretty much messed it up again in new ways, once a bunch of new people flooded in from the other states."
"Is that a story you tell?" Lee asked, "or is it private?"
"Most of it can be told, but it's a long story, and Victor hates to abbreviate it at all. You may regret asking," Eileen worried.
"I want the long version," Lee protested. "Do you want to make a start on it?"
"OK. The key event that removed the old way of life in the state was when April bombarded a missile base on the California coast."
"In fairness, you should tell her why she did that," Victor interrupted.
"Do you see why it's going to be such a long story? In the beginning," Eileen started again in an odd theatrical voice Lee took to be a quote.
"Not quite that far back," Victor insisted, in mock irritation, because he was smiling. "Jeff had a ship converted to a floating landing pad, and was dropping to make his first inspection visit after it was in service. Take it from there," Victor invited his wife.
Eileen nodded. "This was out in the South Pacific . . . " she picked the tale back up.
When they were past the saddle by the old fortress and getting down near the flat land around the clan Keep, Eileen was beyond the electricity going out, the ground wave passing that was unlike any earthquake in her story, and her family was starting the long hard trip north. "I'm talked out for now," Eileen said. "The next episode will have to wait a bit."
"Thank you," Lee said. She hadn't asked permission, but was recording this oral history.
Victor didn't offer to pick the tale up, and Lee decided not to ask.
"I expected Red Tree would actually have red trees," Victor said, slightly disappointed.
"It does, off to the west and north. It used to have a fair number right here but the nuke killed them all during the war," Lee said.
"North America bombarded here?" Victor asked looking confused.
"They really didn't give you much background before sending you here," Lee complained.
"I don't think they had much with which to brief us. Nor much time. You were not as big a concern to The Three just a couple months ago. If you didn't gift them with your own records of the war where would they get the details?" Vic asked. "Not from the Earthies for sure!"
"OK, that makes sense. You got bits and pieces, like the negotiations that ended the war and the fact we'd have bombarded them if all else failed. Not every battle and action."
"We got details from Fargone about one battle," Vic said, "and the attack on the shipyard in Earth orbit we knew about obviously. But lots of things that happened off in other systems, sometimes uninhabited systems, we don't know at all."
"I was stuck on Earth and missed a lot of it myself, but got told most of it when I was repatriated. I'll see if Gordon will agree to create an accurate history of it, reconstructed from the logs. But no, the North Americans didn't nuke the Keep here. Red Tree did it themselves. There were four troop shuttles grounded here to take over, and the Great Champion of Red Tree detonated a radiation enhanced weapon over them all when they refused to surrender, and took the lot of them out. Himself too," Lee added in as even a voice as she could manage. "The trees are near as sensitive to radiation as people, so it killed them as well, out several kilometers from the air burst. That very light green color you see on the level ground is from the new ones planted. You'll see the small individual trees when we're much closer. It's mostly the bark that is red. They're very similar to Earth pine trees or other evergreens."
"I am instructed," Victor said in a very serious tone of voice, "that I am dealing with a people who will nuke themselves to kill me."
"To negotiate and accept a surrender was a new thing for them," Lee said, again. "An accommodation I'm afraid the Earthies don't appreciate. The long standing norm among their own was to fight until one side was annihilated and removed from the gene pool, their name gone, and their land taken. But I got the impression it served to reduce wars of adventure or for trivial reasons."
"There's no vehicular traffic," Eileen noticed.
"They own a few vehicles, but everything is arranged for proximity. There are paved paths but they use some pull wagons and a lot of wheelbarrows. It works very well. There isn't enough commerce with the outside world to need trucks. The Keep goes way down and spreads out. This surface building you see is nothing. But almost everything is centralized in it."
"Heh . . . Just like home that way," Vic said.
That surprised Lee, she hadn't thought how similar it was to Central's tunneling.
