Chapter 5

“We have a vertical launch in Idaho!” Johnson said. “Can anybody intercept it?”

“This is Tony in Random Numbers. I’m on the opposite side of the Mud Ball. I’ll come around and intercept but they will attain orbital altitude by the time I get there.”

“That’s no problem. Thanks, Tony. He looks to be going translunar.”

“What the devil has vertical lift facilities in Idaho?”

“They pulled everything out of the old Area 51 facilities when the Texans started moving in on New Mexico and Arizona and moved them up there. We didn’t have to hit the old site. They trashed it when they pulled out to leave nothing for the Texans. We cratered all the runways and taxiways at the new site in Idaho but apparently, this vehicle can take off without a runway or fancy pad. It’s hot too. It’s hasn’t dropped off acceleration since it lifted. No idea if it is manned or a drone.”

“I’ve acquired him on my radar,” Tony said. “Jumping a drone in to hole him.”

“I didn’t try to hit every building and support structure there,” Johnson said, “just the runways. They must have seen that’s what we were doing at civilian ports and not tried to defend it. I’m directing a new thorough attack to wipe everything visible.”

“Oops, sorry, but when I holed him the vehicle broke up,” Tony reported.

“And they might have other assets there. This time my first rods are being defended against heavily,” Johnson reported. “I’m gifting them with a heavy second wave and some ten kiloton devices.”

“This is Heather. Hit them until you get no further defense. Then I’m going to expend a strategic warhead on them. They are far from any town and I’d rather make an example of them than wait and do it somewhere else with worse collateral damage.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m doubling up. They must be protecting something to see this much resistance. I’m getting ballistic defenses from areas where we showed no facilities before. They must have been in tunnels or heavily camouflaged.”

It was a full fifteen minutes before Johnson reported. “My last ten rods got no response at all.”

“I’m still going to blind them before I risk a major weapon,” Heather said. “Don’t be surprised. I’m deploying three calcium bombs set to detonate very low, at three thousand meters. We’ll see if they are faking it if they try to intercept them.”

The weapons dispersed a cloud of radar opaque ionized vapor well beyond the edges of the base. All three burst with no attempts at interception.

“Incoming in six minutes,” Heather warned them. “Don’t look and get flashed.”

The bus dove at six gravities aimed at a point short that would be an apparent miss, then jinked up at the last second and detonated fifty meters above ground level.

“Holy…. I darkened my spex to two-tenths of a percent transmission and it was bright. There might not be anything close but that’s still going to bust some windows,” Tony said.

“As far as Oregon,” Johnson agreed, and trip every bhangmeter in the hemisphere.”

“Sensors in surrounding states are reporting it as an earthquake already,” Heather said.

“Good, let it rattle the politicians in Vancouver,” Johnson said. He got another alert.

“We have heavy equipment trying to repair the runways in Winnipeg,” Johnson said. “I’m going to drop two rods near them. If they don’t take a hint and withdraw, I’m going to lay a couple of ten kiloton warheads on the field.”

Heather said nothing and they knew she was monitoring, so she must approve.

“Johnson, this is Allison monitoring a commercial satellite watching the Pacific. We see a carrier group dispersing to all points of the compass. Image to your screen. They may be getting ready to do something stupid.”

“I’m on it,” Johnson assured her. He wondered just how long this whole campaign was going to take.

* * *

Born called Lee at a decent hour in the morning. She’d never had reason to explain she slept much less now. He’d promised an answer about the thrust today, not by any specific hour.

“As we suspected, the device does press down on the scale when inverted,” Born reported.

“Thank you for making sure of that,” Lee said. “I’d have hated to install it in a ship only to find out the hard way it would only thrust out of a gravity well.”

* * *

April and Jeff retreated to their suite at the Old Hotel. Like Lee, they messaged ahead to their subordinates about their return. Victor and Eileen Foy were requested to join them when it was convenient so they could strategize on the arrival of Home.

When the com signaled an incoming call, April assumed it was from the Foys, arriving and asking entry, so she didn’t screen the call. Ingrained habits of security, however, kept her from automatically calling out to the house, granting entry to their elevator to come up to the suite. She slapped the receive button and froze because the words in her mouth for the Foys were no longer appropriate.

Mel Wainwright wasn’t a stupid man by any measure. He knew as soon as April hesitated, that she had been expecting someone else and was a decent enough fellow to be embarrassed.

“Your pardon, Lady Lewis, I perceive you expected someone else. I’m just off the shuttle at Derfhome port. You and Lord Singh were the only two names from the Home public com list that got a match to the local directory. I’m an advance party from Home on behalf of Martha Wiggen and several others of your acquaintance. I wonder if I might put a question to you for them? I was given to believe Wiggen-Patsitsas was in your favor?”

