Chapter 6

Jan got off the shuttle carefully, gripping the handrail which was too fat for his hand and higher than he expected. The steps down were Derf-sized and a stretch for Humans. They needed to alter them to a happy medium. He stepped to the side looking around before he followed everyone else through the quaint terminal. Nobody paid any attention to him or hustled him along. He was used to that since he didn’t stand out and he had a relaxed sleepy-eyed look that put others at ease. If he stood very still, he blended into the background for any but the most observant.

As far as he could see there wasn’t a high-security fence surrounding the port and there were no security notices plastered on the half dozen doors facing the field. The public entry was obvious with double doors propped open to a pleasant day and glass window walls on both sides. The trees in the distance were a shade of green that wouldn’t have surprised him at any Earth port and the sky, if a bit pale, was definitely blue. It smelled good which was something pretty rare now near any Earth city.

Inside there was no line for any sort of customs or entry registration. The perfunctory customs inspection in orbit was apparently all he’d need to pass. In fact, if you had no business in the terminal it was a straight shot across to the open exit doors. That was refreshing. There was a mob around a car rental. Jan thought it foolishness to rent a car before seeing what the local roads and drivers were like. He didn’t know the local license laws, which side of the road they drove on, or if they favored taking their half out of the middle like seemed to be the frightening custom he’d experienced in Italy.

He’d been pleased to find his spex could be configured for the local net without buying new and he had them set to feed him English first before Derf or machine translations. An inquiry got him the information cars should be available outside the terminal. Alas, outside the doors there was a sign at the curb indicating the head of the auto-car queue, but no queue. They were all hired. Three Derf stood politely to the side with fliers for local restaurants. They didn’t even try to talk over each other.

“Are any of your places within walking distance?” he inquired. He wasn’t sure his English would be understood or if their spiels were memorized.

They all understood and gravely shook their heads no. It surprised Jan the Human gesture was so common here already.

“Everything is in town,” one volunteered. “There normally isn’t enough traffic out here to support a business. It’s just jammed right now because of the new hab. Are you from there?” he asked politely.

“I am. I would be happy to hire a local guide if you’d like an easier job with more pay. What do they pay to hand out fliers?” Jan asked. “I’ll better it.”

“I’m contracted for the day and pre-paid. If I break my contract it will be noted in the public records. All contracts are on the public net. Even one bad mark will hurt your future opportunities. I have a young nephew, however, who can do that for you. He’ll be able to get a car in town easier than here and you won’t have to stand at the curb there to be guaranteed a car. They will take care of the local fares in town before sending a car as far as the port empty so it may be a wait otherwise.”

“Done,” Jan agreed. “What would you consider a fair day wage for a guide?” Jan asked the other shills.

“A dollar Ceres,” one answered easily.

“Yeah, a day job doing anything is pretty much worth a dollar,” the other agreed. “If it involves really hard labor or special skills then expect to pay more.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jan said, so the fellow offering pulled out a phone and called his nephew. Jan didn’t say how good that sounded to him. Day work on Home paid a lot more. He’d take the bargain.

“I’ll take a flyer from each of you, but I’ll try your place first,” he told the Derf with the nephew. “How long for him to get here from the city?”

“About three-tenths. Call it twenty-five of your minutes.”

And there was another thing to learn so he wasn’t always converting in his head, Jan thought. He checked his spex to see if its clock was set for local time or Earth units.

Jan flipped the flier to the English side and read.

The Old Hotel offers pre-contact charm and architecture with modern updates in the heart of Derfhome. Human amenities are available in all rooms and our award-winning Golden Glow restaurant is illuminated by pre-contact carbon lamps. Full Derf and Human menus available as well as local and Earth liquors. Ask your server for adventures in native cuisine.

That sounded like just the ticket to Jan. Maybe they’d have a vacancy too.

* * *

“We had another small accident,” Born admitted as soon as Lee answered. Lee was getting better all the time at reading the full range of Derf expressions and Born was deeply flustered and embarrassed.

“Oh really,” She looked over her shoulder dramatically. “Yet the pictures are still on the wall and the vase with flowers isn’t smashed on the floor.”