Garrett was standing outside the main entry in full ceremonial gear, his best enameled armor without modern weapons. Lee was sure that was a special effort for their guests. She was glad she called ahead to tell the Mothers they were coming if it got that treat for them. Garrett didn't pick her up like a doll the way William had, but then he was still growing and had a good two hundred kilo and a few centimeters to catch up, if he ever did. It still choked Lee up to think of William. Garrett did gently take both her hands in his and lean over and not exactly kiss, but give her ear a small nuzzle. That was new too, and welcome. She leaned into it.
"The Mothers are working, but expecting you. Go in and make yourselves welcome," Garrett encouraged them.
That was good. His manner said the Mothers were in a good humor, so they must not have heard anything that displeased them off the news services. By now they should have heard something about Heather's news release. Surely their clipping service forwarded it.
The Mothers were lined up backs to the hearth at the middle table. The First Mum giving an unfortunate Derf a lecture about something while stabbing a single claw into the poor abused table in front of her. By the cant of his ears he was taking it to heart. The Second Mother was just listening to the First dress the fellow down, and the Third Mother was intent on a tablet while someone stood at her elbow waiting for her attention.
The First Mother looked up and seemed happy to see them.
"I've told you three different ways," the First Mother informed the fellow standing before her. "If none of them made any sense to you I'm out of analogies and patience. If you can't make it work, send your assistant to me, because I have some good news for him," she said, making a shooing motion with a true hand to dismiss him.
"Ah, good to have you back. Sit, and introduce your people," she invited with a sweep of the same hand. "We have some time to talk. What can we offer you for refreshment?"
"Thank you, a beer would be nice. It's dark and slightly sweet, but lacks the hops most Human style beers have," Lee informed the Foys.
"I'd like to try that, thanks," Vic said.
"Something hot for me please," Eileen said. It was cool in the room and she had no fur.
Lee introduced Eileen first, drew attention to her ring as a symbol of her authority, and explained what it meant to be a peer. Victor, Lee introduced as Eileen's aide at Derfhome first, and then as her husband. She suggested they address The Mothers by rank and title rather than their long full name, just as most clan members did for convenience sake. She explained they were originally from California in North America but had emigrated to Home and then Central.
"The area in which they lived had a huge upheaval and loss of population after an incident with an armed Home vessel and a missile base on their coast was bombarded. They lived through that and the subsequent loss of order and recovery as a semi-autonomous area. They just made a start on telling me the story in detail on our walk in from your mailbox."
"And you are welcome to tell the tale to us as much as pleases you," the First Mother invited. "We have seen the press release your sovereign put out and welcome your posting. Since you will be here some time, we hope you will visit us regularly so we know each other and can feel more confident how to address each other if difficult questions arise.
"It's interesting. The press release was sent to us directly by Heather, but the same ship mail carried clips of its release by our agency. They had copies from Europe and Asia as well as Brazil and Chile, and the Lunar Republic, but nothing from North America or China. They seem to be censoring it from their populations, as Lee told us," the Mother speculated.
"This is common," Vic acknowledged. A young Derf sat a mug in front of him and another for Lee. They were a smallish Derf mug and only half full, but still at least a full liter.
"It might signal they don't accept it, but yes, they simply ignore a lot of our statements without actively opposing them," Eileen agreed. "Wait until the Martian Republic gets around to commenting on the release. They are taking their time incorporating the maximum nastiness they can compose and waiting for anybody else to accept it so they can denounce them as race traitors at the same time."
"We've read some of their . . . statements. If we thought they had any way to implement their policies it would have been an imperative to use all the resources of our nation to destroy them," the First Mother said.
"I've been told by Heather and her peers that neither Fargone nor New Japan will sell them weapons. They have no law against doing so, but recognize they are crazies," Eileen said. A steaming mug of coffee was put at her elbow and she thanked the server.
"So they've tried?" the First Mum asked.
"Oh yes, and they tried to buy from Fargone secretly through third parties," Eileen revealed. "They were told in the usual blunt Fargoner manner that the next attempt would result in a free sample, ballistically delivered. When you have eighty percent of your population in one small city that's not something to risk."