“Indeed, I count her a friend and her husband Ben,” April agreed. “I’d be happy to help anyone who is an agent on Martha’s behalf and I have a favorable impression of you from the stories Martha told me. You did catch me out being surprised, because we are expecting business guests at any moment. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to either secure temporary lodging or buy property for a half dozen clients, including Martha. They want to get something before there is a sudden influx of buyers. I’d simply like to know if you have any suggestions? We may only be a few hours ahead of others and ahead of a mob in a couple of days.”

By this time Jeff was standing behind April.

“I’m intrigued,” Jeff said. “How did you get to the port ahead of Home coming into its trailing orbit?”

“Mr. Larkin launched a shuttle as soon as he had a maximum range solution to dock at Derfhome station with a two percent reserve. I anticipated he would do that and approached him.” Mel smiled. “I think he agreed to bring me mostly to keep me from going around seeking a different ride, thereby giving others the idea for an early launch. He is still up there arranging docking leases for his shuttle line. I caught the first shuttle drop to dirt to pursue my own business.”

“I’m not sure what business that is,” Jeff admitted. “You still work for Wiggen you say?”

“Only in the sense she hires me now and then,” Mel said. “I of course have other customers of the first rank like her, who I value more and take care of first. As you do, I’m sure.”

“You are in what then? Property management? You used to be in Wiggen’s security group,” Jeff remembered. “You were with her when she defected.”

“Property management, which will be complicated since I am managing Home properties for people left behind on Earth. People who have no idea where their property is even located now. I do a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, quiet behind the scenes promotions, business brokerage, and investments. But only computer and site security, not personal armed protection. I found that readily available on Home and didn’t wish to jump into an already competitive field. I’m happy to be out of the executive protection business.”

“We’re in the Old Hotel,” Jeff told him. “We find it quite comfortable and they accommodate Humans well. We’re keeping a suite here for business. If you act quickly to reserve rooms in your company name, I think it will please your clients better than some of the modern hotels. I’m told there is never a great deal of real estate for sale in the city but if you have funds building new is easy if not cheap. The Derf build for permanence and to survive local earthquakes and weather. You might find a few townhouses available but little in the way of free-standing homes.

“The usual thing here is to work through your bank. Banks here tend to act like a concierge service. I’d suggest you get accounts as your second action after securing temporary lodging. They will see to your interests and make a start at informing you about the differences in law and custom. We were fortunate to already have a Voice on Derfhome with local accounts for Central, and we’re learning those local things from political allies rather than merely commercial partners.”

“Do you suggest a bank?” Mel inquired.

“Lee Anderson uses the Bank of Derfhome,” April said. “She, the Derf Gordon, and his clan bank there. Others might suit you as well. I anticipate we’ll offer banking service here if Home stays. We have a great deal to learn before we can do that ourselves.”

“I’ll go with them if they are still open by the time I nail down some rooms,” Mel said.

“Why would they ever close?” Jeff asked.

Mel looked at him in silence for a long three count. “You’re right. I’m going to need some help with local customs. Thank you for your help,” he said and disconnected.

* * *

“The official response and the way the news organizations in other countries are treating our campaign in North America is very muted,” Heather said. She was scrolling through the Earth news outlets and looking at the screen skeptically.

“They believe their own propaganda and think we are crazy,” Dakota said. “They’re probably scared that saying the wrong thing will make you bombard them.”

“Do you sincerely believe that or are you being flippant?” Heather asked.

“It’s inherent to their having shorter lives than us,” Dakota insisted. “We have a continuity they lack. You’ve stayed the same, but most of their people forming policy to deal with you are working with inherited attitudes and are informed by third-hand information. If the people before them retired, and didn’t privately fill them in on what was fact and what was propaganda, they may believe the official narrative.

“The succession of officeholders and the passing of authority happens at a faster rate than how people count generations. Not only are people only at the peak of their careers for a decade or two, but the changes of administrations often remove the people from the brief, really important policy-making phase of their careers. They may only have the power to apply their personal ideology for four years or less.

“There was a period where retired officials tended to stay in the public eye. They got positions in the news agencies or important corporations and defended their previous policies if anyone tried to change them. If Life Extension had been legal, they’d have continued to do so. These are all people who retire wealthy. If they stayed in the public eye now, they’d risk people disbelieving they look so good into their nineties and beyond. They have to disappear now to be able to enjoy using their wealth to buy life itself.