“It was much more… localized this time. Musical made me call because I was the one in a rush and insisted on a quick run at full power. Here, I’ll take a picture with my pad and show you. We got rather more down thrust than anticipated.

Lee let off a long whistle that faded away. “I’m impressed. You got some serious punch out of that sucker.”

Born grimaced harder on punch.

“Don’t be upset. Nobody got hurt, did they?” Lee realized she should have asked that first. OK, Born should have said that first but he was rattled.

“No, although our neighbor down the hall came and looked in the door. I guess it was an impressive thump clear down in his lab. Thankfully, he checked to see we were both vertical before calling emergency services. I hate getting another report in our response file.”

“Yeah, that’s a reputation you don’t want,” Lee agreed. “I know you are hoping to start assembling a prototype drive tomorrow. When you get a break from the drive will you try to figure out what sort of thrust that generated?”

“Certainly. We’re rather curious ourselves. We figure from the way it tilted coming down that one of the frame rails failed first and then the other three followed quickly. Still, it takes a significant end thrust to get a fifty by fifty-millimeter angle channel to buckle. Is there anything else you want to be investigated when we get back to it?” He was just relieved it was still their project.

Lee thought about it. “When you design the next one, go for lightweight as much as possible. Maybe use aluminum or magnesium alloy for the housing. I’m going to need at least four of them, maybe more once you have the design tested without a crash or failure. The same size is probably going to be fine, but if we have the design, we can just adjust it at need a little bigger or smaller. They should have a side mounting plate to go on a boom and have a ballistic shield on the mounting side. Probably some sort of composite. It can be integral to the housing.”

“Ballistic shield? Is somebody going to be shooting at them?” Born asked.

“No, but if one of those rotors ever comes apart in a lightweight housing, I don’t want to be anywhere near it without some protection.”

“Ah, I understand now. I believe I can let those design changes by sending our current component plans to a couple of engineering firm and asking for a maximum mass reduction,” Born suggested. “We pay for individual jobs rather than engaging them in long term contracts. We’re also keeping design changes for the housing and rotors separated to different firms, so nobody sees the whole thing. Even then, they have no idea that we coat the rotors with anything after they fabricate them, much less with what. The fab shops that handle each are separate from the design people. Nobody should be able to deduce the whole from the part of it they work on or the changes.”

“I don’t see why that won’t work,” Lee agreed. “They shouldn’t have any clue about why any of the changes are needed.”

Born nodded, happy she agreed, and swallowed his next question, which was the very same – why did she need them?

“Call me when you start putting the drive assembly together. I’d like to see the progression before it’s all sealed up and ready to test,” Lee requested.

“Alright. If you come mid-day tomorrow, we should have everything laid out to see all the pieces and start assembling the bearings and fittings in the housing.”

“OK, I’ll bring a nice lunch for you guys,” Lee promised and disconnected.

Musical was standing to the side out of camera range but listening.

“Why would she want a bunch of thrusting mechanisms similar in size?” Born wondered. “I’d think she’d want a much bigger unit for a ship. It seems early to be thinking about actual production units instead of continuing to improve prototypes.”

“Maybe for distributed thrust on a habitat. I understand they are difficult to move. She’d want much smaller units to make some kind of a flying belt,” Musical said.

“More likely a flying suit.” Born could immediately picture how to make one. “But she would like something like that wouldn’t she?” he said grinning.

“Hold it in reserve, to suggest if her interest lags,” Musical suggested.

* * *

“I’ve had several calls,” Dakota said first thing. “There are some reporters here from Armstrong and even one from Marseilles who would like to know if you will entertain questions from the media?”

“Is security checking them out?” Heather asked.

“They already know they are real reporters. Not that reporters can’t be agents or moles. They will be sniffed, fluoroscoped, and inductively probed. Discreetly of course. They shouldn’t even know it is happening. Want to chance it?”

“I had no plans to hold a press conference. Today is court day. If they wish to put questions to me after court I’ll listen. I won’t alter my routine and give them priority over my own people seeking justice, but they can ask their questions after if they aren’t seeking a formal judgment. I may even answer them. How many is ‘some’?”