"Yes, we've noticed the Fargoers have an economy of expression that is almost an art form," the First Mother said with a smile. To their credit the Foys didn't flinch.
"We shall be adding our voice of approval in regard to your presence," the First Mother assured the Foys. "Let us know any way we can make your task easier. We gave the Badger and Bill embassy a plaque for public display in case the city folk had a problem with them."
"We saw," Eileen said. "We had lunch with Singer already, and although he didn't point it out, it was very prominent. That would be a great kindness if you want to do the same for us."
"Bah! Great kindness? It's a small gesture compared to your own," the First Mother said. "The press release said everything of importance, but I'm sure we would find interest in the behind the scene details of how Lee accomplished this agreement."
"I'm sure Lee has a recording of the negotiations with Heather. It comes down to the fact she decided, or was convinced, it was in our own best interests too," Eileen said.
"I do," Lee confirmed. "I have it on my pad and will transfer you a copy. You might find it worth taking the time to watch it. Some of the things revealed answer questions that were mysteries to us. Especially, why the Earthies backed off harassing them. I need to give this back to you too," Lee stood, and stretched over the table, returning the Mother's seal.
"This is a hard copy of the agreement with Central," Lee offered next. "I believe it treats you with respect. All the provisions apply to all the signatories equally. It is much better than an agreement to ignore each other. It also binds us not to release the details of their kind of drive, but applies to them releasing it equally," Lee said, putting copies beside the seal.
"Us?" The Third Mother asked quickly. She was sharp and fast.
"Heather is convinced my researchers are going to breach their secret, and containing that was the principal thing she wanted. So it was necessary to bind myself to this agreement to get it for all of us," Lee answered, and held her breathe.
The Third Mother thought on that briefly, and nodded without saying anything.
"Very good," the First Mother said, ending any opening for discussion on the matter, and making the little stamp disappear. "We consider this duty we laid upon you successfully completed, Daughter." The other Mothers nodded in agreement. "We have confidence in you, and would call on you again," she assured Lee.
Lee just nodded her own thanks, surprised she didn't immediately open and read the document, sharing it with the other Mothers, since they were bound by it. Lee could not have waited to read it at her leisure. Lee also didn't say aloud that it wouldn't hurt her feeling if they didn't find some other grand quest to send her off on right away.
Eileen's pad emitted a loud electronic chirp, right at the quiet pause in conversation. Lee was embarrassed they didn't have it turned off while speaking with the Mothers. If it had gone off during dinner it would have been an even bigger breach of custom.
"Your pardon," Eileen begged of the shocked Mothers, "but this is your business that is interrupting us. The only thing that would alert us is a possible military vessel entering your system. I'd best review what our drones, serving as buoys on your system edge, have sighted."
"Sometimes necessity intrudes," the Third Mum acknowledged. "If you are attending to our safety you have our thanks, not unreasoning offense."
The Third Mother was just a little more modern and attuned to dealing with electronic intrusions than the other Mothers, but they quickly nodded agreement. They brought her into the governance just for those talents, not to sit meekly and never speak up.
"Is this information from the system scan our station maintains?" the First Mother asked, uncertain about their talk of drones.
"No, as you will see if you watch Lee's video, we have the ability to make much shorter quantum transitions, jumps, than between stars. Both our ships, and some very useful robotic drones," Eileen said. "We scattered a number of these helpers on your system edge at the likely entry vectors from stars with a reasonable jump probability for Earth tech vessels. One of our drones detected an entry from the direction of Fargone, but I doubt it is from there. That system is closed to Earth vessels now, and this one has hailed the system scan and traffic control already, that it is the USNA Heavy Cruiser Albany."
"So, they test you," the Second Mother deduced.
"I'm afraid so," Eileen said. "They announced their intention to orbit Derfhome. Of course with speed of light lag they likely don't expect us to receive that message for several hours. Our drone makes a rather light emission of jump radiation compared to a ship, and that will have occurred behind them, so it may have escaped their attention."