“At first there was a market in making the newly young look older. That was OK for things like public appearances, but do you want to have to live in a disguise every day? Then there was a migration to other countries where full Life Extension was legal. Now, it’s hard enough to safely enjoy their extended life that people are disappearing and buying entirely new identities.”

Heather thought about it a little. “So, there may be a continuity of public policy, but the actual beliefs of those administering it changes?”

“You better believe it, and it’s dangerous. Previous administrations may have paid lip service to a policy, but known that actually acting on it would be a disaster. They may not have told the current people the truth of it. Especially if they were of a different party. In that case, they may never have had honest private discussions about anything when power transferred. The further you get from the source of a policy, the greater the danger they won’t question it. It gets set like concrete.”

“We’ve always been at war with Eastasia,” Heather quoted.

“Exactly. They may believe their contrived positions, unaware of their true origins.”

“I have to admit. I’ve grown weary of trying to follow all the details of North American politics. It seems like parties and candidates the natives see as vastly different, look much the same from where I’m sitting,” Heather said. “They all hate us, so what is the point of detailing why or how much? It’s like a story I read years and years ago about two nations fully invested in the importance of whether you cracked a boiled egg on the round end or the pointy end. Any sane observer would ask them what possible difference could it make?”

“And incur the hatred of both sides,” Dakota predicted. “Do you know the name of the current USNA president?”

“Sure, it’s that Durbin fellow. Bradley. The one with the pointy nose who they caricature and his wife is a real looker. He’s a Full Social Sharing Democrat, the ones that use the four-square hands grasping wrists for their logo.”

“And do you know how many seats they hold in the House and the Senate and their relative strengths in chairs and committees?” Dakota asked.

“Life is too short and busy to invest that much attention to it,” Heather said. “I have noticed that they change the names of the political parties more often now, but it’s slapping a different label on the same old policies and hoping it makes them work better somehow.”

“You see?” Dakota asked. “Your viewpoints are diverging. You look at the last three decades and feel you are dealing with basically the same entity. They look at thirty years and the time gap is as great as from the First World War to the First Atomic War. In North America, they had six different presidents even though one took three terms. In other places like Italy, they changed governments like I do footies. The way people lived and their technology changed completely. They see thirty years ago as the dead past to which they shouldn’t be compared. They would be horrified to understand you see little difference between them and their grandfathers.”

“It makes conflict almost inevitable,” Heather decided.

“No kidding?” Dakota said. “It was already pretty much unavoidable even when you and they were both operating on the same time frame. I think it’s a given now.”

That was interesting. Heather wasn’t used to the idea of Dakota being such a deep thinker or having such an interest in history. Her comments tended to be short and sarcastic. Heather always assumed they reflected her thoughts. She’d never opened up and expressed herself like this before, but she couldn’t have gained such a depth of opinion in just a few days. What had changed to move her to speak up so much freer?

* * *

Born spun the machine up and watched the scale rise. “You do get more force from stacking than trying to increase the rotation speed.”

“I wonder why?” Musical said.

“If I had any idea why one disk worked, I might venture a guess for two.”

“And yet,” Musical said, “somewhere in the way Lee thinks, she got the idea multiple disks might lead to a multiplication of forces.”

“I’d bet anything it isn’t a conscious thought process,” Born said. “You ask if you want. I’m afraid she’ll just say it was obvious.”

“It’s somewhat more than double the force for two identical disks spun up to the same speed as before. It was so much work to create this rotor. I think we should be more aggressive and make several of the possible changes to the next prototype instead of plodding along, one change at a time,” Musical suggested.

“We’ll introduce uncertainty about which change did what,” Born objected. “If the output declines, we won’t even know which change to remove.”

“But we may leap ahead to a functionally useful design. Then we can research those details at our leisure, confident our support will continue.”

“You think Lee will withdraw support if we don’t progress fast enough?” Born asked.

“Not permanently,” Musical said, shaking his head even though there were no Humans around to appreciate his usage. “However, we will have the last few pieces for the drive proto in the next couple of days. That is still our primary project. The better the report we can give on the thruster, the sooner I predict we’ll be allowed to return to working on it.”

“I hope it doesn’t look so good that she decides to form another team and hand it off to them,” Born worried.

“That would be difficult. She’d have to find somebody with the needed skills to recruit and arrange and pay for a separate physical facility outside the university. It would create all kinds of security issues to which her clansmen would object. Even if that happened, she has always treated us fairly. I’d expect we’d be promoted above any new hires as supervisors.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t want to just be an administrator and lose the hands-on part of the research. What kind of changes do you want to add all at once? Born asked.