“Three reporters from Armstrong. One local and two Earthies. I’ll tell them exactly what you said,” Dakota promised.

The reporters were camped outside the door within ten minutes. That was sort of pointless because her court wouldn’t start for almost two hours. Heather had her oatmeal and was shown the security camera feed of the reporters by Dakota. They were interviewing each other in the corridor. When the first litigant showed up, they pounced on him for a quote. His response was never going to be published.

The reporters seemed interested as Dakota explained how the court worked and brought them to order for Heather to enter. They didn’t even react when Heather laid her pistol to hand on the table.

The first complaint was about a noise nuisance. It devolved into a technical discussion of inaudible frequencies and the transmission qualities of lunar rock. The reporter’s eyes glazed over and a couple of them started looking at their pads. They glanced up a few times to see if that was objectionable. When nobody yelled at them, they continued. When Heather said she’d heard enough and would rule they perked up and put their entertainment away.

“The only reason you are bothering your neighbor is for your convenience. You don’t need to position your machinery right in the corner of your property next to the elevator. It’s not a major expense to transport materials to a worksite nearer the center of your holding or even deeper. You should have done that in the first place, knowing his residence was already located close by. You will correct it now. If you need the use of a boring machine to do so quickly, we will donate the use of one for up to ten days at no cost. See my man, Mo, if you wish that. Be certain you cut it with proper offsets and dead ends to trap noise and for blast safety, with no shortcuts. You will also take such measures as are practical to minimize vibration and noise even after it is moved. It did not escape my notice you located your own residence at the extreme opposite corner of your property. Isolating mounts and absorbent wall coverings and flooring are durable and you will make their use a regular part of your planning. You should be much happier to do those things after your workshop is approximately equidistant from both your residential areas. Do you have any questions?

“No, ma’am, I’ll get started on that today.” The reporters looked at each other over the brevity of his response and lack of any objection at all. When he and his neighbor sat back down instead of leaving, the reporters sensed something was different from the way Heather and Dakota looked at them but they weren’t sure what. Most people were happy to leave after they received their judgment, but they were curious about the reporters who were visibly outsiders. Video of Heather’s court was always posted to the public net, but that would be later and with one camera only showing the person on the carpet speaking. The opposing party or Heather couldn’t be seen reacting. They could stay and see what happened in detail and the reactions off camera.

The next party was so interesting they didn’t go back to their pads in boredom. John Zimmerman was suing his ex for breach of contract. John was a large dark-haired man with a Five O’clock Shadow at ten in the morning. His ex, Kayla Orley, was a tall slender brunette with a braid rolled on top of her head. She must never need to wear a pressure suit.

“Step to the carpet and state your case,” Dakota instructed.

“My Lady,” John started.

Heather cut him off right there.

“You are not sworn to me. I’m not your Lady. Words have meanings.”

John nodded, rattled but thought how to rephrase it pretty quickly.

“Lady Anderson. Ms. Orley and I were married for a bit more than two years. She published a notice of our divorce on the public net six months ago. Since then, she has become an employee of Henderson’s Deli. I object she has unfairly used everything she learned from working with me in my catering business and diner to the detriment of my business. I ask she be told to seek some other sort of employment and not publish the recipes and methods unique to my business.”

“Do you have a copy of your marriage contract?” Heather asked.

“I didn’t bring a copy,” John admitted.

“I brought a hard copy of it,” Kayla said from the bench and waved a copy of it.

Heather blinked in dismay and didn’t look happy.

“How many pages is that? I can see it has some thickness from here.”

“A hundred-six pages and an index,” Kayla said.

“Let me take a moment,” Heather told them. “We have some visitors from Earth who likely do not understand what is happening here. I’ll make a brief explanation so they don’t return and make confused reports of things that aren’t the same as in their nations.

“My kingdom is not in the marriage business. We don’t license, tax, regulate, promote, or discourage marriage. Marriage is a civil contract which I will enforce. The religious and social aspects of it are your business without any official interest. If you wish to cohabit with no contract there is no legal censure, though I find it foolish. That said, a hundred and six pages is an unusually long contract for Central, even for commercial matters or employment agreements.