"We shall still alert our own armed vessels as backup," the First Mother said, and looked at the Third Mother who nodded and looked to her pad to make it happen.
Lee was frowning at her own pad. "I don't see a new vessel christened the Albany," she protested. "My navigational data is kept up to date. The old Albany was removed from active service and mothballed a decade ago. This doesn't make sense."
"It does to me," Victor said. "They are still short of ships from the war, they want to push back at us over this. If we fall for this bait and destroy the ship they will use it for a huge propaganda coup. The politics of victimhood is still very popular in North America."
"I want to intercept them before they expect an answer back from Derfhome station. May I ask your permission to have our vessel in orbit drop to the edge of your lands, the other side of the old fortress we walked past coming in?" Eileen asked the Mothers. "It will be loud enough to be a disruption even at that distance I'm afraid."
"It's an atmospheric lander too?" Lee asked surprised.
"Most of our ships are. I beg your pardon, if we seem needlessly secretive. It is a hard habit to break, and having . . . allies, is a new thing," Eileen explained.
"It can land with that big freight module grappled?" Lee persisted, questioning them.
"No, I'd rather not try that. It would be tricky," Eileen admitted. "But it can detach from it and leave it in orbit for right now."
"No need to take the time to trek out beyond the watchtower," the First Mother insisted. "You are welcome to set it down and board from the open area in front of the Keep that has not been replanted in trees. Watch that you don't have trouble with the stone pillar that the people have erected as a monument."
"Thank you. That will be so much easier," Eileen said.
The First Mother called a youngster over and gave instructions. He left moving faster than they were used to seeing Derf move.
"I sent instructions to clear the area. It should be safe to land within ten or fifteen minutes," the First Mum promised. "Since you will miss lunch with us I am having the kitchen send a couple box lunches out for you."
Eileen almost protested they wouldn't have time to eat them. But why turn down a kind gesture already set in motion? She nodded a deep nod, almost a bow of thanks. When she checked her pad the ship was far enough away around the planet it would take near a half hour to land anyway. She announced as much.
"Correct me if I lack understanding, but if this is a . . . disposable vessel, an old one they would trade for a chance to look ill treated, how did they get a crew to fly it? Do they not realize they are sent on a suicide mission? That they also are disposable?" the Third Mother asked.
"When you control everything people hear, and punish those who listen to unapproved news sources, it's amazing what you can get people to believe. They undoubtedly have a number of officers who believe the spacers are evil and bent on dominating Earth for their own enrichment and power. To some degree that's true. We do see to our own interests over theirs. But what they would never believe is we do it to keep from being crushed by their masters.
"They believe we do everything we can to deny them their rightful position. Which always seems to be over us. It helps build belief that they paint us gene modified monsters and wholly immoral and selfish people. The crew or at least the officers probably believe to their core that they represent everything that is just and right," Eileen said.
"I'm thinking, if your vision is correct, they will have been ordered to force us to fire on them," Vic decided. "They want an incident. They won't follow any orders to stop or divert."
"Worse than that," Eileen said, "they pulled this ship out of storage just a few days ago. It had to be fueled and brought up to temperature. They had to stock water and air. They may not even have started the air scrubber cultures and full environmental suite. I'd bet anything they didn't even load missiles. That's a fairly slow delicate process."
"I wouldn't fly it," Lee said.
"Of course not, you aren't brainwashed," Vic said.
"That's a new term for me," Lee said. She was punching it in her pad.
"I believe one gets the sense of it from context," the Second Mother said. "You are saying you are not just dealing with the misinformed, but with fanatics."
"You're very perceptive. That's exactly the point," Eileen said.
"Be careful," Lee said, worried. "Dealing with delusional people you can't be sure what they will do."
"Your concern is touching, but if we wanted to quietly live risk free we'd have never struggled and left Earth," Eileen said.
"Well, come back," Lee set as a minimum. "I have a lot more of your story to hear."
The Mothers nodded solemn agreement.