“I’d like to go straight to four tapered high-speed rotors with fixed intermediate plates. And a high dielectric coating on the non-rotating plates that separate them,” Musical said.

Born considered that carefully. “We know more speed will help. The geometry seems a minor change. The only objection I have to the dielectric is we should have a deliberate failure point where it will be expected to discharge first so it doesn’t do damage elsewhere with unknown consequences.”

“Can we send the changes to a couple of shops in the morning so we can coat the rotors, assemble and test it the next morning? That may allow us a test run before we have to switch back to the drive project.”

“Sure, I was just going to totally waste tonight sleeping,” Born joked.

“I already have a couple of preliminary drawings and numbers,” Musical said.

“Then we may get to sleep before dawn. Show me,” Born demanded.

* * *

Mel managed to get five rooms on long-term leases at the Old Hotel. Only one was a suite and the manager refused to consider tying up more long term. He insisted they did not want to change the nature of the business to apartments and stop offering rooms by the day. Mel couldn’t blame him. Those day rate rooms always returned a better price, even if they did cost more in services. The place must already have a decent occupancy rate, and with the incoming flood of Homies, he predicted they would be full every night. If he bullied the fellow into more, he could easily resent it later, thinking Mel took advantage of him from inside knowledge. It wouldn’t do to slick one over on a local first thing. People noticed that and could hold it against you and talk it around. Mel wasn’t sure about local business ethics yet, but that kind of dealing didn’t fly on Home.

He did need some local advisors on the ethics of this culture, what services were available, relative scarcities, and hard black letter law. Mel visited the hotel dining room and ordered, then started searching the local data net while he waited. The bank would come next, but he doubted they would do everything he required. Searching businesses, there didn’t appear to be many aimed strictly at Humans. There were two clinics, one of which featured dentistry and the other had psychological services. Most listings were Derf businesses that made a point of saying they served Humans too, especially restaurants. A furniture store said they carried Human furniture and housewares. A construction company advertised experience at dual-species architecture. There was no listing for lawyers, although there were several guard services and private investigators.

Looking for counselors, there were several churches and spiritual advisors. Financial advisors and even personal trainers. One looked promising. Burnstein and King had an entire page instead of just a com listing. They promised cultural counseling, business referrals, drafting of contracts, and advice for dealing with foreign agencies and legal systems. Maybe tomorrow he decided. By the time he dealt with the bank he’d be done for the day. The truth was he was tired already.

* * *

Heather was jolted awake by her com’s priority alarm. Nobody had awakened her in the middle of the night in several years. She called out to the house for low lights and called to the com, “Audio only, open the mic. I’m coming.” A robe quickly snatched allowed her to talk face to face. She didn’t bother with slippers or combing her hair.

“Open video,” she allowed once she was decent. One look at Johnson’s face kept her from complaining about being rousted from her bed. “OK, what kind of bad news is this?” Heather demanded.

That must not have been the question he expected. He took a deep breath and a slow blink. Johnson was never contemplative. Three seconds was a long pause for him.

“It’s both political, military, and bad, but possibly more dangerous in a matter of hours or days than immediately. The North American Congress was in a dual session with the president addressing them. Many important members of his administration were there and they were bombarded. They are all dead.”

“Are we involved? Was it somehow by our hand?” Heather demanded.

“Not any of my people,” Johnson said. “I don’t think any Spacers were involved. The weapons were sub-launched hypersonics. Three were launched from deep water just out past the continental shelf. They all maneuvered evasively and dropped low by the time they crossed the coast. Two got through and one was stopped by close-in defenses. The shock wave from the low altitude approach and the defense did a lot of collateral damage.”

“Nukes?” Heather asked.

“No, not even a mini. One was a strictly kinetic weapon that divided into guided submunitions. It probably was aimed at defenses. The other was an oversized conventional bomb. It was an advanced metallic explosive by the flash, equivalent to eight or ten tons of H-6. It was still sufficient to obliterate the new capital building.”

“I expect they’ll still blame us. How loud are they yelling?” Heather wondered.

“I was calling you not a minute after the detonation. They haven’t had time to type out a headline and get clearance from an editor to interrupt programming with a bulletin. If you want to get ahead of it, I doubt if you have more than five minutes.”

“No, I think denials, before anybody accuses us, smells of deception. I’ll let them speak first and regret it at leisure,” Heather decided.

“Do you want me to strike any particular systems with which they might respond?”