Heather returned her attention to the couple.

“Which one of you wrote this contract?”

John was still on the carpet so he answered. “I was the primary author but there were a couple of changes she initialed.”

“I don’t intend to read it. Though it is tempting to make you stand there while I do. So, answer me as to its content with the understanding I will have you banished from my domain if I find you have lied about this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did it address any aspect of your business as part of your marriage?”

“Yes, ma’am. It excluded any joint interest or change in our previous assets, including my business if the marriage ended.”

Kayla was nodding agreement so Heather didn’t quiz her.

“Did it address intellectual property or the value of training?”

“No, no it didn’t, but Kayla was my employee for over a year before we got married and those items are covered by a separate contract with non-compete agreements,” John said.

“I suppose you brought a copy of that?” Heather guessed.

“Yes, since it is relevant,” John said. He held up a document.

“Objection,” Kayla called out, rather loudly.

“We don’t have to follow Earth forms,” Heather said. “You were going to have a chance to speak, but go ahead if you wish to make a point. You aren’t interrupting him.”

“We can save some time here, by acknowledging that my employment contract was voided. I’m no longer his employee by his choice and without cause.”

“She continued working with me until the day before she posted a divorce,” John said.

Heather looked mildly perplexed. “How do I reconcile those two statements?” The question seemed aimed at either of them but Kayla answered.

“He stopped paying me when we married.”

The look Heather gave him made John take a step back. Then he made it even more obvious by looking down to see if he was still on the carpet.

“The marriage contract excluded previous assets,” Heather noted. “Did it address how or if things would become joint assets after your marriage?”

“It does not,” John said. “Indeed, her employment contract makes no specific mention of anything beyond her starting pay rate. No promises of increases or other compensation.”

“Did you grant her access to your personal or business accounts?” Heather asked.

“No, but that was a technical matter that could have been corrected by a visit to our bank and a stroke of the pen,” John said with a flourish of his hand.

“What a shame then,” Heather concluded, “that over two years you never found time to correct that oversight. As I said earlier, words have meaning. You cannot separate the idea of employment from compensation. Not unless you encompass the terms within the framework of slavery.

“Well, you can volunteer,” John insisted. “People work for charities that way.”

“What a novel theory,” Heather said, looking interested. “Did you discuss this and did Kayla agree to forgo compensation? You just both forgot to amend the previous written contract in a haze of love and goodwill? If you both agree to that, and you can show me what charitable works you have been funding with the business profits, I’ll allow it.”

Kayla saved John from responding by calling out, “I don’t agree.”

“Ah well, too bad. I think I have heard enough to rule, but if there is any major element missing this is your last chance to bring it up. I don’t feel I need to bring Kayla to the carpet. Was there any trouble with Kayla removing her possessions or taking things, not hers?”

Both of them shook their heads no.

“You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not but I’m curious what motivated you to leave after so long?” Heather asked.

“One day I looked at my accounts and realized I’d run through about a third of my savings,” Kayla said. “I could see the day coming when I wouldn’t have the means to leave.”

“Anything more from you, John?” Heather asked. He just shook his head no.

“We find this then,” Heather said in an oddly different tone of voice. “Kayla will be compensated at the rate she was paid as an employee for the period she was married to John. If other employees received wage increases during this period, she will receive the average of those increases for the entire period. The sum will be increased by three percent to reflect the time value of lost wages. John Zimmerman may not enter into any new contracts with others in this kingdom unless they have read the record of this case. They should know the sort of man with whom they are dealing. Do you both accept and acknowledge this ruling? Speak out, not just nod for the record.”

Since the alternative would be banishment, they both spoke up, but like the others, they stayed to see how entertaining the reporters would be.

“I don’t see any other petitioners,” Heather said in her normal voice. “I was given to understand you reporters wish to ask questions, not seek any judgment. If that is correct ask away. You don’t have to come stand on the carpet.”

The fellow from BBC was more aggressive than the others and stood quickly.

“Yes, I’d like to ask you about the bombing of North America and other issues, please.”

“Let’s be informal, but do you have a name, and are you with BBC or just a stringer?”