Outside, the was a crack and a distant rumble as the ship approached.
"Time to run, excuse us," Eileen said and started for the door at a brisk walk. A young Derf handed Vic two boxes as he chased after her. He tucked them in one elbow and hurried.
Chapter 28
"They're trying so hard to look non-aggressive," Eileen said, irritated. "The flight profile is like a merchant ship instead of a cruiser. They jumped short and are decelerating at a half G. They announced system entry way early. Nobody could say it looked like a military strike, jumping deep, hot and silent. I hate it when the Earthies do this passive aggressive theater. It still doesn't excuse the fact they're here, after they were told they're not welcome to make unannounced port calls here."
"Indeed, it's willful trespass," Victor agreed.
"If they want to play meek let us see how well they can continue to do so when I interrogate them. I will jump a drone in, paint them with very low powered radar, and then establish voice communications. I'm not risking us at first. I shall simultaneously trade drones as often as necessary to carry the conversation on from a safe distance."
"I predict they will remain meek, as you say, and just insist on continuing to Derfhome orbit, no matter what you say," Vic predicted. "It fits that old term, passive aggressive."
"This is a flawed action," Eileen said. "I'm trying to figure it out. If I were going to fire on them rather than let them orbit how did they intend to prove it later? To be useful for propaganda you need video and system scan, or at least audio of the traffic control orders. It isn't very effective to say your ship just disappeared when you sent it to Derfhome and then draw all sorts of suppositions from that."
"Perhaps they think the Derf aren't sophisticated enough to edit their system scan?" Vic asked, grasping for some explanation.
"Recording to our drone and I'll jump it in," Eileen said.
"Hailing the North American cruiser Albany. This is Captain Eileen Foy of the Nation of Central vessel Phantom, on detached duty to the Nation of Red Tree. Please be aware this system and beyond has been closed to military vessels for informal port calls. It is necessary to ask permission before visiting now. This was published to Earth news outlets and nations as well as ship mail to all inhabited systems. Notices to Navigation should have propagated it through your own networks. You need to tell us how you plan to alter course and leave the system to comply with this directive."
"And . . . sent," Eileen said. They waited a long thirty seconds for the drone to record and response and they traded drones jumping a fresh one in.
"This is Captain Linda Stein commanding the Albany. I am unable to comply. I have to declare an emergency because we have limited life support and are proceeding on stores rather than recycling. We need to have systems serviced before we can safely jump as far as a system with an industrial base and ship services."
"Well if you had properly brought that hunk of junk back online with the needed cultures in the tanks there wouldn't be any problem," Eileen said, but only to Vic. She didn't transmit that to the Albany. "Not to mention most captains would announce any emergency the very first thing upon addressing the system scan."
An unexpected drone materialized near the Phantom and reported.
"Well, well, well . . . System entry behind her, on the same vector as the Albany. There is your witness to see us abuse our unexpected guest in trouble. Their hail to the system scan says they are the USNA trader High Plains. I didn't know there were any North American registered merchant ships," Victor said in wonder.
"There are maybe half a dozen," Eileen said. "They have absurd safety regulations and restrictions on what they can carry. It's so uneconomical to operate them that you can just figure any with that registration are actually letter agency vehicles. And I'd bet they don't bother to follow the silly rules either. They killed their launch industry last century by treating spaceships like airliners. They fly over oceans, so these idiots require space capable vessels to carry life rafts. They can't carry a big list of stuff like elemental mercury or certain kinds of batteries, and they still require things like dedicated black box recorders in obsolete century old approved formats that are heavy and useless."
"Well, the Albany undoubtedly knew they would have a follower, but the wave front has not caught up with them for them to know it has arrived in system. What will you do?" Vic asked.
"Anyone is obligated to render aid," Eileen said. "Derfhome is such a poor choice for emergency service. We have no real shipyard here, and limited repair facilities. I will inform them we are going to render aid to get them to first class repair facility."
"Ha! You going to run them to Earth?" Vic asked her, with a huge grin.