Heather shook her head no. “Once again, switching to different targets would make it appear that was coordinated with the strike. I assume you already were hitting those sorts of targets since so many are space-based. Fixed location nuclear weapons are mostly obsolete and decommissioned. You may continue to degrade their space assets without any pause or change in your targeting choices. I’m sure I’m going to have some inquiries from the news services. I’m going to stay up and be ready for that. You may forward anything you don’t think will make the news services. I’ll be checking them after breakfast. I do appreciate having some time to think about what I’ll say.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” he said and disconnected. He didn’t show it but he was relieved he did the right thing in waking her.

* * *

“I just talked to Chen and Jan,” April informed Jeff. “They both expect Heather to request they come back to Central to help her with Earth intelligence. Chen is agreeable to returning in principle. It’ll be easier to transfer if she sends a ship for him and some of the others who got unexpectedly whisked away. The next four shuttles coming down from Derfhome station are all booked up. The bigger lift company that has two vehicles is adding a fifty percent surcharge because they are needing to return empty or near so. The other carrier is selling down leg seats by English auction right up until the hatch closes. Jan is coming down to check out Derfhome. He’s uncertain he ever wants to go back to the Solar System.”

“That’s happening more and more. I can’t blame them,” Jeff said.

“I know,” April agreed. “I can see Central becoming a hardship post that requires premium pay to get somebody to serve there in not too many years. Gunny was also caught in the transfer of Home. I assured him I doubt any serious enemies know where I am or have access to me. However, he’s bored and asked if he should come work alongside Strangelove just to keep a hand in. I told him it’s a mess trying to get transport down and to just stay there for now. He’s as bad as Garrett, seeing assassins everywhere. Just not as pushy about it.”

“Maybe the Moon will lose a lot of people,” Jeff said reluctantly, “but I can’t ever see us abandoning the Moon. We’re going to need to keep an eye on the Earth for a long time. You do need to find something for Gunny to do or he’ll feel he’s mooching. Which makes me wonder what Jan and Papa-san are going to do if they don’t work for us? With no Earth nearby to watch we won’t need to give them much work. I’m not generous enough to carry their annual retainers to just be on standby. I guess that’s their choice, their problem, not mine.”

“I wouldn’t worry so much about Papa-san,” April said. “I suspect I don’t have a clue about the depth of his assets.”

* * *

Born and Musical took most of the day to put the active material on the rotors from the prototype shop, then assemble the new rotor in the small centrifuge case. It had to be assembled layer by layer with the interspaced plates attached to the inside of the housing after each rotor was added. Then after the whole internal assembly was built up the top bearing was dropped over the end. That was OK for a prototype but a production machine would have to be much easier to assemble. At least they did it right on the scale so Born didn’t have to lift it. It was near supper time before they were through.

“Do you think it may have enough thrust to lift itself?” Musical wondered.

“If it does that creates all sorts of other problems,” Born said. “We’d have to tether it or build some guide rails to restrain it. It isn’t balanced and might drift off-center if it does rise. We don’t need it tumbling and smashing something if it comes down crooked. I’m certainly not going to hang onto it to try to keep it from sideslipping or rotating. Neither do I want to take time to switch the brackets around for the power supplies to flip it over again.”

“OK, pushing down on the scale was the right choice, even if it’s boring,” Musical agreed. “Do you want to do a half-speed run up first?”

“No, I expect us to switch to the drive project in the morning. I’d like to go home and to sleep at a decent hour tonight. Let’s spin this baby up and shut down for the day.” He was already putting the batteries in their mounts and plugging the cables in.

“Did you remember to charge the batteries?” Musical asked.

“You’re starting to sound a lot like my mother,” Born complained.

“I admit I’m a worrier. What happens if the push on the scale exceeds the capacity?”

“It just reads a full ton for anything over. I don’t think it has any way to indicate it is over the nominal load range,” Born said. “I didn’t think to ask for that in the specs. The support points with the strain gauges are far too beefy to damage.”

“By your leave?” Musical asked, picking up the remote.

“It’s your turn,” Born said.

The scale started registering thrust down on it, the rate increasing as before but faster. They never saw it register a ton because the display was an unreadable blur. Then the frame rails holding the egg-shaped housing buckled and the egg drove itself down a meter into the middle of the scale platen with a thud like a drop-forge. Three of the frame rails were now splayed outward around the main housing. The diamond-patterned plate steel platform of the scale was punched down with a big dent in the middle. The main housing was now sitting in the dent on the newly concave plate somewhat crookedly. It appeared the concrete floor under the scale limited its motion.

Musical belatedly turned the power off.

“I’m pretty sure that indicates out of load range,” Musical said pointing.

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