“I’m a full-time BBC employee but a USNA citizen, Wayne Howe, your… I’m not sure how to address you,” he admitted.

“Heather will do nicely,” Or Ms. Anderson if that seems too chummy for you. I’ll listen but don’t think I am compelled to answer you.”

“Heather, we have reports that the latest bombardment of North America escalated to decapitating the government. It’s the lead story just about everywhere on Earth today. Why was this done and what do you hope to accomplish?”

“The current war with North America is a matter of self-preservation. We can no longer risk our existence by allowing them access to the heavens. War has been a constant between us since before Central existed, dating from the rebellion of Home. It has been interspaced with false treaties and inconsistent promises. We are removing North America’s ability to access space from Low Earth Orbit and up. If that damages their economy and status among their peers that’s too bad. It’s the price of their faithlessness and arrogance.

“As to the bombing of the capital and destruction of their government, you’ll need to ask the why of those who did it. It wasn’t our action.”

“It’s been the uniform assumption that it was you,” Wayne insisted.

Heather looked amused. “I imagine that is a consensus of news organizations. I doubt you have polled a wider sample. Particularly the military. The hypersonic weapons were launched from submarines. You may not be aware, but Spacers have a conspicuous lack of armed submarines in our forces. Indeed, that sort of boost and glide hypersonic is not any design we have ever used.

“It would be an acceptable act of war to strike their leadership, though this was done very sloppily. There was no reason to do collateral harm to so many innocent civilians. Just the shock wave from the final approach of a hypersonic weapon can damage structures. Really though, what would be the point for us of doing this?”

Wayne looked confused. “In war, isn’t it always a plus to remove the best minds the other side has and those directing the war against you?”

“Best minds? Do you honestly think the best minds run most countries? I’d love to see more evidence of that. If one takes the contrary view, that the leadership consists of ineffective idiots, then it wouldn’t make any sense to remove them, would it?

“The truth is, nobody in the top tiers of North American politics wants peace with us or to keep the legacy treaties they made with us. They have rank upon rank of basically the same sorts of people ready to step into any vacancies and continue the same policies. Scum rises to the top. Unfortunately, Earth is a very big pot. We could skim the dross off for years and they’d never come near running out of defective personalities to replace them. You can’t be a decent person and rise anywhere near the top in North American politics.”

“My God,” Wayne said, “If I even tried to quote that for publication I could never go home. I’m not going to simply erase that. I’m going to trash the memory card.”

Heather pointed a thumb and finger gun at him and dropped the hammer. “Yes, they’d shoot the messenger,” she said. It seemed to amuse her. It horrified him.

“Is there any way to prove this?” Wayne asked. He was visibly rattled.

“Prove a negative? We’ve already both agreed it would have been a legitimate target for us. Why would we go to any great effort to disclaim it? I have no illusions it would suddenly reverse public opinion and make the masses love us. They will believe whatever they are told to believe.”

“You don’t care what people think of you?” Wayne asked.

“Oh, I certainly do,” Heather said. “Family and friends. My peers and subjects even. As I said, the greater mass of people will believe what they are told to believe. That’s out of my control. The people who direct their beliefs have a depth of technical ability to manage public opinion. It is a very mature science being wielded by entrenched agencies that I can’t hope to counter. But don’t forget, I don’t have to manage my population to get elected. I don’t have to put on a show for anybody.

“Surely, somebody else has a different question? Heather asked.

The reporter from Marseilles visibly gathered her courage. She just spoke without standing since nobody was trying to talk over her.

“Louise Adnet, ma’am. I’m local but a stringer for BFM. There was a huge explosion in a wilderness area in Idaho,” she said. “It was big enough to register as a minor earthquake and broke windows over the horizon. There were reports of reentry vehicles crossing the sky. Was that yours or was that somebody else too?” She sneered a little at the end jab but Heather ignored it.

“That was us,” Heather readily admitted. “We destroyed the runways and other facilities at a secret base. It was relocated there some time ago and expanded because the Texans consolidated their hold on New Mexico and Arizona where a similar facility was located. Our initial strike wasn’t sufficient to remove it as a space asset. It turned out they had vertical launch capabilities we didn’t know about. We made sure the second time that it’s out of business for good.”