"No, no, no. No need. New Japan is so much closer. With an environmental failure lives are at risk. Time is of the essence," Eileen said, tongue in cheek.
"Like Fargone, New Japan banned USNA military vessels from visiting their system," Vic pointed out. "Remember?"
"Yes, but anyone is obligated to help a vessel in distress. They'll fix whatever is life threatening, and then send them on their way," Eileen said cheerfully.
"And they can charge whatever they please," Victor said thoughtfully.
"Yes, well if the emergency isn't as critical as they thought that may boost the price."
"Boost? They're going to price gouge them and file a diplomatic protest," Vic said.
"One may hope. We'll lurk long enough to hear how they take it," Eileen decided.
"Why do I keep seeing weird jump signatures every fifteen seconds?" Captain Stein asked.
"Those are our jump drones relaying our messages between us, and recording what you do to forward to system scan. Forgive our caution but we thought you might be hostile since you are in trespass. So we maintained a few light minutes distance for the sake of safety. But a ship in environmental failure is hardly going to get aggressive is it? We are going to jump in close. Don't be alarmed. We are going to speed up your access to a top notch repair facility."
"Jump in near her in six or seven decreasing distance jumps," Eileen ordered Vic. "I'd like to end up a hundred meters from her plus or minus about five meters. Then auto jump out dragging her along within a few milliseconds, so she doesn't have time to panic."
"A jump in isn't as nasty as outbound," Vic said, concerned. "But it will still rattle her."
"Good," Eileen said.
The ship jumped in swift sequence, but each one smaller and with decreasing error for end location. The last jump of a thousand kilometers terminating within the five meters requested.
The cruiser was visible outside their ports, but immediately the star field BLINKED in change, the stars assuming a slightly shifted pattern.
"WHAT"
-BLINK-
"DO"
-BLINK-
"YOU"
-BLINK-
"THINK"
-BLINK-
" - YOU ARE DOING?" Captain Stein yelled. "You're crazy! You jumped so close you thumped me, hard. I heard stuff break." Then beside the flickering star field, the fact there was a planet hanging in front of her penetrated her consciousness.
"Holy Shit . . . that's impossible."
"Reduce radio power, can you get under five watts? Maybe just a watt or two? So New Japan can't hear us?" Eileen requested.
"I can do a quarter watt and direct it narrowly. We have that for when workers in suits are outside and we don't want everybody to hear what we are saying," Vic said.
"Oh good, I'll tell her where we've taken her, then jump a few light minutes out-system and we'll lurk and listen," Eileen said.
"Captain Stein, you are at New Japan. They have excellent facilities to aid you, and are obligated to succor any distressed spacer. Please do not come to Derfhome again, or there's no telling where I shall deliver you if sufficiently irritated. Someplace inside a gravity gradient you can't quite climb out of would be amusing."
Victor removed them ten light minutes. It was torture waiting to hear Captain Stein's discussion with New Japan traffic control, but eventually it reached them. They used the time to dig into their box lunches.
"New Japan traffic control this is the USNA Cruiser Albany, Captain Stein commanding. We have an environmental emergency and request aid."
"Albany, you will alter course to enter a trailing stellar orbit behind New Japan. You will not continue on a course to enter planetary orbit or our defenses will engage you. You will stand down and be boarded and inspected to determine the veracity of this emergency. You entered off a Derfhome vector. How did you transverse the systems between with a bad life support? And why would you even be headed this way, even if it did fail part way here?"
"It's complicated," Stein admitted. "We declared an emergency at Derfhome but were rejected. They kidnapped us actually, and dropped us here."
There was barely audible babble of Japanese from several voices in the background then the original speaker said, "Osooooo . . ."
Vic frowned and keyed an inquiry into his pad.
"That means?" Eileen asked.
"Liar, not a gentle euphemistic form, and drawing it out like that is harsh," Vic said.
"Albany, you will assume the required orbit at least fifteen light seconds trailing our planet," New Japan ordered. "You will assume a stable condition with no roll or pitch and open your outer lock to receive our armored inspection team. It will be delivered by a shuttle and our own forces will stand off in overwatch. Do you understand and intend to comply?"
"I have fuel reserves to do that and can maintain breathable atmosphere for some hours," Stein said. "Things will start deviate from healthy standards in a few hours however."
"Not-our-problem, Albany. Breathe slower," the controller suggested.
"He doesn't sound friendly," Eileen observed.
"He doesn't sound believing," Victor added.
"I think our work here is done," Eileen said, satisfied.
"Shall I take us back to Derfhome, Captain?"
"Yes, it's going to take hours for this to play out," she decided.
"To the station and take a shuttle back down, or back to the Keep?" Vic asked.
"Check that nobody is bothering our freight module, and then back to their lawn. If they object to us taking that liberty, I shall act surprised and say I expected they would want to know the end of the matter quickly."
"Aye-aye, Ma'am."
* * *
"Do you really think they went to the trouble to create a genuine emergency or was it all a ruse?" Lee asked the Foys.
"I don't know, but if I was Captain Stein right now, and my life support equipment was in perfect order, I'd be down in the engineering spaces busting it up before those Japanese got there and inspected it. They didn't sound like they would have any sense of humor about it," Victor said.
Vic and Eileen were back sitting in the Keep dining hall, in time to join everyone for the second meal of the day. Vic had another mug of the good Derf beer.
"Why are you frowning at me?" Vic asked Lee.
"I just realized you flew after drinking beer," Lee said. "Or that's how you told the story."
"Before you get too upset with my recklessness, be aware I have a gene mod that makes me metabolize alcohol much faster than normal, and it takes a lot more to impair me," Victor said. "I like the taste of it, but never did like feeling fuzzy. It was a no brainer to buy the mod."
"Good, because if you hadn't explained I might not have flown with you again," Lee said.
"It's Heather's ship," Eileen revealed. "We may have enough wealth some day to own our own. I was told you own several ships in the very sketchy briefing they gave me on you and your family. But Heather would not put up with anyone flying her ship drunk. She has very little tolerance for drunks and problem gamblers, among other bad behaviors."
Lee was reminded how very fortunate she was. The Foys aspired to someday own a ship and she'd just gotten a report how the design of her next star ship was progressing. It wouldn't be as fast as theirs, but it was going to be her very own.
"I feel the moral climate is much better at Central than Earth, or I wouldn't have advocated any kind of alliance with them," Lee said.
"Yes and no," Eileen said looking troubled. "Central isn't inhabited by angels. The Three run a tight ship, and will argue and debate passionately whether something is right or wrong right in front of you. That shocked me to see them doing that where anyone could watch, instead of taking it in private, and said as much. Heather laughed and said it's like a ship with three computers. The redundancy is a safeguard and if two of the three get different answers than you it's time to find out why. They get suggestions from advisors, from peers even, they have to reject." That Lee took for modesty, given her recent elevation.
"There is never a court day where Heather doesn't have something to judge," Vic said.
Like most of his statements it left room for you to figure out what his point was.
"People behave better when they aren't oppressed," Eileen said.
"Well duhhh, of course," Lee said.
"No 'of course' about it at all," Eileen insisted, actually wagging a finger to make her point. "That is a radical thought, and a call to revolution on Earth."
"Sometimes, it seems like the more you relieve people of horrible problems, such as not having a secure job, not being secure yourself before arbitrary authority, not being in fear of crime all around you, then they seem to find a hundred petty issues to substitute," Vic said.
"Like the entitled young woman so full of herself we saw in Heather's court? She wouldn't move out of her ex-boyfriend's apartment like it was hers." Lee said.
"We don't know that case, but it sounds about right," Vic agreed.
"Still, I think North America would have just put a missile in one of us if the situation was reversed today," Lee said. "I thought the way you handled it was beyond being patient. It was elegant, artistic even."
"That's Eileen," Vic said. "I don't have a subtle bone in my body."