“If you knew it was there it wasn’t much of a secret, was it?” Louise asked.

“It’s an official secret,” Heather said. “That’s different than a real secret. You can hardly construct runways and hangars with all the eyes in the sky and other countries not know. It just means your own citizens and organizations have to pretend it doesn’t exist. Going back to my conversation with Mr. Howe, it doesn’t seem the action of the brightest and best. More like delusional or schizophrenic. People in other countries can even look at commercial satellite pictures of the base but USNA citizens get a blurred-out spot on the map. They don’t even try to substitute fake wilderness. How much extra effort could that be? Don’t expect me to make sense of it for you. I think it’s ridiculous for adult people to play peek-a-boo with each other, like you’d do with a toddler.” She demonstrated the kiddie game with her hands. “I suppose the crater we put there will be secret and blurred out too.”

Louise smiled a brittle little smile and had no follow-up.

“Do you others have a question too?” Heather invited.

Both of them emphatically shook their heads no. Interviewing Heather was a horror of unusable quotes and disturbing heresy that could only spell trouble for them.

“Very well, we’re done then,” Heather said. “Please do leave promptly when you have your things gathered so Dakota can lock up. The cafeteria is not far away and there is signage to find it if you want to chat and compare notes with each other.”

* * *

Jan told his guide, Xerxes, to wait in the car and not release it back to the system until he determined if he was going to eat at the hotel and if they had a room for him. He retained his small carryall, however. He wasn’t that confident of his guide yet.

They had a doorman which was a nice touch. He wondered if that was a Derf custom or if they added it from the Human hospitality industry? The fellow held the door and nodded hello at him. That was probably another Human adaptation. He seemed more greeter than security, though a ton and a half of taloned carnivore might serve as both.

There was a traditional check-in desk that would have been right at home in a 1930’s black and white flat movie, except the top was armpit high to him. It was elbow high to his lower arms for the Derf clerk busy sorting papers with his back to the entry. Jan was in no hurry standing still, looking everything over. There was no bell on the counter as he’d expect in the period Earth movie. A monitor behind the clerk announced the daily specials for the restaurant and a ten percent discount for guests.

The clerk turned and jerked all over in surprise. It was too abrupt to be faked and his fur stood out around his ears and neck in what had to be a genuine reaction.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jan apologized.

“Your pardon too,” the clerk stammered. “I’ve never met a Human I couldn’t hear as soon as they stepped inside the door. Most of them fairly stomp and even breath loud.”

“I’ve had people suggest I should wear bells,” Jan admitted. “Do you have a vacancy for at least one night? I’m not particular about amenities, just a place to sleep since I intend to be out and about exploring the city.”

“I have a single on the second floor looking west with a little balcony,” the fellow offered. “It’s ten dollars Ceres a night with a Derf sleeping pad and a Human pillow. If you will need it longer, renewing it before local noon the next day is greatly appreciated. There are the usual linens and sheets and blankets Humans expect. A full Human bed is a dollar a night.”

“The pad will be fine I’m sure. I’m going to have dinner at your restaurant and then I’ll go up and inspect the room,” Jan said. “Do I prepay?”

“Only if you wish. If you wait until checkout your tab at the restaurant and bar will be added and any service you request from the concierge. Do you need a guide service?”

“No thanks, I have a man in the car holding it. I wanted to make sure I had a room before I released it.” It amused Jan everybody seemed to have a guide readily available.

“I have a room,” he told his waiting guide. “If you want to work a little longer and have dinner with me, I’d welcome the chance to chat about local customs and things to do. If not, you can come back in the morning and we’ll start fresh on a new day.”

“I’d be happy to have dinner and talk if you are buying. The Old Hotel is a bit expensive for me. But it would certainly be a treat. I’d enjoy telling friends I’ve eaten there.”

“Let’s see if this works,” Jan said. He reached in with his Solar bankcard and swiped it by the car’s pay port. It turned green and displayed a Thank You.

“All the important elements of civilization,” Jan quipped.

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