The Third Mother spoke up. "Still, Lee has a point. Any solution that doesn't end in exploding space ships is to be preferred."
"We gave them another chance to avoid conflict," Eileen agreed. "Now it's up to them to take the lesson to heart and not keep pushing. I know they don't like the new restrictions. It's been a struggle since Home and Central bound them inside L1. We even modified that when they needed to pass out-system with armed ships. At the time Heather was sure they were willing to fight over that issue. She must think this isn't the same, and I hope she's right."
"It doesn't have to be forever," Lee objected. "When things change we can modify it, just like you did the L1 rules. But for right now I'm pretty sure we need it."
"I guess that fits the rule that perfect is the enemy of good enough," Vic said.
"Can anyone ever finish learning English?" the Second Mother complained.
"No! We are all linguistic sovereigns," Lee insisted. "You have mastered it when you start altering it to suit yourself!"
"Sometimes I fear you Humans want to change us like you edit and alter and bend your own language," the First Mother worried.
Lee was growing up and getting smarter. She said nothing.
* * *
"That third candidate compound from the New Japan list looks interesting," Musical said. "There are several ways the ingredients could bond depending on the order in which you combine the metals, adding the same one in batches at different stages."
"But have you looked at the predicted phase diagram?" Born asked. "It would appear it will be a liquid at normal pressure and temperature."
"Oh, that rules it out?" Musical asked.
"We think we are looking for a super-conductor. Current theory says there is no way a liquid like this could be a super-conductor except maybe under conditions like you'd find deep in a gas giant," Born insisted.
"Current theory, also says what Central ships do is impossible," Musical pointed out. "Why get too narrowly bound to what 'everybody knows' at this point?"
"You're right," Born decided. "Everything else about it fits our list. Let's include it when we ask Lee for materials funding."
"You make that presentation," Musical requested. "I can't ask for that much money with a straight face."
"Do you really think Lee can read Badger faces that well?" Born asked, displaying his amusement. "She grew up with a Derf. She should be able to read me much better."
"Race doesn't enter into it," Musical insisted, lifting his muzzle haughtily. "A professor gets much more practice asking for money shamelessly than a mere engineer."
"You're just trying to tweak my snout," Born said, laughing. "It won't work. I'm beyond shame when it comes to pursuing funding. In my trade it's no defect, it's a vital talent."
"Still, you get the money from Lee, and I'll willingly to put your name first on the paper, and cede you fifty-one percent of any bonus we earn," Musical offered.
"Deal!" Born said, and offered a true hand to shake, in the Human manner.
End
The Last Part : Books and Links by Mackey Chandler
April (first in series)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0077EOE2C
April is an exceptional young lady and something of a snoop. She finds herself involved with intrigues that stretch her abilities after a chance run in with a spy. There is a terrible danger she and her friends and family will lose the only home she has ever known in orbit and be forced to live on the slum ball below. It's more than a teen should have to deal with. Fortunately she has a lot of smart friends and allies. It's a good thing because things get very rough and dicey.
Family Law
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006GQSZVS
You know people who love their dogs. They put them in their will. They forgo vacations to stay home and take care of them.
Can a dog love back or is it simple self interest? Affection or love? Unconditional or a meal-ticket? What if you dog could talk back? Would your dog be less lovable if he could tell you what he thinks like your spouse? If he complained his kibbles were dry and boring would your affection wear thin? I don't want to touch on what a cat might tell you...
Is the dog part of your family or property? Who should decide that for you? How much more complicated will it be if we meet really intelligent species not human?
Humans don't have a very good history of defending the interests of others. Even variations of their own species. How will they treat 'people' in feathers or fur? Perhaps a more difficult question is: How will they treat us? Usually the people who answer these sort of questions have no desire to be on the pointy end of things. They are just minding their own business and it is thrust upon them. This story explores those questions
Link to full list of current releases on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004RZUOS2
Mac's Writing Blog:
http://www.mackeychandler.com